#melrodrigo

[melrodrigo]

friends? - cairo sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: A new class leads to some heated feelings

Warnings: Finally wrote an enemies to lovers, they’re academic rivals ur honor, my writing, cairo being a meanie, quite an excessive use of italics

Word Count: 1k+

A/n: wanted to practice some, tell me what u think? do you want a part two?

“Cairo Sweet.” You read aloud, scrolling down your class list for the next year. Winnie —your best friend since childhood—laughs quietly at the sound.

“Funny name.” She mumbles when you quirk an eyebrow at her.

There was no reason to think ‘Sweet’ was a weird surname; however, Winnie, at the moment, was high out of her mind, so you let it go.

“Jacob Weinstein, Sophie Bell, Anthony Smith—god I don’t know any of these people!” You whisper, the slightest bit of anxiety creeping in.

Your first day is tomorrow, and you’ve sworn to yourself not to check who is in your specific class, wanting to try to spontaneously make new friends.

The keyword was try, because god you were bad at small talk.

Even in her mellowed state, Winnie could tell the nerves were settling in. She reaches out and draws you towards her, sitting so you’re facing each other, only a finger away from completely pressing into one another.

She swirls the lollipop in her mouth around, angling your head to look her in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be fine. Don’t sweat it, please? It makes me sad to see your pretty face in distress.” She spoke evenly, making you feel like you had steady ground to walk on, helping you come back to earth. You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t know you were holding.

“You’ve got to stop flirting with anyone and anything that moves.” You tell her, lightheartedly. She had helped taken the edge off, for now.

-

Bless her heart, Winnie’s reassurance lasted about until she left for her own home, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the big lonely house you had to call home.

It takes a book, or maybe two, for your eyelids to flutter shut, comforted by the smell of old paper and the feeling of coarse parchment.

Walking to school is no different. You listen half-heartedly to whatever Winnie decides to babble about this specific morning, your mind elsewhere.

As you near the doors of your next class, Winnie gives you a quick wink.

“Good luck soldier.” She says, smiling an almost teasing smile.

The minute you push open the doors you’re taken by surprise. It was fairly early, and though you expected no one would be there yet, there was a girl sitting smack dab in the middle of the class. Her head rested on her hands, staring blankly at the chalkboard in front of her.

You walk up silently to the desk behind her, far enough so you weren’t in the first few rows, but close enough that you wouldn’t be sitting with all the slackers in the back.

You slip out a book, kick your feet up to rest on the wooden table, and relaxed slightly. She seemed to pay no mind to you, and didn’t seem to want to pay any mind to you.

After a few pages in, you realize you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over again, not quite comprehending the letters that now looked like a random jumble.

There was a sinking feeling starting in your stomach, as if something were twisting and screaming for your attention.

Table or chair, wind or sun—you couldn’t quite figure out what it was that was bothering you.

Your eyes wandered from the page to your surroundings, trying to pinpoint what it was.

You must’ve been making quite some noise, because the girl in front of you turns around, an obvious distaste on her face. The moment you lock eyes you feel it.

Ah, I know what it is now.

It seems almost silly to say, but you could swear, she was the root of your problems.

There was an almost inimical aura about her, the way she acts—the flick of her eyes, the slight clench in her jaw, her rigid robotic posture—was enough for you to cower.

Of course, you had never even talked to the girl, but you could tell all at once, you weren’t going to be good friends.

“Could you stop moving so much? It’s distracting me.” She tells you, in a manner too rude to be a real request.

Her eyes narrow when you don’t answer. You had elected instead to stare at her freckles, ones that littered her face. Not counting your current feelings for her, you couldn’t deny it, she was beautiful.

However, the way she was acting now was more than enough for you to be sure she was not someone friend-worthy, and you ignored her remark.

In a quiet retaliation, you wait till she titled her head back that you scratch the rug beneath you with the heels of your feet.

It creates a faint screeching sound. When the mysterious girl turns back once again, this time with fury in her eyes, you avert your eyes and look around the room, whistling.

You could tell you were pushing her buttons, but oh boy if it wasn’t just the most fun. If it weren’t for the sound of the door opening you’re positive she would’ve gotten up and confronted you.

In walked a short, scruffy, middle-aged white man whom you concluded must have been the teacher.

“I didn’t expect anyone to be in yet. Students aren’t usually thrilled to learn my class.” He said, sounding pleased with himself to have two new focused students.

“I’m quite excited to see how it’s going to go, I’ve never learned with a favorite author of mine.” The girl spoke, this time with no venom in her voice.

The professor let out a strangled sort of squeak, obviously caught off guard.

Great. She’s also a suck-up.

“Well, i’ll be damned. I’ve never met someone that’s read my book— other than my wife. Although I’m not sure if she even read the whole thing.” He said, failing to hide the excitement and disbelief he was surely feeling.

“I thought it was amazing commentary on modern marriages and love through difficult times.” She said, the light from outside lighting her hair up a lighter shade of brown.

Blah, blah, blah. Someone save me.

As if hearing your prayers, another student entered the room, effectively cutting off that godforsaken conversation. More pupils start filling up the class, and even though you can tell the professor wants to keep talking to the brunette, he steps up to the small platform.

“Good morning class, my name is Mr. Miller, and I’ll be teaching you english literature.” He announces, voice full. You can tell he’d practiced this beforehand.

Your plan to make friends, to both your joy and dismay, get crushed almost immediately. There are no group activities or opportunities to even speak to the other people in the class, all attention directed to the front while Mr. Miller scrabbles on the chalkboard.

The brunette’s name, you learn, is Cairo. She manages to be the first person to raise her hand, to challenge Mr.Miller, to question almost every single thing on the board.

And even though that nagging feeling you felt when you first saw her is gone, you let yourself dissociate and simply stare at the girl. If the class was going to be boring, it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye candy, would it?

“Now, who can tell me exactly why Orwell chose to use these sets of words? What do they give to the overall tone of the book, umm-y/n?” Mr.Miller called, looking from his list of students.

You stir in your chair uncomfortably; you have not been listening to him. The air had turned very cold; your heart picking up its pace.

“I don’t know.” You mumble after a while of every face turned your way, impatience in their gaze. You shrink into your seat.

You hear a little scoff from ahead of you, coming from none other than Cairo Sweet.

You bite back an insult, and try to ignore the disappointed murmur that comes out of Mr.Miller.

Before you know it the hour is gone, and the sound of books stacking against one another breaks you out your daze.

Winnie’s waiting for you outside the door, quite creepily, you tell her as you walk together to your next class; a subject that you both have.

“So, how was it?” She nudges you lightly, smiling expectedly.

You flash her a tight lipped smile, then let it drop when you know she’d be able to see right through you.

You grip her arm and lean in closer, checking around you.

“There was this one girl, she was horrible!” You whisper, a new spark of energy flowing through you at the prospect of telling Winnie about it.

“She was the BIGGEST teachers pet, and she said something so rude to me before class, so like we were sitting and…” You continue to recount the story, trying your hardest to recreate Cairo’s glare.

When you get done, you turn to Winnie, waiting for her to join in on your gossiping.

“So am I going to witness an enemies to lovers type of thing right in front of me?” She sighs, exasperated.

You’re so shocked you don’t follow her into the class, stood rooted to the spot at the door.

“Wait, what?”

[wesstars]

not my go to- but def just fries

i am NOT munching on a whole cheeseburger in the theater, i do have a LITTLE respect for the people around me

I mean… actually if I wanted it bad enough I’d probably put it in a ziplock bag so it wouldn’t crinkle 😭

now I want mcd’s this is all ur fault

[crazyoffher]

WRITE U MF IM ABOUT TO SHOOTMYSELF IN THE HEAD

WHATTT DON’T DO THAT

i’ve been compelled to start writing… tomorrow

[ajortga]

hey guys, lowkey kind of bored and i've been reading a lot of fics, you know when you're on that grind and go through all your likes and read the most smuttiest or angiest or fluffiest stories, yeah.

okay so, if you're struggling for what or who to read from for jenna ortega and her character's fics, here are some of my most recommended users:

first up, the first ever series i've ever read that i've feel in love and obsessed over with is @rollingsins all her series, omg. i started reading so many fics after that and literally one of the most talented in my head. IF YOU NEVER READ ALL HERS OR THREES A CROWD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? literally all hers has changed my days around and has to be one of the best gf! tara series to have ever exist.

-@bingwriterxo, also one of the first writers to ever be encountered with, omg, her imagines on wattpad, i read them like every other day and her stories are so good for crying, binging, and such good angst and smut. i think i read like all her imagines in one day. HIGHLY recommend her shakespeare exhibit tara series.

-@wol-fica, OKAY, if i were to tell the truth, i read their stories almost every 2 days, they have such good drabbles for each jenna ortega story, and i personally love their fics because they are so fluffy or smutty. please check them out, they have me kicking my feet

-@melrodrigo, FIRST OF all LOVE TARDY SERIES, second of all, they have the same name as me, like crying, i have a name twin. THEIR DRABBLES ARE SO SO CUTE.

-@persevereforahappyending, absolutely so talented, i read their tara series he hung up and this isn't your fault so much, please go check them out, i love their work so so much

-@void-wolfie, ONE OF THE BEST ANGST JENNA ORTEGA STORIES HANDS DOWN. i honestly think that she captures emotions so so well when shes writing, like i can physically feel my chest go down during her stories.

-@crazyoffher, they have amazing works, captures emotions so well, i love the watchtower series.

-@tonyspank, by far amazing writer and works, i love their series, read their series pls, literally such good smut.

-@jazzyoranges, LOVE her writing, writing skills are immaculate, amazing work and is so good for if you're looking for angsty or smutty stories, cried when reading one of them and has such good writing skills, has the ability to make u feel goosebumps.

-@marvelfilth, if you're in the mood for some good smut, literally her works are perfect

-@writing-rat, so many writings to choose from and posts almost so frequently, i'm so grateful for fics like his

-@sorrowedpickle, HER WORKS ARE A WORK OF ART. makes your stomach do flips with her smut and writings, a lot of her posts are nestled safely in my like section.

-@the-oblivious-writer, LITERALLY ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS OF SERIES FOR JENNA, i highly recommend let the light in, i've read that so many times, love love love, i've been head over heels for that series.

@toournextadventure, AHH, i love his movie night series, makes me feel like im floating, check out his one shots too!

--

im honestly missing so many people, but these are such talented writers, please don't hesitate to recommend more in my inbox, but PLEASE check these amazing authors out, their works are amazing.

--

[bingwriterxo]

the shakespeare exhibit - drabble 4

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which tara enlists help to find you the perfect christmas gift

warnings: none

word count: 700+

author's note: for @melrodrigo -- good luck on ur exams!

previous part | next part

Tara’s phone was pressed against her ear as she paced around her bedroom, her feet surely burning a hole into the floor below. C’mon, c’mon, she thought, listening to the dial tone. Please pick up.

There were three days until Christmas; only three days until she was supposed to drive up to your parents’ house to celebrate the holiday. In theory, there wasn’t any issue with that. However, when Tara had woken up that morning, she had realized one very important thing: amongst all of her Christmas shopping, she had yet to get something for you.

“Hello?” The voice that answered the call was small, young, boyish. Tara perked up at the sound, grinning.

“Nate! Hi! It’s Tara,” she greeted.

There was a grumble on the other end of the line. “This is Eddie,” the boy said, clearly a bit annoyed at being mistaken for his brother. “What’s up, Tara?”

She sighed, embarrassed that she had to seek out your younger brothers, and admitted, “I need your help. Yours and Nate’s.”

“With what?” he asked.

“I don’t know what to get Y/N for Christmas,” she mumbled.

Eddie barked out a laugh, and Tara clamped her eyes shut, thinking, This is why you don’t ask a middle schooler for help. “Can you repeat that?” he giggled.

“You heard me the first time.”

After a moment of laughing, the boy said, “Yeah, okay. We can help you.”

Tara nodded. “Good. I’ll be there soon.”

* * *

Nearly four hours later, Tara was roaming the streets of your hometown, both of your brothers walking beside her sluggishly; they had already been helping her search for a present for an hour, and they were growing bored.

“What if you got her--” Nate started, only to be swiftly cut off by Tara.

“Nate,” she began, glancing at the boy, “if you suggest a real sword one more time--”

Nate shook his head, pointing his finger at a store on the other side of the street. “Look, they have a Shakespeare bust over there,” he said, his eyes sparkling with the same excitement you’d always have when you talked about the playwright.

Could he be any more like his sister? she wondered as she looked at the bust. It didn’t seem nearly as nice as the one you already had in your apartment, and she shook her head. “I don’t think she needs another one of those,” she said. More like I don’t think I need another one of those staring at me while we--

“You could get her a puppy,” Eddie suggested, a sly smile on his face.

Tara groaned. All of the suggestions that the boy had given had to do with animals, and with your busy schedule, she knew you couldn’t handle one of those. “Eddie, I can’t get your sister a puppy.”

Eddie frowned. “First you said no to the lizard, then the snake, then the cat, and now a puppy? What, do you not like animals or something?” He gasped. “Are you an animal hater?!”

With all of the self-control she could muster, Tara managed not to punch the boy. Thank god my mom only had two kids, she thought. I love these boys, but I would not have been able to handle a younger sibling.

“No,” she sighed. “I love animals, but your sister doesn’t have the time for any sort of pet right now,” Tara explained, her eyes continuing to scan the front windows of stores that they passed. “Besides--”

She was interrupted by Nate as he halted, throwing his arm out. “Hark!” he shouted, practically bouncing with excitement. Tara stopped short, whipping around as worry flooded through her. Is he hurt? I am so dead if he’s hurt.

Eddie took a little longer to finally pause, turning lazily and eyeing his brother. “Could you stop being such a nerdball?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“Shut up, Edmund,” Nate retorted.

Almost as soon as the name slipped from his lips, Tara was rushing forward to pull the boys apart from each other, yelling, “No hitting!” repeatedly. When she finally got between them, she sighed.

“Is this normal for you two?” she asked, glancing at each boy.

Nate nodded. “Yup.”

“Oh, definitely,” Eddie added.

Tara huffed. “Great.” She looked at Nate. “Now, why’d you scream ‘hark’ earlier?”

The boy pointed to the store that they had stopped in front of, his finger leading Tara’s attention directly to--

She gasped, her eyes widening and a smile adorning her face. “It’s perfect!”

[spookie-bitch]

Plot twist p2

Pairings: Jenna Ortega x fem reader

Contains: angst and fluff

Warnings: language

Prologue: After the events of last night you are left nervous not knowing what to expect.

You woke to the sound of light rain falling on the window outside.You wiggled out of Jenna's arms, careful not to wake her, got changed, and did your morning routine, desperately trying to forget everything as the light rain now turned into a more steady downfall. You felt so hurt, so betrayed, knowing someone so near and dear to you was keeping secrets, but you just couldn't bring yourself to ask Jenna about it. You didn't want to assume anything, and you definitely didn't want a fight. You decide that it's best if you just go about the day as if nothing happened, hoping that nothing will.

"See you soon," says Jenna. You put on your best smile, not wanting to arouse any suspicion. "See you later,' you say. As soon as the door shuts behind you the smile drops from your face, "what the hell," you think, "it's raining cats and dogs out here!" Your emotions are spiraling as your drive, you don't know rather to feel mad, sad, maybe your just being stupid. These unsettled emotions made the interview unbearably uncomfortable. "Finally," you thought, "I thought that would last forever." You stepped outside only to be met by more cold, unwelcoming, rain.

You step out of the car, you made it home early, and Percy's car is still in the driveway. Thunder boomed in the distance giving the already awful day an even more gloomy feeling. Your not even mad anymore, just miserable. You walk inside, Jenna and Percy are sitting at the table, they look like their having a serious conversation, but you could care less. The storm outside is spiraling, every couple seconds there is another lightning strike, closely followed by the invasive boom of thunder. "What the hell Jenna," You say desperately trying to keep yourself from snapping. "Oh hey love," she says nervously "your home early, did you get caught it the storm," she adds motioning to your drenched clothes. "Trying to change the subject are we," you said loosing whatever patience you had left.

She looks nervous, but not guilty, she's hiding something behind her back. "I heard the whole conversation last night," you yell, tears threatening to break through. "It's not- "Not what Jenna," you say just loud enough for her to hear as the tears break through the barrier they've been stuck behind all day. Percy looks terrified, and confused at the same time. The lack of guilt in either of their expressions should be comforting, but it's not. You can hear the wind from inside the house, it's loud, angry, and hurt.

"Stay there Percy," says Jenna as loud as she can, she's crying too. You see her shove whatever she was hiding in her pocket and grab your arm, dragging you out the door into the raging storm. "Jen," you ask in a concerned voice as she is now sobbing. She pulls a little black, velvet box out of her pocket and gets down on one knee. The anger of the storm is gone it's just rain now a strong but peaceful rainfall. She opens the box to reveal the most beautiful ring you're ever seen. "y/n m/n l/s," says Jenna tears streaming down her face. You just stood there not knowing what to say. "Will you make me the happiest person alive," it's a peaceful sprinkle now, your pretty sure you can see a rainbow, but your not paying attention to anything but Jenna. "And marry me," She finishes, still crying.

It all happened so fast, you didn't even have to think. "Yes," you blurted, picking her up off of the ground. " Goddamn It Jenna," your cry, "Yes!" She tosses the box gently to the side and jumps into your arms. Before you can say anything else her lips are already on yours, you don't even know why you were mad a minute ago, you just wanted this moment to last forever.

An: Sorry it took so long I was procrastinating (again)

@wol-fica @makncheese12@mar-romanova @somekindofpoet @rollingsins@slvt4lanadelrey @melrodrigo @omega-horus @jennasslut @lilgodeep @gggafie

[wol-fica]

Fav g!p reader / bottom jenna blogs?

(none of these are g!p reader but i like to flex my friends)

@somekindofpoet A GOD SENT INDIVIDUAL WHO IS MY COMFORT WRITER I LOVE U CRUSH

@melrodrigo wonderful writer !! very aesthetic lolol

@tonyspank i’m enjoying their “get me” series (though i’m stressing from the wait for the next chapter

@deep-fried-egg writes g!p :) i loved their alpha!vada fic they wrote

@/sleepinthrumyalarms writes some amazing wednesday fics, i miss seeing their works but whatever

any many more ofc (i’m to tired to find em all)

[slvt4lanadelrey]

💀💀💀

Did you really just drop @wol-fica for @bingwriterxo

Well, @melrodrigo is with @wol-fica now and me and @bingwriterxo have always had the chemistry, and she loves my dog.

[itzyffssss]

MAST3R-LIST!!!!!

Request system- OPEN

Who i write for

• Jenna Ortega

•Tara Carpenter

•ITZY

•G-IDLE

(fem! reader)

(will do a make idol or male actor if really wanted!)

(will add later down the line)

what i write

•smut

•fluff

(not really angst but sure) • angst?

WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE!!!

G!P (later down the line it will not be allowed so for right now you can ask for this!)

bdsm

edit- also! if you wish to have a anon emoji feel free to add whatever you are writing to me and then click anon and click the emoji you want (ex. -🥺)

btw go check out - @ampitrit3, @melrodrigo, and @bingwriterxo they are amazing writers and all three of them inspire me to write(well at least try😂😭)

feel free to ask any questions or ask for any requests!!!

[celiastjamesoscar]

It's from the God Of War sound track ITS SO GOOODDDD!! ITS ABOUT HOW HARSH THE CYCLES OF LIFE ARE, PARTICULARLY DURING WINTER, AND HOW, EVENTUALLY, EVERYTHING DIES A HORRIBLE DEATH DUE TO MOTHER NATURE'S CRUETLY BUT THAT THERE'S BEAUTY IN IT TOO BECAUSE THE WORLD IS JUST LIKE THAT!!

Ngl, probably Hozier. Mostly because of Like Real People Do. It's my favourite song of his (Sorry TMTC). I've still yet to listen to most of his albums, though. I'm definitely popping those on during class tomorrow. I know he released Unreal Unearth this year, and I've been meaning to give that a listen cuz he made another banger gay anthem this year, too! I have a bad habit of listening to like a few songs of an artist, forgetting they have an entire decade's worth of discography and neglecting all 5 of their other albums, and their other like 15-20 singles.

I've gotten better at it this year though. I listened through all of The Death Of Peace Of Mind by Bad Omens, and all of Take Me Back To Eden by Sleep Token. I also did it with Save Rock & Roll, American Beauty/American Psycho and some of MANIA by Fall Out Boy. I've still to finish MANIA.

Aww, I love ye too <3 you're my favourite non-discord tumblr ^-^ (and my favourite Scream community member. Don't tell Melrodrigo, Tonyspank, or Rollingsins. Shhh!)

I haven’t played God of War in a FAT minute (like 5 years) BUT THE DESCRIPTION OF THAT SONG?!? I WANT TO CRAWL AROUND INSIDE HOZIER’S MIND!!!

Hozier is such a good album and it definitely has some of my favorite songs on it. AND OMFG I ALSO HAVE THAT SAME BAD HABIT!!! LIKE WHAT DO YOU MEAN AN ARTIST HAS SEVERAL DIFFERENT ALBUMS THAT IVE NEVER HEARD OF?!?

I wish I could listen to albums all the way through, it’s going to be my downfall one day 😭

I’m 19 years old and I have no fucking idea how to work discord 😭 And omg I love Rollingsins so much 😩

[patriciacoronado]

Have a Kilig Christmas with the #AllYouNeedIsPagIbig feel good story!!!❤️🎄😍 Get to know why we get so giddy with these two onscreen!😍 A behind the scene snippet of @jodistamaria & Ian's #AYNIP poster shoot.😊 #JodiStaMaria is styled by yours truly. #JodiStaMaria #IanVeneracion #MMFF2015 #RomCom #MelRodrigo #FilmFest #CharacterStyling

[melrodrigo]

friends? p.2

Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader

Summary: A rivalry between you and Cairo has been going on for several months…what does it take for her to finally break?

Warnings: there r literally none they bicker like an old couple and cairos mean

Word Count: 2k+

A/n: helloooo i’m not sure abt this chapter but lmk what u thought, i cranked this out in its entirety last night, enjoy!

part 1

Friendship was not Cairo Sweet's strong suit. Ask her about Dickinson or Austen or Shakespeare—these were all things she could answer. But the ultimate question of friendship was not something hot on Cairo's mind.

She didn't need it, that was her take. And why would she waste time on something she didn't need?

Friends, much less a partner, was something she never saw for herself. The thought of being a housewife, living in a picture-perfect picket fence house, appalled her. The only things that mattered were her, her writing, and Yale.

So when a certain girl had entered her life, she hated it.

You.

You with your stupid face, and pretty hair, she hated you. A burning passion so intense it heated up her heart and made it race. So intense that she wanted to punch you in the face whenever you passed, only to bandage it up with feather light touches so she could punch you again harder.

At first it was nothing; she didn't have a thing to worry about. A blushing face while you stammered and fumbled around trying to give Mr. Miller an answer, she disregarded you as someone she could respect immediately.

But obviously she had caught you on a bad day, because after those first few weeks, you managed to present yourself in a less idiotic way.

You were, surprisingly smart.

Almost too smart, she pondered. It was getting in the way of her own studies. How could it be, that someone was on bar (never better) than her?

Often she found herself seething at you, arguing at every chance she had with your answers; but, you had given her the same treatment as well.

It wasn't strange for your classes to end in heated debate, both sides failing to yield. It bothered her greatly. She went back home and read more than she'd ever read before, studied just a few minutes longer because she could feel you taunting her.

"Sweet." You nodded, as she pushed open the doors to Millers class. You'd made it a habit to arrive early, leaving only you and her for a good thirty minutes before everyone else arrived.

It was infuriating. To have you so close, open, ready to harm, yet she could do nothing. She'd been having a particularly grueling week. Her parents had just come back from Brazil; and, always seemed to be ready to go at her throat. Gone were her lonely but comforting nights on her bed, candle-lit. Now it was just fights and condescending jabs.

"What did you get on the paper?" Your voice piped up, breaking her from her train of thought. You were referring to the paper Mr.Miller had given back last week, one that counted for forty percent of the grade.

She felt a swell of pride. Scores were something she could argue about. This would take off the stress she'd been building.

"99." She smirked, cocking her head to the side.

You whistled approval, nodding adamantly. Even though there was nothing to suggest so, she could swear she felt condescension in your tone.

She was good at picking out stuff like that. The roll of someone's tongue, the way they smack their lips—it all meant something to her.

She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. "What did you get?" She asked, brows furrowed.

You didn't say anything, simply holding up a finger and mouthing 'one hundo' and watched as disbelief took over her features.

"You're fucking lying." She seethed. Her good mood had suddenly disappeared just as fast as it had appeared.

You spun around in your seat, stupid smile on your face. God, she wanted to jump at you and claw it off.

"Hey, hey, it's okay to be mad. You can't be the best at everything." You told her, hands behind your head.She gripped the desk harder, knuckles turning a faint white.

She stood up, walking over to your desk."You little shi-"

"Good morning, the both of you!" Mr.Miller interrupted, cheery smile. His enthusiasm radiated off his body like rays radiated from the sun. He stopped short when he saw Cairo stalking close to you, a clear pout on her face.

"What are you doing?" He asked, question directed towards her, voice sickly sweet. He had grown fond of Cairo since the beginning of the term; she was his favorite student.

"I'd like her to be removed from the class. Can't you do that Mr.Miller?" She avoided his question, tilting her face at an angle where her chocolate colored eyes shone bright.

His white brows furrowed, not quite comprehending. "You mean," He started, "right now...?"

Bless him, he had no clue how manipulative Cairo was.

She doesn't let up, doesn't let her disappointment show. You notice it in the slight clench of her jaw--she's annoyed.

"I meant for the rest of the term, I can't stand being in the same class as her." She emphasized her words with a glare in your direction. You send her a sweet smile back.

"Please, flattery will get you nowhere." You winked, smile turning into a real one when you see her get visibly agitated.

"Please, girls. Let's be civil here all right?" Mr.Miller pipes up, trying to stand in between Cairo and you. It does nothing to lessen the tension in the air.

He turns slightly to Cairo, voice firm. "And no...I won't kick Y/N out."

The childish part of you desperately wants to fist pump the air; but, the more serious side of you decides maybe you shouldn't do that in the company of your arch nemesis.

Class turns weird fast. Cairo—normally quick and adamant—stays quiet, seemingly distracted by the simplest of things: a bird singing softly from a window, the great big forests where her house stood, the sound of your feet continuing to scrape against the carpet.

It irks you a little. It has you not listening in class, wanting to focus on the girl in front of you.

You almost don't hear it when Miller announces that you'll be working in pairs for the midterm project, preoccupied with her bobbling head, moving as if she were listening to some imaginary music.

"You will not be able to pick your own partner, that's already been done for...by me." He adds, after hearing the onslaught of voices from the students. It's clear he's not changing his mind.

"Alright. When I call your names, go sit with your pair and discuss how you'll do the assignment. Olivia, Taylor." He calls out the first pair, going down (what seems like) an endless list of names, never quite getting to yours.

You watch as countless people move around, silently looking out for who hasn't been called yet. You needed to get a good grade on this, and a lazy partner was going to be a nightmare.

You strain your ears to hear Mr.Miller over the commotion of students moving, but when you turn to squint at him you're surprised to see he's already looking at you.

A sinking feeling eats your entire being whole as you watch his mouth move. He points his finger at you, then someone in front of you.

Cairo Sweet.

Fuck.

Even though you loved to tease her, you did not need to have Cairo Sweet as your partner. She was likely to ruin you before you even got to starting the thing.

You don't make the first move to get up, instead you sit dumbly in your chair, bracing yourself.

Your peace is disrupted by a huff from above you. There she is.

"Move over. I need a seat." She says, something in her voice making you oblige. She pulls over an extra chair and sits by the other end of the table.

"You can come closer ya know." You say, unsure of how friendly to be. You'd only ever really spoke with her from a distance, a comfortable distance. Now that she's up in your personal space you feel ike you're going to suffocate.

She ignores you, pursing her lips as she listens to Miller explain the project.

You inch your chair closer, prepared to make a sly jab at the way she's being a teachers pet, but her stare—which has now been redirected on you—stops you in your tracks. She looks scary.

Lips downturned, nostrils flaring, you're a bit taken aback.

"Okay jeez. You don't have to be such an ass about it." You mumble, distancing yourself a great deal further than you already were. The mood, if it weren't enough already, turns more sour.

She ignores your suggestions and remarks on how to do the project, scribbling something down on to her notepad every now and then.

"Earth to you, Sweet. Are you listening to me?" You press, starting to feel those tendrils of annoyance grabbing you. It was one thing to be an ass, but to put her own feelings above doing good work was low, even for her.

Especially for her, you think.

"Do you ever shut up?" She growls, biting her cheeks so hard you could see the indent it was making on the outside.

"Okayyy...someone's obviously going through something, but can we just-" You gesture to the sheet of paper on the table, you haven't even been allowed to look at what she's written yet.

"I am NOT going through something." She says again, voice cracking. The sound brings forth a peculiar reaction in you, your mouth hanging open. Her eyes look...watery.

Before you can utter a word she's getting up and storming out the classroom, making heads turn left and right at the loud noise.

"Um...I'll be right back too." You say, sending Mr.Miller a cheeky smile and a wink, hoping that'll lessen his curiousity enough to not come out after the two of you.

You push open the doors, call Cairos' name a couple times.

You eventually find her outside, back pressed against the brick wall. She's lighting up a cigarette.

Her body language looks more calm now, but you're not sure what to do. You shuffle on your feet, twiddling your thumbs.

"Sorry I did that." She speaks, not turning to look at you. It startles you a bit, you hadn't realized she saw you.

"Cairo Sweet saying sorry? I must be dreaming." You try, although you're not smiling and she doesn't laugh. Humor seems to be sucked away in this little bubble belonging to only the two of you.

You move a little closer, then even closer when Cairo doesn't object. Even though you did hate her to the bone, you wanted to make sure she was okay.

"Are you...alright?" You ask softly, watching her face for an answer. She seems to be deep in thought.

She takes a swing from her cigarette and blows. "I don't like you." Is what she says.

The ice breaks. You no longer feel like you're supposed to pity her. This was Cairo Sweet, her heart was made of coal.

"Yeah I think we established that. Anything else?" You sigh, leaning back so you're also pressed up against the wall.

She turns to you, and for the first time, she doesn't seem very mad.

"I don't like you." She says again, moving closer. It's in your natural instinct to step back, why was she being so weird? Was she going to hurt you?

She grips your shoulder lightly, enough for you to get the message to stay still.

"I don't  like you." Cairo mutters for the third time, eyes piercing into yours. She seems to be speaking a little lower, a little raspier than normal. Cogs seem to be turning in her head, debating and debating and debating.

Debating on what you can't be certain.

"I get it, you don't like me. So what?" You mummur, voice lower than normal. The proximity is making your mind feel a little clouded.

You try not to let your gaze drift down to her lips, but when there's nothing around to distract yourself with, they do.

Her freckles, the ones that litter her face. You get the disgusting urge to touch them.

"So...don't get the wrong idea." She says before taking your lips in a kiss.

It takes you a second to comprehend what's really happening. You stand frigid, mouth parting to gasp. You're gasp is swallowed by her own lips, soft and supple.

Once Cairo feels that you aren't responding, she pulls away, frightened look on her face. Pink lips downturned, her cheeks a rosy red. You don't have time to process what the right move is. For now, you don't need Cairo thinking you didn't like whatever that was.

You reach for her neck, pull her in for a second kiss. It's somehow better than the first. She responds quick, hands wandering to cup your face, then down to circle your waist, then up to tangle in your hair—like she's changing her own mind too quick.

You let her take the lead, pressing you into the wall with a strength you didn't know she possessed.

You're too lost in it all, the smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her teeth scraping your lips, biting down only the slightest, her fingers burning traces wherever they go.

"Sweet." You breathe, coming out more like a soft moan than you would've liked.

She breaks apart from you, a wild mess. You think she's never looked prettier, hair everywhere, lips torn from your heated kisses.

Her eyes are soft until they flash and something else takes over. It's as if your voice had brought her back to life.

"I don't like you." She snarls, and promptly turns on her heels, just a slight increase in speed than her normal strut.

You're left breathless, staring out into the green plains. Mind and heart racing, you're not sure which organ you should listen to.

The implication of what you did hits you like a freight train. You groan and press your hands to your head, willing and willing and willing for a solution to come out of it.

Not to anyones surprise, nothing comes. A magic fairy doesn't tell you what to do, and you're still standing behind school panting.

"Oh god."

[wesstars]

YASSSS #weslore

work 👎👎👎👎

i think i’m going to go watch the talk with my friends after (it’s a horror movie) ((absolutely hate horror movies)) unless bbg jenna is in them ofc

weslore 😭😭 that’s funny

why have I not heard of that, is it new ? I usually don’t watch horror and I do sometimes get freaked out but for jenna it’s worth it ofc

[crazyoffher]

oh you’ve MISSED stuff

a LOT it seems 😞

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 11

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

Summary: It’s time for you to face Ghostface head on.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Pretty gnarly violence, Tara being protective and kinda batshit crazy, betrayals left and right

A/N: lol

Shit.

When you open your eyes and see nothing but a hot blinding light, you think you might've died and gone to heaven.

"God?" You whisper, blinking slowly.

It was in fact, not god, you find out once your eyes properly adjust.

You're stuck in a tiny compartment; so small you think you might suffocate. The walls are painted a shade of obsidian black that makes you feel like you're stuck in a black hole. Only one single flickering lightbulb grants you sight.

Your arms are sore; so sore, and it only intensifies when you try and pull them up from the weird position they're in.

Huh, I can't move my arms.

You tug at the rope-like fabric of material that's holding your hands together. It doesn't budge in the slightest. Panic rises like wildfire in you.

You breathe deep. Try to gather your wits and make sense of anything that is possibly going on.

"Get it together." You remind yourself.

You blink once.

Feeling a little more clear, you realize that you're strapped tight to a chair, back pressed uncomfortably close to the ridges.

Where am I?

There's no time to find the answer to that question since the wall is moving- oh it's a door-, and Ghostface appears right in front of you, smiling.

Well, you don't really know if he's smiling. But the way he's moving, all confident and cocky, makes you think you're not too far off.

It hits you all at once. Now that you're fully conscious, you can feel everything.

One inhale and your lungs feel like they're on fire. Breathing is hard.

You groan, the pain all too overwhelming for your brain to work properly. It would be embarrassing how loud you were if you cared in the least.

You can only seem to think of one thing.

"Where is she?" You ask, with all the confidence of someone in the position of interrogating Ghostface.

Tara. God, what did they do to Tara?

“Of course, your first words are about her." Ghostface spits, still using that goddamned voice modulator.

“Where is she?” You spit, trying your very best to look intimidating.

It's not very convincing when you're heaving and gasping like a fish out of water.

"Would you believe me if I said she was already dead?" Ghostface drawls, tracing their knife along your jawline, pressing just enough for you to feel it.

You scoff.

"Right...you'd kill one of your beloved 'main characters' before the finale." You say, sure you've read him to filth.

"But, this is the ending. Don't you see?" He continues to tease, unbothered by your last comment.

You huff, but you feel your heart picking up speed slightly.

What if...he was telling the truth?

A shrill scream sounds throughout the theater, and you feel your blood run cold as you recognize exactly who it is.

"Tara." You breathe, half terrified and half relieved she's still alive.

"Tara!" You yell, as loud as your lungs are willing to let you.

Tara doesn't reply. What you do get is a smack to the head and an elbow to the jaw.

"Be quiet." Ghostface hisses, and you can almost swear he sounds sort of scared.

"Be quiet or I'm going to get my ass whooped." He mumbles, and you pull back as far as you can, eyebrows raised.

You bite back the need to tell him you definitely don't care if he gets in trouble or not, not wanting to get slapped in the face a billion more times.

"Come on." He grumbles, gripping the back of the chair and lifting it up swiftly.

The feeling of your feet dangling off the chair reminds you of one of your favorite memories.

"Mint ice cream sucks," Tara tells you definitively.

You squint your eyebrows at her and bring up a hand to your heart like she's just stabbed you.

She's sitting with her ice cream in hand, a good distance away from you. You guys peer down at all the university students walking around, now the size of ants; trying to point out people you guys recognize.

It was your own little secret spot. Tara could never really go study outside uni, since her sister was always up her ass about traveling unknown spaces. You never asked her why, pure sister protectiveness, you guessed.

A couple of weeks into knowing Tara, she'd brought you up to this mini garden haven of hers, all shy and smiley.

She's sitting now and she's looking so pretty with her big brown eyes and freckles out for display. They shine bright today, sunshine illuminating her face and making everything just pop the slightest bit more.

You get a wicked idea, and before you can stop yourself, scoot yourself closer and place your arm around her.

Tara cocks an eyebrow at you, but before she can speak a word, you start tickling her sides.

"Stop!" Tara squeals. Her face turning a bright pink comically fast.

You're careful not to tickle her too hard, or else you think she might just slide off the ledge and fall right here.

You're close now, closer than you should be. Tension swims in the air. You lean down to whisper into her ear.

"That's what you get for saying mint sucks." You huff, smirking a little as she shudders from the feeling of your breath fanning her ear.

When you pull back and look into her eyes, you're surprised to see them wide and dilated. She has a weird expression her face, like she's fighting something in herself.

You lean in slowly, stuck in a trace with the way she's looking at you.

She grips your shirt and pulls you in further, your noses brushing. And then suddenly, like she's just snapped out of her daze, she sits up abruptly.

She laughs nervously, letting go of your shirt.

"I think Sam's calling me. I'll see you tomorrow. Same time?" She's saying, but she's not even giving you a second to answer before she's sprinting away.

Despite the sort of failed kiss, you chuckle a little. You feel the blush creep up to the tips of your ears.

The day your crush on Tara Carpenter officially started.

It's a bad time to start daydreaming, but you figure if you're going to die right now, it wouldn't be so bad to think of the love of your life while you go.

The sound of Tara's voice brings you back to life.

"YN!" She gasps, from somewhere behind you. You're still getting dragged, hair stuck to your forehead, eyes blurred.

You try your best to blink everything back to focus.

She's standing on the platform slightly below you, beside Sam, looking relieved. There's a brick in her hand.

You try and say her name but all that comes out is a painful groan. Everything feels heavy. Your shirt is painted red where your stomach wound is, and you figure you must've ripped the stitches.

There's another Ghostface beside you, the two of them bracketing you on either side.

Not that you would have the energy to up and escape anyway.

"Tara..." Sam warns, eyeing her sister like she knows what she's about to do.

Tara rushes forward, ignoring Sam's protest, trying to get to you. To hold you in her arms, to press her hands against your wound, to kiss it better; to do anything.

The Ghostface to your right swings their knife as soon as she comes into the vicinity, and slices the skin above Tara's collarbone easily. She gasps from the jab. Red liquid seeps out immediately.

You feel the Ghostface to your left tense, a mixture of a gasp and a yell stuck together.

"Anika wait-!" The Ghostface is saying, the name slipping out as easy as second nature.

Everybody stills.

It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The other Ghostface whirls around, shoulders tight.

Sam tugs Tara back quietly, looking between the two Ghostfaces. Your head is swimming.

"What did you say?" Ghostface- supposedly Anika, says.

"What the fuck." You manage to spit out, but it goes unheard, everyone being laser-focused on the scene unfolding right in front of them.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry I didn't mean to say that. It's just, I thought you were going to kill Tara. I couldn't let you do that." The other Ghostface reasons, albeit unconvincingly. He stumbles over his words, in a tone that's all too familiar to you.

"Ethan?" You hesitate, tears brimming in your eyes.

The Ghostface that's hovering above you drops down to your ear level, whispering softly.

"Well, aren't you just a smart little thing?" And promptly slides off that wretched Ghostface mask, and even though you knew, you have to gasp at who you see.

Anika.

Sweet sweet Anika.

"Just take it off. It's not like they don't already know." Anika tells Ethan, an order more than anything.

You tilt your head just enough to see Ethan take off his mask, grinning nervously.

"What the fuck?" You hear Tara say, but it sounds so far away.

"But, but how-" Sam starts, pointing at Ethan, her face as pale as a ghost.

He looks good, healthy. More alive than you've ever seen him. There's a glint in his eye you've never seen before.

"I'm alive. Surprise!" He grins, flashing the four of you a pearly white smile.

I must be dreaming.

You squeeze your eyes shut. He's still standing there when you open them again. Shit.

"But I watched you die, I felt the blood. You-you died in my arms. I saw the ambulance pick you up." You splutter, voice cracking unevenly.

"You know...some fake blood and a couple of acting classes can do wonders. You guys really are not good at picking up on hints." Anika sing songs, waving her dagger in the air.

"Seriously...we even had to send you a note." She continues, scrunching her nose in disgust.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you so hell-bent on destroying us?" Sam asks, fire in her eyes. She looks scary. Messing with Sam was one thing, but messing with her sister? You have a feeling they'll be dead in minutes.

Anika sighs dramatically, putting a hand up to her chin and feigning thought.

"Gosh. Where do I even start? Let's set the scene: it's 1996. There's been two mysterious murders in the small town of Woodsboro, leaving everyone in fright." She recounts, words slipping out of her mouth with ease like she's rehearsed them a million times.

Sam rolls her eyes, fed up with this godforsaken story that seems to follow her anywhere.

"Akio Kayoko however, lives happily, because finally his two bullies Billy and Stu aren't on his ass anymore. They have more important things to worry about."

Sam cuts in before Anika goes any further.

"Are you fucking kidding me? This is all because what, your dad couldn't handle a couple wedgies? Are you a little daddy's girl?" She says, fed up.

Anika shoots her an icy glare, but continues.

"You don't even know what you're talking about." Anika tells her, voice lowering to soft and almost sorrowful.

"Poor dad, he just had to go to that party. Do you know what happens to a person when they go through something traumatic? It changes them. He came out the only bystander that survived, but not without a scarred face and a scarred soul to show for it." She murmurs. She turns suddenly, a new pep in her mannerisms.

"Your father," she points at Sam accusingly, "and your father," she points her knife at you, "fucked my dad up royally. He got diagnosed with severe depression and bipolar disorder from it. And for what?" She seethes.

"Your guys' fathers are just racist assholes. You deserve everything that's coming to you, don't you even doubt it for a second!" She sneers, with so much venom and power that you can't help but agree.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, try to explain that you aren't your dad, but Anika beats you to it.

"Did you know he left me? I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was 6." She tells you, voice getting softer. Your heart tugs for her.

She straightens up, as if just realizing where she was, and her icy facade once again builds up.

"Anywho, motive enough for you Sam?" She tilts her head up, eyes bright.

Sam stands scarily still, but you can see the concern swimming in her eyes.

Ethan's standing wide-eyed like this is all new information to him.

"It really wasn't that hard getting you two to meet. All I had to do was invite Tara to that party and just give YN a little bump so you two would talk." Anika continues, and you furrow your eyebrows. Party? You met Tara at a party?

Your eyes dart to Tara and she's looking at you a little solemnly, and suddenly it hits you like a truck. Memories that have never been unlocked before replay in your mind now. The angel from that party.

That was Tara.

"After that, everything just fell into place. You guys are one pathetic predictable group of people." Ethan pipes up.

"The friendship, the night you got stabbed, it was all planned. I mean, why do you think I took you back to the apartment? For Anika to "stitch you up?" He asks excitedly, looking at Anika for approval to speak further. She gives him an annoyed nod.

"And guess what the best part is," He giggled midway, but gains his composure again. "Every time she came to fix you up, she actually poisoned the wound. Never too much that you would notice- but enough to guarantee your death today. It's infected." He cheers, like he hasn't just told you you're going to die.

"Jesus, you never told me how bad it was," Tara says, making your eyes dart back to hers, trying to catch her gaze to inadvertently say your sorry, but she doesn't meet your eyes.

"I didn't want you to worry." You sigh.

Ethan makes a noise of disgust. He looks at you with scrunched eyebrows, a little crinkle of his nose betraying his chill facade. His gaze shifts to Tara, and you can't help but notice his voice move just a pitch higher.

"Poor Tara. Caught in this sick twisted web between your sister and your girlfriend. You didn't even do anything wrong right, baby? Don't worry...nothing's going to happen to you. I've made sure of that." He tells her, and it hits you all at once.

"Baby? What are you talking about? " Tara asks, cocking her head to the side.

"I love you, Tara. I did all of this just for you. When the both of them are dead, you and I can get together. Finally." He says, between deep breaths.

You don't know how you never saw it before. Memories of the prior weeks flash in front of your eyes.

His heart eyes for your girlfriend every time the group would have a movie night and you two would cuddle, the weird lingering around the both of you whenever you'd go out.

You just figured he really liked your company.

"You're out of your mind you sick fuck. Tara would never date you, even if you were the last person on earth." Is what Sam says, and despite the consequences of what's sure to come, your heart sings.

Last person on earth.

Ethan stutters, like he never thought of the possibility that she would reject him. You see tears forming immediately, frown apparent. He's trying to keep it together- you can tell.

He leans back slightly, dejected. His eyes cloud with something you can only describe as hatred, and for a scary moment, you think he seriously might jump at Tara.

However, he doesn't get the time to act on his thoughts, because in less than a blink of an eye Anika's moving over and stabbing him in the neck.

"Agh!" He grunts. A trickle of blood runs down the side of his mouth, then it bursts. So, so much thick crimson liquid gurgles out.

Anika stands behind him, sliding her knife out his back, wiping the blood clean.

"Gosh, what a bore he was, right? True love this true love that. I couldn't listen to that shit any longer." She gags, leaning over to stick her tongue out at Ethan's lifeless face. She stabs him again in the jaw for good measure.

She looks back at the three of you, who are clearly aghast.

"Gotta make sure he's dead right?" She smiles, and it finally gets through to you that she's lost it. Whoever you thought you knew, that person never existed.

No one answers her as she stands up.

You turn stoney-faced as you look up at her. "So what's the plan Anika? How are you gonna get away with this?"

She turns around, rolling her eyes. Before you know it, she's advancing towards you, knife raised. She jabs lightly at your wound. Teases her knife against your skin. You really wish people would stop picking that specific part to hurt you.

"Do we really need to go over this again? Kill you guys blah blah blah, find Mindy and kill her, say that you and Sam went crazy like their fathers. Really, it's not hard to understand." Anika continues, shuffling her feet as she speaks like she's bored.

Time is ticking before she snaps and just decides to kill you, you know it. Not to mention the fact that you were actively dying.

"What do you really want from us? Just name your price now, and we'll- we'll get it. Just let her go." Tara splutters, almost begging.

Anika stomps her feet with the energy of a three year olds tantrum, "I want revenge! Have I not made that clear enough?" she basically yells.

Sam moves forward slowly, like a wildlife expert moving towards a wild beast.

"Look I'm sure we can come to an agreement about something-" She's saying, but Anika rolls her eyes once again and advances lazily towards you.

Nothing happens in slo-mo like the movies, you can barely register her face before she's plunging the dagger deep into the other side of your lower stomach. You can feel it pierce it's way through your whole body.

You hear a scream but it sounds a million miles away. You gag, moving your head to the side to try and puke, but nothing comes out. You try to groan in frustration but it makes your skin sting everywhere that you stop. You just stop for a moment.

Tara's fully sobbing now, you think. You can't really tell.

All hell breaks loose. Sam breaks out into a sprint at Anika, effectively knocking her down till both of them are tumbling on the floor.

You see flashes of black and gray and blood spurting from someone.

"Stay with me." You hear someone say, and try with everything in you to blink back everything into focus. It's Tara.

Her mascara is everywhere. Black stripes of tears and makeup streak down her pretty face, and you feel the urge even now to bring your hand up and wipe the tears away.

You try and tell her to stop crying but the words die in your mouth. What feels like fire engulfs your lungs.

"Stay with me. I'll be right back." She whispers, pressing a kiss to your chapped lips.

You search your mind desperately for a way out of this mess, a solution, but everything goes blank. Your ears ring, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pain.

With everything you have in you, you squeeze Tara's hand one last time, and tell her to take the knife currently lodged in you out.

Tara's eyes darken, the most cloudy you've ever seen them.

"No, no. I couldn't do that." She says, another round of tears falling down her cheeks. She shakes her head adamantly, but you shush her.

"Please. For me." You manage to get out, then with the utmost acceptance, you let yourself go.

Tara doesn't remember much of what happened after that. She remembers sobbing, she remembers someone screaming, but she can't be too sure if it's her or someone else. She remembers the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip on her hand, and she remembers seeing red.

With no where else to channel her emotions, and with your words engraved in her mind, she turns on Anika.

She hurries over to where she's still wrestling with Sam, expression tight, and grabs the first thing she can find in this shithole of a theater.

Your father's wooden box.

She remembers faintly telling Sam to fuck off, and smashing the box over Anika's head. Then picking it up and doing the same thing again. And again, and again. She remembers taking the heel of her shoes and smashing it to Anika's nose, breaking it in one clean hit.

She remembers going back to you, your white as paper skin, and yanking the knife out of you.

And the final thing she remembers is screaming at Anika while she buries the knife in and out of the girl’s body, everywhere, again and again.

[wesstars]

i have horrible eyesight and i keep seeing ur pfp as that one scene from tasm where andrew garfield gets back home really beat up

HAHAHAHA I should change it to that just for you