#and reread/rewatch them sometimes… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cxvii666 · 2 months ago

Text

“nokia”

college au! denki kaminari + hanta sero x reader

“where's the function?" “—where the fuck the function?” “send the addy—” “where the fuck the function???”

wc: 3.7k

part of the hoe cakes - EP

...starting track

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

.....

"guess who just got that big cashmoneyyyyy!!!"

denki kaminari, to much surprise of those who don't know him so well, is an early riser.

that's not to say that the blonde's sleep schedule isn't completely out of wack, because it is. late nights that could barely be counted as nights, more like extremely early mornings, are not infrequent to him. most days he's up till 2am on his playstation, or playing minecraft on his laptop, or rewatching the same three movies.

but he's always up before 7am.

fuelled by nictotine, caffeine, (sometimes ketamine), and sheer willpower.

he enjoys getting up with the sun, the quiet of the house at dawn.

it's peaceful in a way nothing else is. he gets to attempt at quieting his mind. sometimes he's downstairs before bakugou goes on his morning run, so he makes the guy his favourite disgustingly green multivitamin shakes, and in return receives quiet instruction, general life advice, and insightful words of wisdom from the other blonde. because they are both calm in a way they're normally not.

hanta sero, on the other hand, is a master of the lay in. you won't see him before 2pm on a regular day, he'll be upstairs in his room, snoozing, snoring, drooling into his pillow, until either his stomach wakes him up and he leaves his dungeon of his own accord, in search of food or an energy drink, or, someone gets sent up to check on him, to make sure he's not dead or something like that.

on this particular morning, hanta had stumbled downstairs just after midday, slightly buzzing because he had finally bought the pair of sneakers he'd been eyeing up for the last week.

he flops onto the couch, a gangly pile of long limbs and messy brown hair, knocking denki on the leg accidentally-on-purpose. denki looks up briefly, over the top of his book, from where he's resting in the corner of the couch and acknowledges his friend with a nod.

"'bit early for you, ain't it," the blonde mumbles, the frame of his reading glasses slipping slightly as he turns the page.

"shaddup." is all he receives from hanta in return, who then takes a swig of his redbull like he's tryna give himself wings.

"dude, did you hear what i just said?" hanta yawns out, lazily kicking his feet up to rest on the blonde's shin, "the bag just got dropped in my bank account."

"what, you finally got that uber eats refund?" denki snorts, eyes still focused on the printed words on the page, he has to finish this chapter now, else he won't pick the book back up for another two weeks.

"don't be funny," hanta laments, thinking of the food that never got delivered, the money that was never returned, "and fuck uber, fuck the government." denki rolls his eyes at the rant he's already heard, "what do they get out of torturing underpaid students, huh? no loyalty in this game."

"what game?" denki replies, nearly at the end of the page.

"the game of life," he drawls back dryly. "you finish that chapter yet? i wanna go for a smoke."

"almost, the mc is pissing me off though, i don't know if i can finish this."

"what's the book?"

"pride and prejudice."

hanta whistles low and long, head tilted as he picks his phone back up to open depop. "damn," he mutters, thumb pausing over a blurry jpeg of a hoodie that definitely doesn’t justify the £85 price tag, "sorry, mister classic literature."

denki doesn't even glance up. he just hums, flipping another page with the careful indifference of someone pretending they’re not rereading the same paragraph for the third time.

they fall into silence — not heavy, just easy — filled only by the soft tap-tap-tap of hanta’s screen and the occasional creak of the old couch when one of them shifts. sunlight slants through the living room blinds, catching on dust motes and the curl of denki’s blonde hair as he leans deeper into the cushions, glasses slipping slightly down his nose.

hanta’s sprawled out beside him, legs stretched halfway off the couch, socked feet resting dangerously close to denki’s side. he’s locked in, zoned out, scrolling through overpriced streetwear resellers hawking one-of-one drops and faded zip-ups from some underground german brand he can’t even pronounce.

the quiet’s broken by the sharp snap of a book closing.

“you got funds for said smoke?” denki asks, voice dry, already reaching for his phone.

“i haven’t picked up yet,” hanta replies without looking up.

“that’s not what i asked.”

“you’re so annoying.”

“i was gonna text shinsou. he came back yesterday, i’m sure he’s got at least an eighth on him.”

hanta stretches, joints popping. “then yeah. tell him i’ll bank transfer.”

denki raises an eyebrow. “so you do have smoke money.”

hanta tosses his phone up, catches it against his chest. “what did i say earlier? the bag got dropped.”

a beat.

denki glances at his phone, brows lifting. “oh shit. it’s the 30th.”

“there he is,” hanta grins, already anticipating it. “and you know what that means—”

“we got paiddddd” denki sing-songs, jumping up just enough to do a half-assed shoulder shimmy.

hanta kills the moment immediately, as he always does, with a well-timed scoff and a raised brow. “we? bro, who’s this we you speak of?”

denki freezes mid-dance, blinking. “we… like, you and me?” he gestures between them helplessly. “that’s, like, basic grammar, i fear.”

“i mean,” hanta says, voice climbing mock-dramatically, “there is no ‘we’, okay? you don’t have to spend all your free time in that stupid stockroom. ‘sero can you come in today?’ ‘sero we need a full size range of xyz’ ‘sero can you take the bins out?’ ‘sero can you close the store tonight and then open the next morning’—NO. fuck that.”

denki snorts, trying and failing to hide the smirk pulling at his mouth.

hanta sees it and narrows his eyes. “unemployed bastard. shut the fuck up.”

“okay, okay, relax, bruh,” denki says, holding up both hands. “you know what?”

“…what?”

“we should go out tonight.”

“are you kidding? i thought we were locking in. don’t you have, like, five assignments due next—”

“no thoughts. only vibes.”

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

by 9pm they’re crammed around a too-small, sticky round table in a bar that smells like old wood and spilled citrus. the lighting’s low and uneven, all weird amber glows and exposed wires, and the music is some indie playlist that’s trying a little too hard to be ironic. something with a harmonica plays over the speakers, no one knows the words, but everyone knows the vibe: overpriced, under-cleaned, maybe cool in a way that’s embarrassing if you think about it too long.

denki’s halfway into his second tequila soda, slouched back against the booth with his knees knocking into hanta’s. his eyes are glassy, hair a little damp at the temples, grinning like someone just told him the funniest joke in the world and he’s still recovering.

hanta’s beside him, obviously crossfaded. talking too loud, gesturing too big with a joint in his hand, cheeks flushed pink from a cocktail that had way more liquor than mixer. he’s half on the seat and half off, manspreading shamelessly and knocking into denki every time he tries to make a point.

kiri’s on denki’s other side, balanced on a chair that definitely wasn’t made for his size, nursing a beer that’s already gone warm, launching into some dramatic story about how he “definitely tore something” at the gym last week.

“nah dude, i swear, i was just squatting and something snapped—”

“your common sense,” bakugou mutters from across the table, not looking up from the glass of whiskey he’s been babysitting for the past twenty minutes.

“fuck off, man,” kirishima laughs, clapping him hard on the shoulder, “just ‘cause i’m built different—”

“built stupid,” bakugou corrects, finally glancing up, eyes narrowed like he’s considering whether the redhead needs to be thrown out the window or just insulted more thoroughly.

shinsou’s wedged between bakugou and the wall, hoodie hood up, sipping something dark and bitter with the look of a man who’s about to start dissociating. he hasn't said much since they sat down, just making faces into his glass every time someone raises their voice — which is often.

denki points across the table suddenly, finger wobbling as he focuses on bakugou. “i’m just saying,” he slurs, “you’re, like, objectively the hottest out of all of us, and that’s so unfair because you’re also mean and rich.”

bakugou doesn’t even blink. just flips him off slowly, deliberately, like he’s done it so many times it’s lost all meaning.

“i think i’m the hottest,” hanta says, almost spilling his drink on his lap. “in a, like, mysterious way. like… the kinda hot that sneaks up on you.”

“you’re hot in a raccoon-at-3am kinda way,” shinsou mutters into his drink without missing a beat.

hanta pauses. considers. “thank you?”

kiri claps him on the back like he just won a prize. “you’ve got that haunted twink energy. it works for you.”

hanta makes a face like he’s been personally victimised. “okay wow, homophobic and accurate. you guys are on thin fuckin ice.”

they all laugh — loud and messy — drawing a few annoyed looks from the couple at the next table over. denki knocks his knee against hanta’s and hiccups once, eyes fluttering closed like the room’s starting to spin just slightly.

then he suddenly lurches forward, forehead thunking onto the sticky wood of the table as he groans, “can we go somewhere else? shinsou, your internship aged you like milk. i feel like we’re thirty-five. i wanna move. i wanna dance. i want fun.”

“then go,” shinsou says, without even lifting his head.

denki doesn’t even hesitate. he’s already got his phone out, dialing with shaking hands and tequila optimism. he holds the phone to his ear like it owes him money.

“this is gonna end badly,” hanta whispers to kirishima, grinning wide.

“denki, babe, what’s up?” mina answers on the second ring, her voice loud with bass and laughter and probably a little champagne.

“where are you? save me. i’m surrounded by clinically depressed men and i need a serotonin shot.”

“club downtown with the girls. music’s fire. drinks are pink. get your ass here.”

“we’re on our way.”

he hangs up like he just solved a crime and slaps his palm down on the table. “mina’s at the club. we’re going. sero, get up.”

“say less,” hanta says, already trying to climb over the bench with the grace of a baby giraffe.

“absolutely not,” bakugou growls, right as kiri fist-pumps with a too-loud, “hell yeah!”

shinsou sighs like he’s dying, then tips the rest of his drink back like it might bring him peace.

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

they leave the bar like a storm — noisy, uncoordinated, half-drunk and dramatic. denki’s leading the charge, coat flapping behind him like a cape as he marches toward the curb, phone in hand and eyes bright with mission.

“someone call a ride,” shinsou mutters, already regretting this.

“on it,” hanta announces, immediately opening instagram instead of uber. “wait, no, shit.”

“i’ll do it,” bakugou growls, snatching the phone out of hanta’s hand. “you idiots’ll end up the other side of the fuckin' country.”

“wow,” hanta says, mock-offended, “it’s giving control issues.”

“it’s giving i don’t want to die in a ditch tonight,” bakugou snaps.

kiri’s standing too close to the street, waving his arms. “is this legal if i flag one down like a taxi—”

“it’s a rideshare, bro!” denki yells, exasperated. “you don’t just... wave at random cars!”

“what if it’s the vibe though?”

the car arrives miraculously only five minutes later, a silver prius that has seen better days. they pile in like a jenga tower mid-collapse — kirishima practically sitting on shinsou, hanta in the middle seat with both elbows out like he owns the place, denki leaning his whole body across the row to yell something incoherent out the window. bakugou slams the door shut with unnecessary force and glares at the driver like sorry in advance.

the entire ride is chaos.

denki insists on playing music and ends up blasting a playlist called “feral thot energy.” hanta starts freestyle rapping over it, badly. kiri tries to harmonize. shinsou has his head against the window with the thousand-yard stare of a man who has made several mistakes in life.

“this is the kind of night where legends are born,” denki declares, arm draped around hanta’s shoulder like a drunk prom date.

“it’s the kind of night where someone gets kicked out of a club,” shinsou mutters.

“same difference.”

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

the club hits them like a wave — sound and sweat and heat and light. music thrums through the floor, vibrating up through their shoes, a pulsing beat that makes your ribs buzz. everything’s cast in blue and purple and gold strobe. bodies packed tight, the air thick with perfume, alcohol, and cheap fog machine mist.

mina spots them first — she’s glowing, standing on the low couch in a VIP booth like it’s a stage, waving her drink and grinning like she owns the place. she yells something they can’t hear and beckons them over.

they shove their way through the crowd, hands on shoulders, stumbling into strangers. hanta gets distracted by a girl in platform boots and nearly crashes into a server. kiri’s already hyping himself up, bouncing to the beat, dragging bakugou by the wrist with zero shame.

shinsou disappears into the dark like a shadow, muttering something about getting a drink and being “less near all of you.”

denki’s still laughing when he sees you.

his brain short-circuits. just flatlines for a second.

you’re across the room, leaning against the bar with a drink in hand, face lit up in electric violet from the LED strip beneath the counter. you’re laughing — at what, he doesn’t know — and you look good. criminally good. all done up and shining like you were dipped in starlight and eyeliner.

denki halts mid-step, grabbing hanta’s arm like it’s the only thing anchoring him to earth.

"holy shit."

hanta blinks, following his gaze. he spots you instantly. his entire vibe shifts in half a second.

denki’s shoulders stiffen. hanta’s grin tilts, almost smug.

they don’t say a word — but the battle lines are drawn.

denki smooths his shirt down and straightens up, already plotting, because tonight just got way more interesting.

"bro," the brown eyed boy drawls, his normally nonchalant tone cracking, "you’re joking."

"i’m not. she’s here. she’s right fucking there."

they both just stand there for a beat, frozen in place like idiots in a teen movie.

"we knew this might happen," hanta says, knocking back a too-big sip of his drink like it’ll help. "she’s friends with mina. and mina lives here. and we are, unfortunately, also here."

denki groans, scrubbing a hand down his face. "okay but what do we do?"

"we don’t panic," hanta says, clearly starting to panic. "you like her. i like her. classic romcom setup. we wingman each other. bros helping bros."

"that never works."

"you’re right. but i’m already a teensy bit faded, so my judgment is impaired. let’s do it anyway."

they fist bump like absolute morons. it’s unspoken, the truce. the agreement. the absolute guaranteed disaster they’re about to unleash on themselves.

“denki,” hanta hisses suddenly as they're making their way over to the bar, grabbing his friend by the shoulder like he’s about to keep him from walking into traffic. “don’t do the eyebrow thing. it makes you look insane.”

denki freezes mid-step, brow raised just slightly, lips twitching in what was clearly meant to be a smolder but lands somewhere between drunken anime villain and confused raccoon. his bleached hair is slightly damp from the humidity of the club, strands clinging to his forehead, cheeks already pink with tequila and ego.

“what eyebrow thing?” he says innocently, blinking way too much.

“that thing where you raise one and try to smolder. you look like a drunk ferret.”

denki looks genuinely offended. “you’re so full of shit.”

“don’t fight me on this right now,” hanta says, standing tall, long limbs graceful in that lazy way only he can pull off — baggy jeans slung low, silver chain flashing under the neon. “focus. you’re acting like this is a final boss level. relax.”

before denki can retaliate, you spot them.

your grin is immediate — wide, familiar, a little sharp at the edges like you already know something they don’t. you’re leaning against the bar like you own the place, glass in hand, lips glossy, eyes flicking between the two of them like you’re trying to decide who to bully first.

“well, well, well,” you say, raising your drink. “look who crawled out of the sad boy table.”

“we got tired of being emotionally repressed,” denki replies with a grin, already sliding closer. his chain catches the light, and there’s a faint glitter on his cheek like he walked through a cloud of mina’s body spray.

“also the drinks here are pink. i couldn’t resist.”

“pink drinks do hit different,” you concede, tipping your glass to him.

hanta leans in on the other side of you, effortlessly cool, one elbow braced on the bar like he’s done this a hundred times before — because he has. he flashes a lazy smile. “so who’s your friend?”

you glance sideways, and the guy you’d been chatting with is already edging away like a guy smart enough to take a hint. “just someone mina introduced. he’s chill. not as entertaining as you two, apparently.”

they both beam at that — practically glowing.

and for a while, it’s good.

you talk, or more accurately, yell over the pounding bass. denki shoves a round of lemon drop shots into everyone’s hands like he’s on a mission from god. hanta makes a joke about astrology that makes you snort vodka soda through your nose. denki doubles over laughing and nearly chokes on a lime wedge.

you steal one of his fries when a plate of mystery bar food appears out of nowhere, and he acts like you’ve committed a felony. hanta dramatically narrates a fake backstory for the guy passed out in the booth across the room. it’s chaotic and stupid and loud and fun.

until it stops being that.

it’s little things, at first. denki cuts hanta off halfway through a story, correcting him on some inconsequential detail. hanta retaliates by one-upping him on a joke you weren’t really listening to. denki starts leaning a little too close to you. hanta starts rolling his eyes a little too obviously.

you feel it shift — the air getting tighter.

“you always do this,” hanta mutters later, after denki slides into the booth beside you uninvited, legs brushing yours casually like it’s nothing. “you get weird.”

“i’m not weird,” denki snaps, voice rising just enough to make it obvious that he is.

“you’re doing the thing.”

“what thing?”

“the thing where you pretend to wingman but then you cockblock.”

“you literally just told her i cried during Up.”

“because you did!” hanta says, throwing his arms up. “and it was sweet!”

“it was manipulative.”

“you need therapy.”

you stare at both of them, blinking in mild alarm. “are you guys okay?”

“we’re fine,” they say in unison. then glare at each other.

a beat passes. the silence is immediate and awkward.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you announce, already sliding out of the booth. it’s the emotional equivalent of pulling the fire alarm.

as soon as you’re gone, the mood collapses in on itself like a dying star.

“we’re idiots,” hanta says, rubbing his hand over his face.

“massive idiots,” denki agrees, eyes on the condensation sliding down his glass.

“she probably thinks we’re in love with each other.”

“we are. just not the sexy kind.”

they sit with that. the weight of it. the creeping shame of being two grown men emotionally combusting over a single girl in a bar with glittery walls and a sticky floor.

“you wanna go home?”

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

they stumble into hanta’s room just past midnight, extremely early by their standards, shoes half-kicked off in the doorway, smelling like tequila, sweat, weed, and mutual defeat. the walls glow dimly with the soft wash of purple LEDs, casting shadows over the usual mess — a hoodie draped on the desk chair, empty cans on the windowsill, a pair of skate shoes abandoned under the bed.

denki drops face-first onto the mattress with a dramatic groan. “we blew it.”

“royally,” hanta agrees, toeing off his sneakers and collapsing beside him. “like, worse than the Up thing.”

“i’m never gonna hear the end of the Up thing.”

“you cried so hard," hanta giggles out into the silence.

“don’t start again,” denki mumbles into the blanket. “we’re mourning.”

“mourning what? the shreds of our dignity?”

“that. and the fact that we probably scared her off forever.”

hanta snorts softly. “you think she’ll still come over saturday?”

“she said she would.” denki flips onto his back and stares at the ceiling like it has answers. “you invited her, remember? you were all—come hang, it’ll be chill, we’ll do frozen margaritas, good weed and bad movies.”

“yeah, and you added i’ll make nachos and accidentally seduce you with my helpless little golden retriever charm.”

“it’s not a bit. it’s my burden.”

they lapse into silence again, heads lolling toward each other on the bed, limbs splayed out like they’ve just returned from war.

“you think she’s into you?” hanta asks eventually, voice low, a little too casual to be real.

denki’s quiet for a beat. “i dunno. maybe?”

another pause.

“you?”

hanta lets out a long breath. “maybe.”

they don’t look at each other. they don’t need to. it’s not the first time they’ve liked the same person — just the first time it might actually matter.

“we suck,” denki says again, softer this time.

“at least we suck together.”

"that's so gay."

they fall asleep like that — fully clothed, limbs tangled, laughter still clinging to their skin like the glitter they’ll find in the morning.

...end of playback

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

prev track ▷ 93 'til infinity

next track ▷ black beatles

#sero hanta x black reader #denki kaminari x reader #sero hanta x reader #my hero academia #sero nation #mha #sero hanta #bnha #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x black reader #denki x reader #hanta sero x reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia

212 notes · View notes

borkunlimited · 3 months ago

Text

Siúil a Rúin

As Take Your Time, Miss Deer, finally comes to an end, I want to reach out to everyone with a note, a thank you for being here in this two month long journey of weekly updates.

I still remember how I decided to write this fic out of a whim, mostly for myself because I want to sharpen my skills as a writer. What started as a whim turn to little snippets, then an outline, and finally, a challenge where I told myself I will complete this fic in a span of 10 chapters.

Honestly, I did not intend to post this at all here in Tumblr, but my beta reader and a friend convinced me otherwise and I am glad I listened to them or else I wouldn't have met each of you today.

This fic was incredibly challenging to write but mostly because I wouldn't deny that numbers still bother me though I still stick to my belief that these shouldn't define my worth as a writer.

One challenge I encounter is actually creating Miss Deer. Sweet characters seemed easy to write when you see them surface level but sweet characters who are layered are more difficult. I want her to be sweet and kind but not the type that she is dependent on other people to live, rather, has her own set of strengths.

I mentioned this several times to my moot (Hi @xiiiaomaiii!) how FLs from Studio Ghibli greatly influenced me and rewatching them all in one go gave me a better idea on how to write her character and how Sylus will play in the story.

I don't want Miss Deer to be completely dependent on him and I want Sylus to be like how every ML is in Studio Ghibli: Supportive and kind.

(Did it work? I like to think I managed to flesh out her character well based on everyone's feedback.)

There are multiple challenges that I have encounter along the way. My worry on ensuring that Sylus, the twins, and even the characters I have isekai'd in this fic (ex. Louis from Beastars) are not OOC. My realization that having an outline is completely different from fleshing it out and there are times I close the doc then call it a day.

Sometimes, I even erase lines of paragraphs. (Bork, do you still have them? No, they are in the abyss now, forever gone haha)

Anyways, I don't want to keep this long! These are just musings, mostly for my future self to read when she looks back.

What's next?

I will focus on drawing art for this fic during my break.

Pick-up what I left off in the side story related to this fic which is about Luke, Kieran, and the sheep hybrid occasionally mentioned.

(This side story is more focused on the themes of coming of age, the twins and the sheep MC navigating in their relationship. I mostly draw inspiration from Skip and Loafer and Horimiya for this. Also, the amount of Luke & Kieran fics is low and I, an upstanding citizen, must do my part.)

Might write short stories and drabbles between Sylus and Miss Deer as well.

Will I write another longfic?

Yes, I already have something in the works but I need to read more about this LI (Who is the LI? Hehe, you'll see), read more books, watch more films in line with the idea I have in mind.

When will you see this longfic?

One day when you wake up (Hopefully on a warm, sunny day), you'll just see the first chapter and you and I will be in another ride where I publish weekly (I pray nothing gets in the way of my life.)

I am happy this story reached you and when you reread it, I hope my intent of making it a cozy story will make you feel better, recharge you, and help you get ready to face what is ahead.

Thank you everyone!

AO3: Take Your Time, Miss Deer: 🦌🐉 Luke & Kieran's Bakery Attack(s): 🐺🐺🐑

Tumblr: Take Your Time, Miss Deer:🦌🐉 Luke & Kieran's Bakery Attack(s):🐺🐺🐑

#love and deepspace #lads #love and deepspace sylus #lads hybrid au #lads sylus #hybrid au #sylus x reader #sylus x you #take your time miss deer

220 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 2 months ago

Note

maybe this could help people addicted to cai: in addition of deleting all those apps, you need to "train" yourself to be patient again and to fight that need for instant gratification if you want to get rid of the addiction for good. Find yourself a book or a TV show and space out the chapters/episodes as much as you can (a week apart is a good standard), and in between them, relearn to enjoy the wait. Relearn to enjoy the anticipation. Theorize in your head, on paper and/or with friends (internet friends count!!) about what could happen next. Take some time after each chapter/episode to understand what just happened, and why. reread/rewatch for missed details and clues. Analyse the craft of the author or the visuals of the productions where applicable.

Enjoy things slowly. Learn value in things that are not 100% tailored to your taste, even, disagree with artistic choices and reflect on why that is! cai is addictive because it gives you what you want when you want it. reverse engineer the whole thing to break free.

Learn to love the crawl!!

Sometimes it's worth it to wait, and even if it isn't worth it at least you're getting your patience back

#ghoul speaks #anti-ai

103 notes · View notes

shapelytimber · 7 months ago

Text

Wanted to paint some of my favorite characters, nothing more nothing less

[COMMISSIONS]

Way too much yapping like an embarrassing amount, the individual portraits and the template I used below vvv

I shouldn't be allowed to talk about my favorite characters- especially to people who (presumably) don't know them xjfkdk apart from the very popular ones ofc

ILLYA KURYAKIN (The man from U.N.C.L.E)

gay ass little Russian spy I love him he is so *dramatic* and a huge nerd and a Beatles fan and into fashion design- perfect pocket size blorbo ;w; also seeing a Russian character being given a positive leading role in an American tvshow from the 60s ?? Yes he lives in New York and works for UNCLE America.... But he is still a communist ?? Incredible ! Also I really like the fact he isn't given the cliché personality traits often given to Russian characters i e anger issues drinks a lot violent ect (looking at you shitty(imo) modern remake... What did you do to my little guy ;;). In a close contest with Spock for the "gayest man from tvshow" of the 60s..... And in my heart he is winning djdkd for me the gay subtext of muncle hits so much more because it's not a scifi show- it's closer to home, Napoleon and Illya were *like that* in the present day of the 60s, they were both human, and no alien fuckery made them go to the village more than once or play house in the suburbs or get attached ass up to get pegged on a regular basis... Truly a show that feels written by an old queen and a guy with the biggest fem dom fetish jkvjjkb (don't get me wrong tho I adore star trek tos and spirk too <3)

KUROO HAZAMA and PINOKO (Black Jack)

sometimes I rewatch some of the oavs from the 90s when I'm sad :) I had a huge phase a couple years back when I read nearly all the manga (should really finish it... Or reread the whole thing frankly), watched *all* the shows (bar young black jack, hated that shit) and idk I just love this venal bitch so much- him and his daughter and his conflicted feelings for his tboy ex that he still loves kfkfkf btw I'm dying for a modern take on this like please please please I'd love to see Kei Kisaragi's story rewritten a bit (trans character in the 70s sure was progressive but oh boy-), because him and black jack's relationship makes me so *weak*.... And maybe see him a bit more than in one story- anyway ! When it comes to his daughter Pinoko, it's very hit or miss- when the writers lean on the cute father adoptive daughter relationship it's great, when they lean more on the whole "she has a crush on him" (very much like a child in most case, and he *never* reciprocate thank god) and bring up the fact she is technically 18 a lot (she was an evil tumor trapped in her sister before he created a body for her- black jack shit dw), and she gets jealous of other women.... Well it's terrible and I'm uncomfy :(

EVA KANT (Diabolik)

Look.... You just can't show me danger diabolik 1968 and not expect me to become insane djdkdkdk she is so cool ;; !!! Her and her devious eel of a man (here as a panther, because even tho I haven't read the comic yet, I'm taking an educated guess that all the panther imagery is here to represent him, the lethal twunk always in the all black gimp suit... And if it's not then fuck my entire life ig fjfkkd), the cuntiest het couple you've ever seen, such freaks I love them ! Partners in crime that will blow up the tax offices of the whole country if you try to put a bounty on them <3 they are in the guilty faves category only because I'm this invested in these characters after 1 (one) movie fkfkf watched the first two remakes and was hmmm let's say underwhelmed, could have been worse but going after the 60s one ie peak cinema was hard... I went in fully invested in these heterosexuals and they still fucked up their romance and relationship ;; (don't spoil me the third one btw haven't seen it yet ! I know it's the yaoi one- which doesn't give me much hope for Eva tbh...) I'll soon start reading the comics tho ! Managed to find all twelve volumes of "Il grande Diabolik" in french for pretty cheap so I'm excited for that :D (might scan them and upload them online because omg I tried finding scans in *any* language and only found a dubious website that sold digital copies for 7€ a volume ??? What is this)

UTA (The Void / Тургор / Turgor / Tension)

Apathy girlyyyyy she just like me for real for real nfkfk what absolutely charmed me about her is yes her design, but more importantly her chamber's design (if you've never played the void, a sister's chamber is a space that represent her. You get a sense of who she is by exploring her chamber before finding her and talking to her soul it's great). The lonely island out at sea, her laying down on a suspended steel boat in a grotto, looking passively at the moon by a crack on the ceiling.... And the moon is looking back. Incredible ! I love this game so much

KIM KITSURAGI (Disco Elysium)

Do I really have to explain this one ? When I played the game with quiji I remember I kept saying "when Kim talks, we *listen*" djkdk we did get a good grade in Kim Kitsuragi and got him to dance in the church <3 this fucking centrist cop wormed it's way into my heart and many others because of course he did. The only Kim K in my eyes. Also funny anecdote : before I played Disco Elysium, I had one concept art masterclass where a kinda famous concept artist came to give advice, make us really stressed then give us a shitty grade.... And when I tell you this man looked so much like Kim ??? Same haircut, glasses, face with a scar *exactly* where Kim's portrait has a stark shadow on his cheek and he was dressed in an orange top- truly uncanny. Anyway, Kim is so fucking cool how does he do it

DARK VADOR (La guerre des étoiles)

*sight* not surprising if you know me... and to be clear when I say Vader I don't mean Anakin Skywalker, post barbecue only zouz here. I refuse to yap about this man djdkdk I already do that way to much in ao3 comment sections

And here is the template I used ! Don't know who made it tho sorry...

PS : all these where made in 2-3 hours each :D wanted to challenge myself by painting quickly, and I mostly (looking at the Eva Kant one that gave me trouble) succeeded !

337 notes · View notes

the---hermit · 1 year ago

Text

27|04|2024

Today I decided I didn't want to set an alarm and I am happy I did that, I got a bit more sleep but I still managed to be productive. In the morning I got done more than I had planned, which makes me very happy. I then went to my brother's for lunch and to spend the afternoon together rewatching the hobbit movies. We watched a movie and a half and we'll finish sometime next week. I am really happy about the fact that lately we have been having these movie afternoons because ever since he moved out we have not been spending a lot of time together and I really missed it. I hope we can make this a sort of an habit to spend more time together like we used to when he was still living here.

today's productivity:

read first thing in the morning

Irish review on duolingo

read and annotated the Merchant Of Venice (I finished the third act so next week I will be able to finish my first reread and move on to other tasks like finding articles to help writing my paper)

started looking for a couple of articles for my paper (and I have yet to find out if I can access them with my uni credentials but that is a next week task)

did a quick monthly set up in my bullet journal to write down all the things I have to do next month (I have to get back into using my bullet journal since I have not been using it for a few months now, and I haven't find the perfect system for this period of my life yet)

📖: Miti E Leggende Dei Celti, The Merchant Of Venice

#studyblr #studyinspo #uniblr #university #journal #journaling #student life #productivity #studying #knife gang #mine #the---hermit

304 notes · View notes

diaboliksupern0va · 4 months ago

Note

can i request headcanons for books and other forms of media laito likes?

➸Laito Sakamaki's Media Recommendations

Bubble/Glass: OOH IT WAS FUN TO MAKE THESE!! Please request more like this guys! WARNING: DARK CONTENT IS MENTIONED

Music~

➸Favorite Classical Song-Claire Du Lune. ➸Laito LOVES Doja Cat, her confidence, everything. ➸He used to love Britney Spears and still does!! Favorite song is Work B*tch. ➸Sabrina Carpenter is also up there, he loves the song Bed Chem. Played it so much once, that Ayato wanted to rip his ears out. ➸Loves the Dangerous Woman era Ariana Grande did. ➸Throw is some Ari Abdul and you've got Laito's playlist! ➸However, Laito also has some rock bands he took a liking to! ➸To be specific, Jane's Addiction has a really special place in his heart. ➸Loves Blink 182's playfulness, but that's more an Ayato and Subaru band, so don't quote me on this. ➸I heavily headcannon Laito had an emo phase, so yes, he once loved MCR and Pierce the Veil like Subaru. Sometimes he still revisits this phase and puts on eyeliner and such, but that's off topic. ➸Listens to Patricia Kaas too! ➸Lastly- He listens to a lot of underground artists off of TikTok before they get popular, some say he's got an eye for figuring out who will become famous.

Books~

➸Has reread Haunting Adaline and Hunting Adaline (H.D Carlton) wayyyy too many times. He loves the chemistry. ➸ Captive in Dark (C.J Roberts) he got the moment it came out and finished reading within the day. He wants a signed copy really bad. ➸THE TWISTED SERIES AH- He loves Ana Huang for her writing style and loves the character building! ➸Had read 50 Shades of Gray but he didn't like it as much as he thought, because it reminded him of Reiji.

Movies~

➸Now the 50 Shades of Grey Movies however, he loved. ➸9 1/2 weeks is another favorite, he rewatches this when he feels alone. ➸Don't Worry Darling- He thought this movie was great and recommends it to anyone. ➸Dark Shadows with Johnny Depp is another favorite because he loves how inaccurate it is with Vampires. He's actually a Johnny Depp fan! ➸Also likes the Edward Scissorhands movie for some reason... ➸Cackles at the Twilight movies, find them more a comedy than a romance.

#diabolik boys #diabolik lovers #diaboys #aesthetic #dialovers laito #laito sakamaki #diabolik lovers laito #laito x reader #diabolik lovers headcanons #headcanon

59 notes · View notes

dinarosie · 8 months ago

Note

hi i am actually very interested in the fact that you are "anti-marauders" because i have a strong feeling you've never actually had a conversation with a (real, not tik-tokified) marauders fan. i don't particularly "hate" snape, but i do NOT think he's a good person. i have a lot of similar nuanced feeling pertaining to peter, and i will admit that james and sirius are often childish and did bully snape. i've decided to reread half-blood prince, and rewatch the movie, so i can have a real conversation of my opinion on snape, and i will send in another ask later.

also, sectumsemprus (is that it?) is his SIGNATURE spell- for reference, voldemort's signature spell is avada kedavra, and harry's is probably expelliarmus. do you know how many times you have to use a spell for it to become your signature spell?

Hi there! Thanks for reaching out.

First, I want to clarify that I use anti-Marauders tags not because I created this blog solely to spread hate against them or to harass their fans, but because it’s a general Tumblr rule. For nearly any post criticizing a character, you’re expected to use anti tags, as fans of that character might not want to see critical posts about their favorite. This ensures fans who may not want to see criticism of their favorite characters can filter or avoid it if they choose.

Now, you mentioned that I probably haven’t talked to a “real” Marauders fan, which is why I have anti-Marauders posts. But honestly, I don’t think all fans of the Marauders share the same views, nor is it possible to talk to every fan before making a post. I see a lot of anti-Snape content daily—much of it from Marauders fans—and often get an idea for a post that I decide to share. I imagine most bloggers do this; it’s part of engaging with fandoms online. I try to offer thoughtful critiques when possible, but that does take time. Sometimes, seeing particularly harsh, illogical, or double-standard comments pushes me to post a short, sarcastic response—one that mirrors the style of some of the content I encounter.

Overall, I wouldn’t call myself “anti All of Marauder fans.” Yes, I use terms like “Marauders fans” and “anti-Marauders” tags, but my issue is only with fans who unreasonably hate Snape and mock him (even for things like his background) or who attack Snape supporters, labeling them with hurtful terms simply for supporting him. Outside of those specific cases, I have no problem with other fans.

As for your question about Sectumsempra, I understand you’re suggesting it became Snape’s “signature” spell through frequent, harmful use. I looked up the reference you mentioned, and here’s the passage from Deathly Hallows where Lupin speaks of Sectumsempra:

“He lost his hood during the chase. Sectumsempra was always a specialty of Snape’s. I wish I could say I’d paid him back in kind, but it was all I could do to keep George on the broom after he was injured, he was losing so much blood.”

It’s worth noting the term Lupin uses here: specialty, not signature. Sectumsempra first appears in Half-Blood Prince as an unknown spell by an unnamed creator. After Harry uses it on Malfoy, it’s still an unfamiliar spell until Snape admits to creating it at the end of the book. But in Deathly Hallows, right after the Battle of the Seven Potters, Sectumsempra becomes widely associated with Snape (via Lupin’s words).

While in Half-Blood Prince the goal is to keep the creator of this spell anonymous, in Deathly Hallows it’s crucial to know exactly who used Sectumsempra during the Battle of the Seven Potters. The inconsistency here seems intentional. The author isn’t referencing Sectumsempra’s notoriety here to highlight Snape’s past; rather, I believe she brings it up as an important clue about the future. This clue gains significance after we view Snape’s memories, especially after reading Dumbledore’s line to him just before the Battle of the Seven Potters:

And Severus, if you are forced to take part in the chase, be sure to act your part convincingly… I am counting upon you to remain in Lord Voldemort’s good books as long as possible, or Hogwarts will be left to the mercy of the Carrows..."

But in THE PRINCE’S TALE, we see that Snape defies Dumbledore’s advice—he steps out of his role as a Death Eater and targets another Death Eater with a spell that’s highly conspicuous, one that could jeopardize his cover. (If successful, and had it hit another Death Eater, they would have immediately recognized the spell as Snape’s own.) So why would Snape make such an irrational choice? Why take such a risk? To save the life of Remus Lupin.

This scene is one of many that show Snape’s growth and commitment to doing the right thing—not out of loyalty to Lily, not for Dumbledore, nor for any personal reward.( And that's exactly why, in the chapter where Snape's true loyalty and the real story behind him are finally revealed, this spell and its backstory are brought up.) As he admitted in his iconic line to Dumbledore, he had grown weary of watching lives be lost when he had the power to save them. Whether it’s an old bully, Lucius and Narcissa’s son, or James and Lily’s, Snape steps in without hesitation to protect a life—even if it endangers his own

Another reason I don’t believe the author’s aim here is to highlight Snape’s crimes as a Death Eater is that there are numerous scenes throughout the series discussing Snape’s actions during that time. Yet, we never see any indication or hint from the author that Snape committed serious harm or atrocities while serving as a Death Eater. In fact, in his argument with Bellatrix, it’s mentioned that Snape actively tried to avoid participating in missions. During his planning conversations with Dumbledore, we’re also told that his soul has never been tainted by murder. And in Karkaroff’s trial, there’s no crime or accusation he can use against Snape.

#pro snape #severus snape #snape fandom #snapedom #snape defender #deathly hallows #snape #sectumsempra #anon #snape meta

78 notes · View notes

vroomvroomcircuit · 1 year ago

Text

Drive all Night

(A/N): This is inspired by the song "Call your mom" by Noah Kahan.

Summary: Max is worried about the sudden shift in his best friends behavior. But he is willing to drive all night to get to the root of the problem.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader (little childhood friends to lovers on the side with angst/hurt to comfort)

Warnings: Association to Max's shitty childhood, reader has depression/a depressive episode, implicit mentions of suicide, listen to the song and you get the vibe

Wordcount: 2.4k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________

Max Verstappen is not a big worrier. Actually, he is no worrier at all.

When there is something to worry about, he just changes it. If he can’t change it, it’s out of his area of responsibility, so he doesn’t have to worry about it.

Thinking like that helped him focus through great challenges. But his mindset wasn’t the only motivator. Through all his highest highs and lowest lows, his best friend has been right next to him, either cheering him on or being the shoulder to cry on he just needed.

(Y/N) and him befriended each other in kindergarten, having felt this unexplainable pull to each other. Ever since playing with Legos together for the first time they had been inseparable if they could help it.

Of course, as they got older and Max’s career in karting took off and (Y/N) had to focus more on school, they started to shift to calling and texting more than relying on in person talking. But that didn’t stop them staying best friends. One might even argue that through their 24/7 updates to each other, they grew even closer.

Meeting in person in their adulthood had become increasingly easier. Sometime (Y/N) travels with Max to several races back to back, being blessed with a remote working job.

The young man starts to suspect something isn’t going smoothly during one of their daily face time calls with her being in her dark bedroom and him in a hotel room halfway across the world. “But enough of how annoying these marketing things are. What did you do today? Except for work of course.” Max just finished another yapping season about the last challenge the social media teams had him participate in.

(Y/N) just shrugs her shoulders while focusing on a loose thread in her shirt. “Nothing much. I reread pride and prejudice.” Max halts a bit in his rummaging through his suitcase, being on the look out for his charger. “I thought you had plans for lunch with a friend? And didn’t you read through that book last week already? You do know that no matter how often you read it, the ending will stay the same.” He jokes a bit.

While still not shifting her gaze towards the phone screen, (Y/N) answers in mumbles. “I canceled on her. I really felt icky today, but we will try to set up another meet up some time next week or so.”

At first Max doesn’t think of it as much. Everyone feels not like socializing every one in a while. But then something else changes. The frequency of their calls and texts.

“...here we can do- Max? Are you even listening to me?” Max gets caught off guard by that question. GP was going over some points with him before starting FP2. “Oh, uhm, sorry GP. Gimme three seconds, I just want to reply to (Y/N). It seems like she didn’t have a great day and I just want to make sure she’ll be alright until I’m out of the car.”

This makes his race engineer raise his eyebrows. “Oh, what happened?” “I don’t know. But she is rewatching one of her comfort shows for the third time in two weeks.” He blinks at the Dutchman. “And in what way is that concerning?”

Okay, voicing his worrisome thoughts out loud like that makes Max realize that the signs are not too obvious for outsiders. But he is talking about his best friend. The person that always makes sure that he won’t go without his needed amount of sleep. The same person he had been having phone calls that resulted in four out of the last seven nights with him getting not more than 5 hours of sleep, if that at all.

For an outsider it doesn’t seem bad for (Y/N) to reread the same books and rewatch the same shows over and over again. Or having her best friend, the person she became emotionally most dependent on, talk with her through her nights.

But for Max, it raises red flags. It hits his alarm bells, ringing out loud that something is majorly wrong. He can’t put his finger on it, not just yet. He is still looking for a way to get her to tell him what is bothering her.

There is a certain uneasiness to Max during that entire race weekend. He is just itching to seat his ass on a plane on his way back to his (Y/N), a friend that he might harbor more than just platonic feelings for. A person that had his back all the time.

To the person he loves the most, that is also struggling the most right now.

He wants to be able to pay her back for all the times she stuck through his darkest times.

But something in him is scared that he isn’t able to get to her in time. “Didn’t you want to go out with a colleague of yours for drinks last night?” Max asks into the phone while speed walking through the airport. Ever since leaving his hotel room on this fine Monday morning, he has been on a phone call with (Y/N).

A sigh greets his ears. “I wanted to, but I didn’t feel like dressing up or sharing a space with a bunch of strangers. I just ordered some food in and watched your race.”

There is another red flag. (Y/N) maybe was never a big socializer to begin with, but she liked going out every now and then. But for a couple of weeks now the only thing Max gets to hear about plans is that she canceled them.

Listening to her just cutting contact with the outside world like that, it doesn’t only worry him. It’s not even scary. It terrifies him.

The two of them continue talking the whole plane ride until (Y/N) falls asleep. Even then Max doesn’t hang up. He still lets the call continue, not wanting her to wake up and feel alone. She doesn’t deserve to feel alone.

No one does. But especially not her.

When he was in karting, some kids gave him grief for winning most of the time. It was difficult for little Max to understand. So do people not want him to win?

It became more confusing to him since some people around him wanted him to win desperately. It hurt him, not understanding the difference of who wanted his best and who wanted to see him fail.

He felt isolated from his peers, especially those who should understand under what pressure he was, because they must feel the same. Right?

During these days, where he rather stopped driving in circles in a very fast manner and just continued playing football, (Y/N) was his only footing. She talked him out of ending his career in motorsport. She painted a picture of his future in the prettiest colors with her words. She gave him something to look forward during these trying times.

And when it got harder before it got easier, she held his hand and reminded him that she will always stay by his side.

Now it’s Max’s turn to show her that he will always stay by her side.

He opens the door to her apartment slowly, trying to make the least noise possible.

Every room is shrouded in what must feel to her like a never ending darkness. The blinds are drawn in front of every window, hindering the tiniest bit of sunlight to filter through. Even to Max it feels like the despair that is in the air will never stop. It is all consuming.

He tiptoes towards her bedroom. There she lays, illuminated by the low light of his phone screen. Curled up tight under a bunch of blankets and between a mountain of pillows and stuffed animals.

The MV lion, the first one that has ever been produced, the original prototype before giving the go for mass production, is held tightly and close to her chest. It pulls on his heartstrings, seeing the comfort it must have brought her while he was absent.

Max kneels down at the head of the bed, gently shaking her awake. “Schatje, come on. Wake up. We got a day of new adventures just in front of us outside the door.”

It’s something they started to say in elementary school. They once read a book in class with the premise that every day is the start to a new adventure. You just have to welcome it in. Back then, when inviting something unknown in your life was considered exciting, not scary or life changing.

“The adventures can wait a day longer.” She mumbles and turns around, trying to shake his hand on her shoulder off. But Max is having none of it.

“The darkness is fooling you. Every light that has been turned off can be turned on.” He gets up and opens the blinds. Sunlight floods the room, and even at the messiest state the young man has seen his best friend, she still is the most beautiful woman on earth to him

(Y/N) lets out a noise of unpleasantness. “Please Max, I can’t deal with it today.” “No, you will. We are going to deal with it, whatever this it is, together.” He marches over to her dresser and produces a clean set of clothes out of thin air. That is what it looks like to her in this mess at least.

“You are going to shower. After that we will take a drive with no destination.” His words are final and in a tone that makes the young woman drag her limbs and body out of the bed and trudge towards the bathroom, even when the unwillingness is evident by her groaning.

Hearing the shower is Max’s cue to sit down and take a deep breath. He doesn’t know what he expected, but seeing the light of life missing in (Y/N)’s eyes isn’t on that list. It feels like a punch to his gut, witnessing her wither away without knowing from what.

It doesn’t take long and they both sit in the car. A drive without destination is exactly what it says. Just Max driving with (Y/N) sitting in the passenger seat. Usually they used these trips to catch up, to talk about everything and nothing. To voice big philosophical thoughts and dumb brain farts. They started this tradition, that usually includes some sort of fast food, when Max got his drivers license.

But sitting in complete silence for five minutes straight. That is something new.

“You know,” Max breaks it after another seven minutes. “Not talking about it won’t make the problem go away. It also doesn’t hinder it in its existence. Instead it will just get heavier and heavier until you break under the weight.” His dry tone isn’t something she anticipated.

(Y/N) looks out the window, seeing the colorful sunset for the first time in weeks. It’s easy to forget the beauty of the world when your inside thoughts feel like a graveyard. “I don’t want to worry you.”

That admission nearly has the Dutchman emergency breaking in the middle of a street through the fields. “So you play cat and mouse with your feelings because you don’t want to worry me?” (Y/N) nods.

Max lets out a laugh. “So what exactly makes you think that me witnessing you just becoming a shell of who you once were won’t worry me?”

She shrugs. (Y/N) didn’t expect him to catch that something feels wrong in her.

“Schatje. I will always worry about you, You are too important to me to not worry about you. Seeing you wither away in yourself, it made me scared going out on these tracks, sitting down in the car, and wondering if you still breathe while I’m driving another mile. Not knowing what you feel, that worries me more than the truth. Because then we can work on getting you better together. But when you don’t let me in, I can’t help and feel like by just standing and witnessing without intervening that I’m at fault for anything that happens to you. It hurts more seeing you hurting than knowing what you hurt from.”

She turns towards Max, mustering his side profile. She hasn’t thought about how her actions are perceived by her surroundings. (Y/N) just fell into that hole of darkness unexpectedly. While sitting at the bottom of that somber pit, she thought that trying to reach out for help would mean another person gets pulled into it.

If there was one person she doesn’t want sitting next to her in that dark hole, then it is Max. She harbors too much love and affection for him to want him to suffer the same fate as her. So not talking about her darkest thoughts seemed like the best way of keeping him far away from the hole.

But it just drew him in closer.

(Y/N) finally sees what he saw the whole time.

“You know, it’s hard to explain what happened. It takes time to really understand what goes on in me right now.” Max puts a reassuring hand on her leg. “We have all night to talk about it. Help me help you. Let us find a strategy to get you better. May it be medication, meditation, punching me or falling in love with someone. I need you to find a reason to stay with me, physically and mentally.”

She puts a hand over hers and looks Max in the eye for the first time since he arrived. “I already fell in love.”

He doesn’t need to hear more.

Max keeps his promise. He drives through the night, holding (Y/N) to the best of his ability while she cries, curses and explains.

By that not everything is picture perfect again. But it’s the first step. The first one to a future they both want to share with each other. For now and ever, that is enough motivation for (Y/N) to keep going, to continue turning every light on that was off.

#max verstappen image #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x fem!reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x you #reader insert

201 notes · View notes

celiastjamesoscar · 2 years ago

Text

Happiness is a Butterfly

Pairings: ghostface!Sam Carpenter x shy!reader

Summary: the plan was to tell you at some point, but Sam didn’t know how. Only when you find out by accident about your girlfriend’s activities, does Sam realize the consequences of continuing her father’s legacy.

Warnings: mentions of murder, protective Sam, one mention sexual abuse cases, hinted predator teacher, angst. Let me know if I missed any!

My Masterlist

AN: Came from this request! This wasn’t proof read at all, and I reread it once I wake up in the morning

Word Count: 9.9K

You sat in peaceful silence as you watched the TV. It was around 11 on a Friday night, and you were patiently waiting for your girlfriend, Sam, of eight months, to return home. You were over at her place, and you had been hanging out with Tara before she called it a night and went off to bed, leaving you alone in the quiet apartment as the soft voice of Daenerys Targaryen filled the air.

Usually, you would watch Game of Thrones with Sam, but with nothing better to do as you waited for your lover to return home from work, you rewatched the earlier seasons.

The sound of keys jingling at the door pulled you away from the TV, and you stood up from the couch as Sam walked into the apartment. “Hey,” she quietly said as she put up her purse and walked to you.

“Hey,” you replied with a smile as you kissed her for the first time since she left for work, “How was your day?”

Sam huffed at your question as she pulled you to the couch, “Better, now that you’re here,” she said as she sat on the sofa and pulled your legs into her leg.

“Well, I’m glad that I can help brighten your day,” you responded with a smile as you placed a quick kiss on your girlfriend’s lips, and she frowned at how short it was.

“Are you seriously watching Game of Thrones without me?” Sam questioned with a look of hurt as she watched the TV.

You scoffed at her words as you reached for the remote, “No, I was watching the older seasons while I waited for you. Do you really think I’m that evil?” You teased with a playful smile.

“Sometimes,” Sam quietly mumbled under her breath, hoping you didn’t hear her smartass comment, but luck had never been on her side.

“Well, then,” you said as you stood up from the couch, “If you want to complain about me, then I’ll just leave.”

“Come on, Y/N. I was just joking,” Sam whined as she watched you get up, hoping you were joking and weren’t upset, “Please sit back down.”

Deciding to take your joke a little further, you walked away from a disappointed Sam and into the kitchen. You heard your girlfriend groan, and you had to bit back a laugh as you grabbed a bottle of water before returning to your seat next to the woman.

You said nothing as you grabbed the remote, picked the episode you and Sam had left off on, and sipped your water before setting it on the coffee table and resting your head on Sam’s lap.

“I knew you weren’t actually mad,” Sam softly said as she ran her finger through your hair, and you hummed in response. You enjoyed these soft moments with Sam, even though she could be intense sometimes. You were naturally reserved and took to hiding in the shadows whenever you could, but when you were with Sam, you felt comfortable enough to let down your walls, and Sam loved that she brought you comfort.

Of course, because you were so reserved and passive, you let people take advantage of your niceness. You were never one to say no to people, so some nights, Sam would find you staying up until two in the morning finishing homework for people who only used you for their benefit.

Sam had tried to talk to you about letting people do this to you, but you shrugged it off and told her that you didn’t mind helping your colleagues occasionally. So, Sam became naturally protective of you, and if she were with you when someone asked you to do their homework, she would ‘politely’ tell them to fuck off. And you would hate to admit it, but you found it quite hot and flattering.

After you two finished an episode, you yawned and checked the time before groaning. “Come on, Sam. It’s time for bed,” you stated as you lifted your head from your girlfriend’s lap and stood up. Sam groaned as she stood up and followed you into her room, and she grabbed some clothes for her shower.

“Wanna join?” Sam asked with a mischievous smirk when she felt your eyes on her as she walked toward her bathroom. “You know, honey. There’s a gun in the footlocker in the garage. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to use it on me,” you replied, smiling as you followed Sam into her bathroom.

You undressed as Sam turned on the shower and took off her clothes as well. When the water was hot enough, you both stepped in and shared a kiss under the shower. “I love you,” Sam mumbled against your lips before pulling back and grabbing a pink loofah sitting on a shelf in the shower. “I love you too,” you replied as Sam turned you around, put some soap on the loofah, and gently washed your back.

The way Sam was with you, you couldn’t describe it. She was so gentle and loving, and she made sure you were always safe, sometimes being a bit too overprotective. Some people saw that as controlling, but you knew the real Sam; she would let you do whatever you wanted, as long as you were safe and updated her once every couple of hours. She just worried about you and wanted to protect you at all costs, even if that meant painting the town red every once in a while.

You two finished up your shower after sharing a few stolen kisses and got ready for bed before you laid in bed together. “Come here,” Sam said as she pulled you closer to her body, and you tucked your head into her neck before kissing her soft skin.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Sam whispered as she held you close. “Goodnight, Sam,” you replied with sleep in your voice. After a few minutes, you quickly fell asleep in your girlfriend’s arms, the safest place you could be.

Only, you didn’t know about the monster she hid within herself. You had no idea that your loving girlfriend was the same person violently murdering people at night, but all secrets are unveiled in the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aren’t you guys worried about the Ghostface attacks happening all over the city?” Your best friend Olivia asked. You two were at the library with Tara and Mindy, trying your best to cram in a study session before your calculus exam at the end of the week.

“Uh, no. I honestly would prefer it if someone violently murdered me to death right now because I do not want to take this exam,” Mindy replied nonchalantly as she flipped through her math packet, “You know, I’m glad Isaac Newton died a virgin, this shit is stupid.”

“I agree with you on that. But I am a little worried about the attacks, even though it hasn’t been confirmed as Ghostface ones,” Tara replied hesitantly.

Olivia shrugged at the two responses before turning to you, “What do you think about them?”

Unlike Mindy and Tara, you weren’t at the 2022 attacks, so you never had a connection with Ghostface until you started dating Sam. “I don’t know what to think,” you replied after thinking about it briefly. You weren’t much of a talker, even with your closest friends, and the current conversation was one you didn’t know you would ever be having.

“Whatever, I just think you guys should be extra careful. Especially you, Y/n,” Olivia said as she reached out and touched your wrist. “What? Why me?” You asked with concern.

Olivia gave you a flirtatious smile as she squeezed your wrist, “Because, silly, you are dating the daughter of the original killer. If that doesn’t put a target on your back, I don’t know what will.”

For unknown reasons, Olivia’s comment made your blood boil. She had no right to assume you were in danger just because you were dating Sam.

“Am I interrupting something?” A low voice asked from behind you, and you quickly pulled your hand away from Olivia’s grasp as you turned to face the voice. It was Sam, but there was something in her eyes that you hadn’t seen before, and it scared you. You knew that Sam would never hurt you, but you were still afraid of the murderous look she had.

‘No, we were just talking about the recent attacks,” you said with a smile, trying to ignore Sam’s murderous gaze. “Mhm,” Sam replied as her eyes burned into Olivia’s, who seemed ignorant about Sam’s frustration when she threw an arm around you.

“Y/N, here, seems to not care about the attacks, and I tried telling her that she needs to be worried!” Olivia exclaimed as she pulled you closer to her, and you tensed up at the contact. Physical touch was never your forte, but you only loved it from Sam, so everyone else who touched you made you uncomfortable.

Sam’s eyes darted between you and the girl, and she noticed how your eyes cried out for help, so Sam reached out to you, and you graciously accepted her hand. “I’m sure that Y/N is more than capable of protecting herself, Olivia. I wish I could say the same about you,” Sam replied as she pulled you from Olivia’s hold and to your feet.

Olivia huffed at Sam’s words before returning to her homework, clearly embarrassed that Sam had implied she couldn’t protect herself, which was true.

“I’m going to head home; you two coming?” You asked Mindy and Tara as you packed your things and placed them in your backpack. “No, I’m going to stay a bit longer; I’ll text you when I leave,” Mindy replied, and Tara said the same thing.

“Alright, just be safe. I love you two,” you replied, smiling before leaving the library with Sam.

“‘I love you two,” Sam stated once you two had gotten in the car, and you were confused at her reciting your words from before. “What?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

Your girlfriend started the car and looked at you before driving to your apartment. “You just said, ‘I love you two,’ and it confused me; that’s all,” Sam admitted as she continued driving. You were even more puzzled at her explanation, and you were worried that she was jealous.

“Sam, I don’t love them like I love you, so if that’s what you’re implying, then I don’t appreciate it,” you confessed as you fidgeted with your fingers, and Sam felt guilty for the misunderstanding.

A gentle and loving hand reached over and grabbed ahold of your hand. “No, I was implying anything like that, Y/N. It’s just you said ‘two’ and not ‘three,’” Sam observed with a smile, glad you didn’t tell Olivia you loved her.

“Oh, yeah,” you weakly replied as you laced your fingers with Sam’s. “Is everything alright?” Sam questioned when she heard your change of tone.

You sighed as you squeezed her hand and looked over at her; she had her eyes focused on the road but would occasionally look over at you when she had a chance. “Promise you won’t get mad?” You asked, and Sam immediately tensed up, expecting the worst.

“Depends on what it is,” Sam coldly stated, and you couldn’t decide if you should tell her the truth.

You took a deep breath and kissed the back of your girlfriend’s hand before you admitted, “Olivia kind of told me she has feelings for me.”

Sam scoffed at your statement, and you could feel the anger radiating off of her, but she gently squeezed your hand, telling you she wasn’t mad at you. “How long ago did she tell you?”

And that’s where the problem was; Olivia had told you almost two weeks ago, and you had hoped to avoid the situation altogether, but now you are driving home with your angry girlfriend.

“Two weeks ago,” you mumbled with your head hung low as Sam approached your apartment. Olivia’s confession surprised you, as you had been dating Sam for some time, and she also knew about your relationship. You explained to her that you cherished her friendship and that you cared for her, but only as a friend. And you also told her that your heart only belonged to Sam, which seemed to anger her, but you ignored it as jealousy.

“Unbelievable,” Sam huffed as she removed her hand from yours, and your heart sank at the loss of contact as tension filled the air. Her eyes were once again filled with that murderous rage, and you cowered in your seat, hoping she wasn’t angry with you, but you didn’t believe that for a second.

You two sat silently for several moments before you grabbed your backpack and opened the door. “Goodnight, Sam. I love you,” you weakly said with a weak smile as you exited the car and shut the door. You hated yourself for not telling Sam as soon as you found out, but you were just trying to protect Olivia from Sam’s wrath. But now, as you walked into your apartment building, still feeling the tension from earlier, you wished you could take it all back.

You had gotten in the elevator, and just before the doors shut, a hand slid in and opened the doors back up, and Sam stepped into the small metal box. “I don’t want you to go up alone,” Sam admitted while looking at the ground. You smiled at your girlfriend and gently brushed your hand against hers, and she laced your fingers together.

When the elevator reached the eighth floor, the doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment room together. “Are you coming?” You asked once you unlocked your door and pushed it open. The way Sam’s eyes refused to meet yours was laughable, but you feared that now wasn’t the best time to laugh at her insecurities.

Without saying a word, Sam allowed you to pull her into your place, and you shut and locked the door before taking Sam into your room. You set your backpack on the floor and pulled Sam into a loving hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Sammy. You have every right to know about Olivia having feelings for me; I just hoped I could have avoided the situation entirely,” you admitted against Sam’s chest as the older woman kissed your head.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m just glad I know now. And I’m not mad at you; I’m just upset with you, but I forgive you. You can’t control how people feel toward you, and I can’t control how awesome my girlfriend is,” Sam stated with a smile, even though her beautiful brown eyes still had a hint of anger and rage in them as you pulled back and looked at her.

You quickly kissed her before pulling out her grasp and getting ready for bed. “Are you staying here?” You asked while changing into your pajamas. It was only a little past five in the afternoon, so you hoped you could make dinner and watch a movie with your girlfriend.

“No, I got some stuff I have to do tonight,” Sam replied as her hungry eyes raked over your body as you changed, trying her best to keep her composure. “Like what?” You asked with a curious look.

A slight smirk appeared on Sam’s lips as she spoke, “Well, that takes the surprise out of it, doesn’t it?” You rolled your eyes at her reply but kissed her once again before you followed her into the living room. “Just be safe, Sam. And let me know when you get home,” you stated with a hint of worry. You knew Sam could protect herself, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“I know, Mom,” Sam sarcastically said with a smile. “Sam,” you deadpanned, and the woman shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, “I’m being serious. If I don’t get a text back when you get home, I will have your head.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll have my head soon enough,” Sam joked with a sly smirk as she kissed your lips and opened the front door, “But I promise I will text you. Okay?”

“You better.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied as Sam smiled and left your apartment. And you quickly locked your door before going into the kitchen and making some dinner for yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of your phone vibrating awoke you from your sleep. You fumbled for your phone before you grabbed it and answered the call. “Hello?” You husked as sleep was evident in your voice.

“Y/N! Are you okay? Where are you?” Tara panically asked as she paced around her room. It was almost two in the morning, and she was studying for her math test when the news came on, and her blood went cold.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m at my place. What’s going on?” You asked as you slowly moved in bed and turned on your bedside lamp. “Turn on the news,” Tara breathlessly replied.

Doing what the younger girl told you, you grabbed your TV remote and turned on the TV. “- A man was stabbed to death near 56th Street early tonight. Police are yet to release any information on the suspect, but we do know the suspect wore a Ghostface mask. As for the victim, 28-year-old William Donald was stabbed 22 times and killed. We are aware that Donald has had a history of sexual abuse cases, so we are left wondering if this is the act of a vigilante-”

Ringing was all you heard as the news anchor continued talking. You could see his mouth moving, but you only heard ringing as you exited your bed. You could faintly hear the voice of Tara as you texted Sam. You never received a text message from her, and you were starting to freak out; she always would text you when she got home, no matter how busy she was.

“Y/N? Are you there? Hello?” Tara asked as the ringing finally left your eyes, and you started to come back to reality.

“Where’s Sam?” You asked, and your heartbeat stopped when you heard Tara’s reply, “I thought she was with you.”

Panic coursed through your veins as you sprung up from bed. “No, she left here around 5, and she was supposed to text me when she got back home,” you replied as you put Tara on speakerphone and searched for different clothes.

“She never came home last night, Y/N,” Tara uttered, and your body went rigid. Thoughts of what could have happened to Sam ran through your mind as you changed into better clothing. “Fuck. Have you tried tracking her phone?” You asked while putting on shoes.

“Yeah, Life360 said her phone is off or dead. Y/N, I’m scared,” Tara weakly said; you swore you could hear the faintest sniffle. “Tara, it’s going to be alright, okay? I’m getting ready to head over, and I’ll be there in 10 minutes, okay?” You stated as you grabbed your keys and left your room.

“Okay, just let me know when you are here. Be safe, Y/N. I love you.”

“I love you too; I’ll be right there,” you replied as you hung up the phone and opened the front door to your apartment, and you nearly had a heart attack.

Sam stood before you with her hand raised as if she was getting ready to knock. She wore a blank expression while her eyes were dark, almost evil-looking, as they searched your face something. You quickly pulled Sam into a bone-crushing hug before you pulled back from her and slightly pushed her.

“What the fuck, Sam?! You don’t text me when you get home, and Tara just called me freaking out!” You exclaimed while your eyes examined her body, checking for any injuries she might have.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for her haunting dark eyes that never left yours. She wore all-black clothing, and her hair was damp as sweat glistened near her hairline. “Why are you sweating, Sam?” You questioned as your walls started to shoot up. You couldn’t help it that your first thought was that Sam was cheating on you; she didn’t text you back, either turned off her phone or let it die, and appeared in the black of night, sweating and with dark eyes that told the story of dishonesty.

“I ran here as soon as I could. I heard about the attack, and I needed to make sure you were alright,” Sam said as her hands reached out to your sides, but you pulled back, and Sam felt her heartbreak.

Your eyes darted over her face as you tried to decide what to do; on the one hand, you were glad that Sam was safe, but on the other, you were pissed she ghosted nine hours. “Why didn’t you text me when you got home?” You asked as you hid all emotion from your voice, and Sam knew she fucked up.

It’s not like she could tell you the truth; you would be mad at her either way. She hated lying to you, but she only did that when the truth would either push you away or sound like a lie. “I was picking up a gift for Tara, and I didn’t want her to know where I was, so I turned off my phone, and I lost track of time picking up other things for her,” Sam explained as she took off her bag and moved things around in it. You swore you could see the faintest outline of a white mask before Sam blocked your view with her body, pulled out a small rectangular box, and handed it to you.

You gave her a questionable look before slowly reaching out and accepting the box. It was light, but when you moved it around, you heard something move from side to side. You slowly took the lid off, and you smiled at the necklace.

It was a golden heart-shaped locket with floral designs on it. When you opened it, two small pictures were in it. One was a picture of Tara and Sam, and the other was of the Core Four plus you sitting on a couch.

“I picked this up from the jeweler's store earlier and got the pictures from Walgreens. I put them in the necklace while I sat in my car and made her a scrapbook. I guess I lost track of time, and I only realized how late it was when I heard about the attack on the news,” Sam said as she pulled out a scrapbook and handed it to you as well.

On the front center of the book was a weathered picture of Tara, Mindy, and Chad when they were close to eight, wearing matching ninja turtle pajamas. A small sticky note read, ‘When you guys performed a synchronized dance to convince me to let the twins stay the night.’ Underneath the picture, written in black Sharpie, were the words “The Core Four Adventures” and in smaller handwriting, “plus Y/N L/N.”

You laughed to yourself as you read over your name. “Tara would have gotten mad if I didn’t include you,” Sam whispered as she shuffled from foot to foot. You gave your girlfriend a loving grin as you felt your walls crumble before you opened your apartment door and ushered her in.

You two sat on your bed together as you flipped through the scrapbook, and you could tell this must have taken her hours to make. There were several pictures on each page, each with a small sticky note next to it, explaining how much the picture meant to Sam. Every picture included Tara, except one, and your chest fluttered as you looked at it.

It was a picture of you and Sam just before you started dating. You two were hanging Christmas ornaments on a tree. You were placing one on the tree while Sam held one in her hand, staring at you with the most lovesick eyes you had ever seen. The smile on her lips made your heart melt, and tears brimmed your eyes as you read over the sticky note. ‘This was the first time I realized I had feelings for Y/N. I was in denial about it until you showed me this picture you took of us. You changed my life that day in the best possible way, and I thank you every day when I wake up with Y/N in my arms.’

“Tara likes to say she brought us together, so I felt like I had to include that one,” Sam said as her eyes searched your face and noticed the tears in them, and panic set in. “I'm sorry. I should have asked you first if I could put it in,” she apologized as she took the book from you, “I can take it out if you want me to. Fuck, I am so sorry-” you cut off her rambling with a kiss, silently telling her it was okay.

“Sam, it’s okay. I love it,” you mumbled against her lips as you pulled away and set the book down next to the necklace. The dark look Sam had in her eyes was gone entirely, replaced with only the love she felt for you. You smiled at the change, stood up from the couch, and pulled her into your bedroom.

When you got in bed and cuddled into Sam’s arms, you quickly drifted off to sleep, feeling the love radiating off Sam’s body. How she was so gentle with you told you that Sam was telling the truth, and you let all the worry and doubt slip away as sleep took you.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam was glad you didn’t try anything with her tonight, or you would have seen the bruises and cuts that littered her body from William Donald fighting back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks had passed since then, and three more murders happened. With each killing that occurred, your fear increased with it as each one slowly got closer to your apartment. You didn’t fear for yourself per se, but you feared for Sam and the others.

“Sam, I don’t understand why you aren’t worried! Like, at all!” You exclaimed one night while you were over at her place. She has been nonchalant about the murders, but she still makes sure you have all kinds of protection on you when you leave her sight, anything ranging from mace to a small blade. Sam might not have been openly worried, but she made sure you were safe all the time.

You two have been arguing all night about the attacks, and it seemed the more time passed, the angrier you got, while Sam seemed to calm down more.

“Y/N, I am always worried! I just don’t want to freak you or Tara out with my worrying, so I’ve laid off on it,” Sam defended as she paced back and forth in her room while you sat on her bed. Naturally, she was worried, just not about the Ghostface attacks. As your fear increased for her and her sister, she became more worried about how you would handle the fact that she was the Ghostface that had been murdering people. It’s not like she was just playing eenie meenie miney mo to determine her next victim, Sam was picking the scums of the earth, those who had caused harm to others, and she played the judge, jury, and executor perfectly.

“That doesn’t help, Sam, and you know it!” You retorted as you pushed yourself off the bed and left Sam’s room. “Hey, where are you going?” Sam called out as she was a few paces behind you.

“I’m leaving,” you replied as you put on your shoes and grabbed your bag. “Y/N, you can’t leave. It’s dark out, and you said it yourself: The killings are getting closer to your place, so why don’t you just stay here?” Sam reasoned as she cautiously reached her hands out to you, and when you didn’t pull back, Sam wrapped you up in a hug, “Please, just stay here tonight. I know you’re pissed at me, but we need to talk it out instead of leaving.”

A few beats of silence passed before you mumbled against Sam’s chest, “I hate it when you’re right.” Sam laughed at your response and placed a quick kiss on your head before she pulled back, “Come on, let’s go to bed. I miss my girlfriend, and I really like some cuddles.”

You placed a quick kiss on Sam’s lips before you followed the woman into her room. You two climbed into bed together, and Sam quickly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest. She held you as if you were going to disappear in a matter of seconds, and the comforting hold brought you enough peace to fall asleep in minutes.

While you were fast asleep, a single tear ran down Sam’s cheek as she realized this might be one of the last times she held you in her arms. Afraid that when you found out the truth about her, you would turn her in, or worse, tell her that you wished you had never met her.

Sam could handle you turning her in to the police, but she could not stomach hearing you, the person who changed her life and made her believe that she was more than a cog in a machine; tell her that you regretted meeting her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The loud bass of music rang throughout the house as you pushed through the crowd and tried to find Tara. You had zero intention of coming to this frat party, but Tara told you that she was coming after she promised Sam she wouldn’t go. You were trying to save Tara from an angry sister, and you were trying to protect yourself from a grumpy girlfriend. You sent Sam a quick text, telling her that you were hunting down Tara at a frat party and that you should be home relatively soon.

“Hey! Have you seen Tara?” You shouted over the music at Mindy and Anika, who were passing around a bottle of whiskey. “No, but you might want to check the backyard. I think they are playing beer pong,” Mindy replied before taking a swig of the bottle, and you laughed to yourself when she made a sour face.

Finding Tara in the backyard was a more complicated challenge than you initially believed. The grass was packed with drunken people standing shoulder to shoulder as they stood around a table watching two challengers play an intense game of beer pong. You were making your way to the table when a hand grabbed yours and turned you around.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you! It’s been forever!” Olivia slurred out as she pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils.

You had been trying to avoid Olivia ever since you told Sam about the girl having feelings for you as a way to respect your girlfriend while trying to help Olivia lose feelings for you.

“Yes, it has been,” you replied with a fake laugh as you tried to wiggle your way out of Olivia’s hold. “So, how have you and Sam been? Still kicking it with grandma?” Olivia joked, but you could hear the venom in her words. She has never been fond of your relationship with the Carpenter girl, and whenever she gets drunk, she loves to let you know about her distaste for Sam.

You gave Olivia a fake smile, “Of course.” You wanted to mention how she was in a relationship with a freshly eighteen-year-old while she was pushing twenty-three, but you kept your mouth shut.

“I don’t know what you see in her. Honestly. She’s a bitch to everyone else, and she’s controlling,” Olivia said as she licked her lips while her eyes dropped down to your lips. ‘Please don’t,’ you thought as you watched her stare at your lips before looking back at you.

“Sam isn’t a bitch, she just doesn’t trust easily. And she’s not controlling; she lets me do what I want, as long as I’m safe,” you explained as you looked around for Tara, but a hand gripped your neck, causing you to turn your focus back to Olivia.

“Don’t look at anyone else. Please, Y/N. Just look at me,” Olivia whispered just before she slammed her lips against yours.

You didn’t have time to react before a booming voice called out from behind you, “Y/N, what the fuck is going on?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam could only hear the sound of ringing in her ears as she stood over some fool’s body. The man she had just murdered was a local school teacher, and he had gone to trial for acting inappropriately towards his students. Of course, he was able to walk free and return to teaching within a week, claiming he was an innocent man who had been a victim of a coup to get him out of education.

Of course, when Sam held a knife to his throat, his lips sang with all the crimes he had committed within those school walls, and when her knife cut his throat, she smiled as she watched the blood spill out across the floor. This had been the first murder within a couple of weeks; she only stopped for a period of time, so your worry would die just a bit. And it did, and Sam was glad that you were finally able to stop worrying about some murderer who might or might not come after Sam and her found family.

Still in her Ghostface and gown, Sam left the teacher in an abandoned building and went out to her car. She quickly changed, threw her outfit and mask in her trunk, and smiled when she saw your PlayStation. You were bringing it over so you could teach her how to play video games, even though you both knew it was going to end terribly. She closed the trunk, got in her car, and drove home. It might be odd to say, but she missed you at the moment. Sure, she might have just murdered a man, but she was still a softie who needed her nightly cuddles.

As she was driving, her phone dinged with a text message, and Sam hoped it was you letting her know that you were heading over to her apartment. But she frowned as she read over the words.

Mi amor 💕💍: Hey, please don’t get mad at me, but I’m at a frat party hunting down Tara. You know, the one that you told her not to go to. We should be home soon once I find the little shit. Anyway, I love you, Sam. See you soon <3

Of course, she smiled at your sweet words but couldn’t help the anger that stirred in her as she thought about Tara disrespecting her wishes. Tara had been just as worried as you were about the murders, but when they stopped for two weeks, Tara had made the decision that they were done for good and believed that she was free to party as much as she wanted.

“Sam, you told me not to worry about the killings, and I’m not! I’m just going to go to one tiny frat party to celebrate,” Tara reasoned one night after telling Sam she wanted to go to a party.

“Absolutely not,” Sam replied, immediately shooting down Tara’s hopes of getting shit-faced. “Just because the killings have stopped doesn’t mean you have to go out and party to celebrate.”

Because of this, the two sisters got into an argument, one with Tara saying that Sam was ruining her life and another with Sam saying that she was trying to protect her sister from having the life that she once had. Now, both girls were in the wrong, but you said nothing as you listened to them battle it out with words.

And that leads us to the current situation: a pissed-off Sam doing 50 in residential, trying to get the party as soon as she could while you had your lips on another woman’s.

Sam shoved past the crowd as she walked into the backyard, and anger flooded her veins as she saw you and Olivia kissing.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on?!” Sam demanded as she quickly approached you and Olivia. You two separated when you heard Sam’s booming voice, and you looked like you had just seen a ghost when you saw Sam.

“Sam, I can explain-” you started, but Olivia cut you off. “Sam, Y/N and I are in love. She doesn’t want you anymore; she wants me. So it’s best if you leave.”

The smile you saw on Sam’s face made your blood turn cold, and you felt the hair on your arms and neck stand up. It wasn’t the usual, loving smile you would see. No, this was something far more dangerous. There was no love in that smile, only anger, hurt, and a lust for something you couldn’t describe. Only when you saw the same lust flash in Sam’s eyes, you knew what it was: murder.

You’ve never seen Sam so angry before, but yet, you’ve never seen her this calm. It was as if she was born to have that serial killer in her eyes, and you slowly started to fear Sam at that moment.

“Y/N. What is going on?” Sam asked with a monotone voice as her eyes never left Olivia’s, and you could feel the anger radiating off of your girlfriend. You reached a hand out toward her and gently took Sam’s hand in yours. “Sam, I promise you, this isn’t what it looks like. I was here looking for Tara when Olivia grabbed me. She told me that it had been too long since we had last seen each other, and then she kissed me,” you explained, leaving out the details of her slandering Sam in hopes of saving your former best friend. But she ruined that for herself.

“Seriously, Y/N. You’re leaving out the best part!” Olivia exclaimed as she got close to Sam, and Sam made a sour face when she smelt the alcohol on the girl’s breath. “I told our dear, sweet Y/N that you were too old to take care of her and that she needs someone younger. Someone who can make her happy instead of reading her bedtime stories. And I also told her that you were a bitch, which, let’s be honest here, is the truest thing I have ever said!”

“Olivia, that’s enough,” a new voice stated, and you smiled when you saw Tara walk up. She staggered as she walked, but her voice sounded sober and threatening. “I’ll let you slander Y/N, but I draw the line at Sam. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The fuck do you mean I don’t know what I’m talking about?! Sam is, and always will be, a bitch! I mean, come on, Y/N! Why can’t you open up your eyes and realize how much better I am than her? Or are you just as pathetic as her? Huh? You're too afraid to give a real woman a chance, so instead, you stick with a pathetic former drug addict. I guess you were always weak, but I didn’t think you would be this fucking pathetic. But I guess you will always be-” Any word that was about to leave Olivia’s lips died when Sam’s fist connected with her face. The sound of bone crunching echoed over the loud music, and then it went silent.

The music was still playing, but Sam could only hear ringing in her ears as she hit Olivia again, sending her to the ground. Before you could react, Sam was mounting Olivia’s waist and continued her assault on the girl. When Sam brought her fist up again, you quickly caught it and forced Sam to look at you. “Sam, that’s enough. Let’s go,” you stated, leaving no room for negotiation as you pulled Sam off the girl.

Sam grumbled at your statement but got off of Olivia nonetheless. You, Sam, and Tara made your way out to the older sister’s car, only stopping to explain the situation to Mindy and Anika.

“Good luck with her,” Mindy joked as she watched an angry Sam sulk in the corner with Tara beside her while you talked to the two girls. “Tell me about it,” you mumbled with a weak smile before telling the girls goodbye and walking to Sam’s car.

The car ride was silent; not even music played to help ease the tension. You were in the passenger seat while Tara was in the back, silently praying to the old gods and the new that Sam would take pity on her, but she doubted that would happen.

When you three arrived at the Carpenter apartment, Sam made no effort to get out of the vehicle, whereas Tara flew out as soon as the car came to a halt. You looked over at Sam’s right hand, and you saw the knuckles were already turning a deep shade of purple while blood had dried on them.

Slowly, you reached out to Sam and gently took it in yours before bringing it up to your lips and placing a loving kiss on the back of her hand. When your lips made contact with her skin, Sam let out a sigh she didn’t know she was keeping. The way you were so gentle with her made her extremely emotional, and after the night she just had, she wanted to be vulnerable with you.

“I love you, Sam. You know that, right?” You said against your lover’s hand as you peppered kisses on her hand, then her wrist, and all the way up her arm, and you stopped at her shoulder, “I love you more than anything else, but you didn’t have to do that. You don’t have to defend me like that; it will only get you in more trouble with the media than you already are.”

“Y/N, I know you worry about me, but I had to defend you,” Sam replied while you placed another kiss on her hand.

“I know, Sam. But what will happen when people hear about this and-”

“I don’t care about what people say or think about me, Y/N! I don’t care! But I do care about you and everything that involves you. So if that means I have to throw a few punches from time to time, then I don’t care. Keeping you safe, that’s all I care about,” Sam breathlessly declared as her eyes finally met yours, and you saw love and understanding replace that lustful, murderous look.

“I know, and thank you for defending me, but I just worry about you too, Sam. You’re the love of my life, and I would die if anything happened to you,” you said with a soft smile as you looked at Sam with hearty eyes. Sam leaned over and placed a kiss on your lips and cherished the sweet moment with you, not knowing that it all would crumble down around her in mere moments.

“Are you ready to go inside?” Sam mumbled against your lips before pulling back. “Yep! Where’s my PlayStation at?” You asked as you turned in your seat and checked the backseat for it, but nothing came up.

“It’s in the trunk,” Sam thoughtlessly replied, too wrapped up in the moment with you to realize her grave mistake. “Okay, I’ll grab it real quick, and then we can head up,” you said with a soft smile as you got out of the car and went to the trunk. Only when Sam heard you open the trunk did she realize what else was back there, and she quickly got out of the vehicle and got to the trunk, but it was too late.

The crickets stopped chirping as if they knew about the situation as Sam slowly rounded the vehicle and was met with your expressionless face. “Y/N…” Sam trailed off as she looked in the trunk, and her heart sank when she saw that you were holding her blood-stained gown and caressing your fingers across the fabric. “I can explain this.”

You said nothing as you moved the gown to the side and grabbed the bloody knife that was formerly hidden. You traced your fingers along the blade's edge, and you shoved Sam off of you when she tried to take it from you in fear of you cutting your finger. Once you were done looking at the all-too-familiar knife, you set it down on the gown as you reached for the infamous Ghostface mask. You hadn’t to admit it, but the mask smelled like Sam, like your home. You ran a finger around the cheekbones and then around the hollowed-out eyes as Sam continued talking, but you could only hear ringing in your ears.

Only when you threw the mask down and closed the trunk did the ringing leave, and you could finally hear Sam talking again. “Y/N, please. Talk to me, baby,” Samatha pleaded as she watched you quickly walk off. Your head was completely empty as the woman beside you continued talking, continued begging you to speak to her, to hear her out. In another situation, it would have been amusing to see Sam beg this much, but not now. Not when you had just discovered she had been the one murdering those around the city.

The walk back to your apartment was one filled with tense, awkward silence once Sam realized she was going to get nowhere with you. Not right now, at least. She was going to give you some time to process what you had just discovered; she only hoped you wouldn’t take too long.

The older woman walked you up to your apartment, and only when you reached your place did you turn and face Sam. The look in her eyes broke your heart; it was full of regret that soon turned to grief. She was grieving her relationship with you, the future with you that she hoped would be a long and blissful one, and her life. You were Sam’s life, her heart, the reason she got out of bed in the morning, and she knew that she would not be able to live a life without you.

“Goodnight, Samatha,” you blankly said as you turned to open your door and shut it in Sam’s face. Once your door was closed, Sam couldn’t help the tears that escaped as her heart ripped open. She knocked and pleaded with a broken voice to get you to open that door and let her talk to you, but she got no reply. Sam knew it was useless; you had never called her ‘Samatha’ before, not even before you started dating.

Late one night, a couple of weeks after you had first met Sam, you asked her why she went by ‘Sam’ and not ‘Samatha.’ It was an honest question; you were curious as to why she wanted to go by her nickname, and you were glad that she did; it suited her a lot more than ‘Samatha’ did.

You thought she was going to tell you that she just thought it sounded cooler when she was younger, so she kept it. Or that she went by Sam because it was easy to say. You didn’t expect her to open up about her traumatic childhood and how her abusive mother would only call her ‘Samatha.’ She told you that her mother never had anything nice to say, and every sentence would either start or end with Samatha, and it would constantly be belittling her. “It just got to the point where I started to hate everything about myself, even my own fucking name,” Sam had admitted before finishing, “But Tara would always call me ‘Sam’ because it “sounded cooler.” So, I decided to keep the nickname.”

When Sam had told you that, the only thought that plagued your mind was making sure that Sam knew how much you cared about her. So, for the first time, you held Sam in her arms while you two slept on the couch, and Tara snuck a picture of you two cuddled together. And to this day, that picture remains Sam’s Lock Screen as she stares down at her phone with tears in her eyes as she tries to unlock her phone so she can call you.

“Come on,” Sam muttered as she called you, and she let out a pathetic whimper when it went straight to voicemail. “Come on, baby, please. I need you,” Sam muttered again as she tried to call you for a second time, but to no avail. Panic started to settle into Sam’s bones as she tried to call you again and again, and after realizing that you weren’t going to pick up, she left.

Sam doesn’t remember how she got back to her place or how long it took her; the only thing she remembered was leaving your apartment and then collapsing into her bed. For the first time since she stayed with her sister in the hospital almost a year ago, she cried herself to sleep. With every tear that ran down her cheek it signaled her love for you, her regret for lying to you, and her grieving for any future that you two might have had together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t talk to Sam for two weeks, and truth be told, those were the worst weeks of your life. You had gotten so used to falling asleep in Sam’s muscular arms that you were always cold despite having numerous blankets on top of you. When you would get up and go to the bathroom at night, you would always come back to an awakened Sam who was outstretching her arms, patiently waiting for you to come back to bed so she could cuddle with you some more.

Your heart cried out for the home you had once known, but now, you were sleeping in a cold bed with no one to warm it with you. You would twist and turn into the hours of the morning, and you would cry when you realized that Sam wasn’t coming back.

When you weren’t sulking at home about your collapsing relationship, you went to parties with Tara. The girl knew about your quick change in mood but just chalked it up to be your shy personality. At the parties, you would third wheel with Anika and Mindy, but when someone brought up the previous Woodsboro killings and ran their mouth with Sam’s name in it, you became unnaturally aggressive.

One moment, you were standing awkwardly next to the couple, and then the next, you were on top of someone, beating the holy hell out of them. It took both Mindy and Chad to pry you off of them, and that’s how you would spend every party you went to; getting into fistfights with random strangers. You had gotten into so many fights in such a short amount of time that your fists had turned a permanent dark purple color, and they ached every time you moved your fingers.

You and Sam might not be on the best of terms at the current moment, but you would be damned if you let some random stranger slander her name. You would die for that woman; you just needed time to process what you discovered about her. And if that meant taking your anger out on incels, then so be it. But it’s not every day that you find out the love of your life, your soulmate, is a serial killer. No matter if they were killing the innocent or the guilty, it still changed your perspective of things. You were getting ready to pay Sam a visit when the woman had texted you.

Sammy 😩🖤: We need to talk. You can come over here if you want to. Tara is home, so that way you might feel safer to be around me. Or I can come over to your place, whatever works for you.

Your heart broke as you read over Sam’s text again and again. The fact that she was worried that you might feel unsafe around her killed you, and you only wanted to hold her in your arms. But, you have also grown to know what it means when someone says, ‘We need to talk’; it always means a breakup.

The thought of your relationship ending with Sam was not one you had expected nor wanted, even though you ignored all of her attempts to talk to you. You weren’t doing it because you were angry; you were just trying to find the right words to say.

Instead of ignoring her texts like you had done with the previous ones, you replied.

Y/N L/N: Yeah, I’ll head over to your place. I’ll be there in ten minutes

With a deep breath, you put your shoes on, grabbed your phone, and walked to Sam’s apartment. The walk there was peaceful despite the late afternoon traffic. It allowed you to think about what you wanted to say to Sam when you saw her for the first time in two weeks, and you hoped that you could save your relationship with the woman.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of Sam’s door, and you took a deep breath before you knocked. In a matter of moments, the door opened, and your heart sank as you looked at your lover. Her eyes were darker than usual and had bags under them. You knew Sam hardly slept without you, and in a weird way, you were glad that the both of you needed each other. She had stress lines that showed near her eyebrows and a fake smile as she moved to the side and let into her apartment.

You followed Sam to her room, and she shut the door as you sat on her bed, preparing for the inevitable breakup that was surely to occur.

“Thank you for agreeing to talk with me,” Sam stated as she awkwardly stood between you and her dresser. She shifted from one foot to another and fidgeted with her hands before shoving them in her bomber jacket pockets. “There’s some stuff you need to know about before I start talking about why I wanted you here.”

You nodded at her words, silently encouraging the woman to continue, and with a deep, shaky breath, she did. “I didn’t want you to find out that way. I had planned to tell you at some point; I just didn’t know how or when. I knew that once I told you, I could lose you forever, and that scared the shit out of me,” Sam admitted as she blinked back tears but continued, “I love you more than anything, Y/N. I would die for you, but I respect your decision regarding our relationship. So if you’ll let me, I want to break up.”

A broken and weak noise left your lips as you tried to wrap your mind around Sam's words. You knew that it was coming, but hearing it with your ears made it real. “Why?” You asked as you tried to fight back tears, but when you saw how hard this was for Sam, you couldn’t help but let one escape. “Because I want to protect you, Y/N. And if you know about my activities and you choose to stay with me, you will get in just as much trouble as I would,” Sam reasoned.

“I don’t care,” you replied with a shake of your head. “I want you, Sam. No matter what you do. As long as you don’t get caught, I don’t care. I love you more than life itself, and being apart from you for just two weeks was enough hell to last me a lifetime. If you want to continue our relationship, I would appreciate that. But if you really want to stay together, I would like to return to my home then.”

When Sam realized that you were here for the long haul, she allowed herself to be selfish for the first time in her entire life. She slowly approached you and gently took your hands in hers. Sam ran her fingers over your bruised knuckles and placed a kiss on all ten of them before she spoke, “Tara told me you have been getting in fights.”

Feeling embarrassed, you tried to pull your hands away from Sam, but the woman refused to let you go, almost as if she was terrified you had finally come to your senses and were trying to make a run for it.

You stood up from Sam’s bed and wrapped your girlfriend in a tight hug, and you smiled when you heard her let out a whimper-like noise when she felt your arms around her. “I was only defending your name,” you mumbled into Sam’s chest as the woman laughed at your response. “You know I don’t care what people say about me,” Sam retorted with a small laugh.

“I know, but I still like to defend you from time to time, even though you can be an asshole sometimes,” you joked, and Sam only pulled you into a tighter hug. “Thank you, Y/N,” Sam replied and let a few beats pass before speaking again, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you stated as you pulled back from Sam’s embrace and smiled at the slight frown on the woman’s lips, “Are you ready for me to teach you some video games?” You commented as you turned on your PlayStation and grabbed a remote before sitting back down on Sam’s bed and patting a spot next to you.

Sam rolled her eyes at your action but sat down next to you. She listened as you explained to her how The Last of Us works and the lore of the game, but the only thing she really wanted to do was hold you in her arms. But when she made a pass at you, you rejected her advances until she played at least one mission.

You watched and had to bite back several laughs as Sam struggled to get down even the most basic of moves, but you were happy to have your Sammy back.

‘If she’s a serial killer, then what’s the worst that could happen to a girl who’s already hurt?’ You thought as you watched Sam get angry at the clickers and almost throw her remote. No matter what happened, you were glad that you got to spend as much time as you could with Sam, your home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: there’s a small mention of Sam and her hands, and I pulled that inspiration from @samcscreams post about how Sam feels towards her hands. You guys should check out their work, it’s simply alluring!

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #scream #Gf!Sam Carpenter #ghostface #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x female reader

697 notes · View notes