To say you were craving sugar was an understatement. You had just finished raiding your kitchen and when you came up empty handed in your search for sweets you could’ve nearly broken down into tears. You were making your way into the living room with a pout on your face when you saw it.
“Ah my love, you wanna come cuddle on tha couch?” You weren’t really listening to him, you were more focused on the pint of ice cream that Harry had between his hands. You quickly plopped down next to him making him laugh as you snuggled up closer to him.
“Harry where did you get that?” He looked down at the ice cream in his hands as you started to reach for the spoon he was currently not using. He quickly moved the sweet treat out of your reach making your mouth once again fall into a pout.
“Oh no ya don’t! Last time I shared my ice cream with you I got left with all the minty bits and all the chocolate was gone!” You just rolled your eyes as you reached over him in attempt to grab the ice cream from his outstretched arm.
“Don’t be so dramatic Harry, I just want a bite.” You heard Harry laugh as you were now practically in his lap trying to get the ice cream from his hand. You let out an annoyed sigh as you reached up one more time in efforts to grab the container that held the sweet treat you were craving so badly.
“Psh, a bite my love is one spoonful.” He slowly lowered his arm as his free one wrapped around your waist and pulled you down onto his lap. “But your version of a bite means that in a matter of minutes my ice cream will be half gone.” You rolled your eyes as you turned yourself around so your back was against his chest.
“Well when I like something I just can’t help myself.” You stated causing Harry to laugh lightly as his arm wrapped tighter around your waist. “Can I please just have a bite Harry, I’ve been craving sweets.” You turned your head as you gave him your sweetest smile making him roll his eyes.
“Fine,” you couldn’t help but giggle in delight as Harry handed you the ice cream. “One bite.” He added as you turned your attention to the pint of ice cream that was now in your hands. You quickly crossed your legs while still sitting in Harry’s lap, Harry wrapped his other arm around your waist giving you a light squeeze as he placed a sweet kiss to your neck.
“Not now Harry,” you felt him smile against your skin. “I’m trying to eat.” You felt him laugh against your neck causing you to squirm as his breath hit your skin.
“Oh there is more ice cream in the freezer my love,” your eyes widened as his words hit your ears. “I just hid it from you.” You almost dropped the spoon that was in your hand, you snapped your head to the side so you could look at him.
“You hid it from me?” Your tone was playful but Harry knew by the way your eyebrows were so close together that you were slightly annoyed. “Why would you hide my ice cream? You know how much I love it.” Harry couldn’t help but just roll his eyes at you as you placed another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.
Harry knew what you were doing, he wasn’t new to your games. He knew this was how you were trying to distract him so you could finish off his treat before he had a chance to eat anymore of it. Harry quickly just placed a sweet kiss to your cheek as you turned your attention to the television.
“Pretty woman,” he whispered in your ear. “One of our favorites.” He brought you closer to him as he twisted your bodies to he was now leaned against the armrest of the couch and you could spread your legs out between his.
“You have good taste in ice cream,” you stated as you placed the now empty container on the floor next to the couch, Harry just shook his head when he saw you lick the spoon before putting inside the container as well. “And in movies, I’m one lucky girl.” You added as you snuggled into Harry a bit more resting your head on his chest as his arms found their way to your middle.
“Yes one lucky girl indeed.” You felt him kiss the top of your head leaving his lips there for a moment. You loved having cuddles on the couch with Harry while the two of you watched a movie, you loved it even more when it involved ice cream.
(banner creds to the marvelous @justgryffinpuffthings !)
Hi everyone! Recently I saw a post by @lilyevians about how there should be a penpal network of some kind, and I’ve taken it upon myself to try to put one together. This is my first attempt at a network, so please be patient and bear with me!
WHAT IS THE PENPAL NET?
thepenpalnet is a safe space to share anything and everything you want. You can tag your posts #thepenpalnet and your post will be reblogged onto the network page!
You’ll be assigned a “penpal,” whom you can tag in your edits, poetry, etc, and who will tag you in theirs. Your penpal is also an internet friend to chat with whenever. (I know making friends on the internet can be nerve-wracking or awkward sometimes, and this gives you an excuse to make a new friend.)
(Also, I might create a discord/groupme chat eventually!)
Here’s what you have to do:
- mbf the network ( @thepenpalnet ) and me, the admin ( @whizardwheezes )
- track the tag #thepenpalnet
- reblog this post (likes don’t count, sorry)
- fill out the form at this post: https://thepenpalnet.tumblr.com/post/159423164862/entry-form (please answer all the questions; the more you answer, the better I can pair you with a suitable penpal!)
- send the network ✨ with the url you entered with
- be patient! Results will come, and most people will be accepted to the network :)
- this post must get at least 29 reblogs so that I have enough people to pair up!
Entries will close on April 30th! (I might reopen them again after that)
“Are you going to be nicer to me today?” You asked, chewing
the inside of your lip.
Loki’s attention was fixated in its usual direction. His
mind had been racing since the day prior. After his offish comment, you’d
refused to speak to him for the remainder of the night, leaving early in the
morning the next day. It was a surprise that you’d even returned. Why exactly
were you so intent on accompanying him? He was hardly polite to you. If he
wasn’t in such a sour mood, Loki might have appreciated your loyalty. Forgiveness
was not a trait he was accustomed to encountering – neither in himself or
Just for today though, he thought. Just for today, I’ll
forgive myself and then maybe she will.
“What of it? What if I decide I shall not watch my tongue?”
“Then I’ll eat this picnic by myself on the journey home.”
William Pratt, Captain Peroxide, Blondie Bear, William the Bloody, The Slayer of Slayers, Spike: The character everyone hates to love, and loves to hate.
Spike is my favorite male character (Buffy Summers being my all time favorite, but I’ve already written like 50 posts on that, so). I used to call him trash, I used to love him apologetically and shamefully. But the more time I had with my thoughts, and the less time I spent around other peoples opinions, I realized how much I actually love him. And while I’ve been unapologetic about it for a while now, I would like to make it crystal clear exactly how great I think Spike is.
The “story of Spike” is a very feminist one, and being a raging feminist myself this is a topic of great importance. It’s also a topic that can lead to heated arguments, since so many disagree on what “feminist storytelling” actually is. When in reality it comes in a huge spectrum, with one kind not canceling out another. The “story of Spike” is simply one particular flavor of it, not more right or wrong than any other - just different. It’s also a very thought provoking (and anger inducing) one, which in my eyes is even better. So why is it feminist?
Spike’s a metaphor for a meninist turned feminist ally. It’s a long and messy road of making a decent, functional person, out of a misogynistic, sociopath.
The rape attempt is treated as the worst thing you could possibly do. So vile that it makes even a soulless, murderous, monster, question his ways.
He takes on the stereotypical role of “naive, love-sick, secret mistress”, which is almost exclusively reserved for female characters in entertainment.
The content is very self aware of his flaws, making it clear that his behavior is unacceptable.
Also, I’ve never seen such a drastic, yet organic, character development.
Spike would take baby steps in the right direction, then huge strides in the wrong one, getting beat down, built up, and torn back down all over again. And it all made it feel so very authentic. He didn’t better himself on a steady curve - he was flying all over the chart, making massive mistakes on his way, which took the viewers on a very intense emotional roller coaster of not knowing whether to hate or love him half the time. Other times hating him with such sheer intensity that you just knew it was beyond repair, then growing to love him again against all odds, crying rivers when he sacrificed himself in Chosen.
There are many more reasons why I find this character so wonderful, but to keep this post relatively short and to the point, I’d like to conclude with this:
The character “Spike” is art. Everyone wont appreciate him, everyone will interpret him and his story their own way. But the vast array of raw emotions he evoke in so many of us, the soul searching and questioning he forces us to do, is what makes him not only art - but a masterpiece, worthy of going down in history as more than just your “problematic fave”.
Imagine you and Chris going to your best friends’ wedding weekend. (Part D)
A/N: Part 4D 🎉 🎊 You can read the related mini-series and the previous parts here: (Mini-series - Masterlist; Mini-series Spin-off: ‘Unexpected Reader’, ‘Little Ways Away’, ‘She Said Yes’, ‘Miss Graduate’, ‘Something Blue’, ‘Something New’ - Masterlist; ‘Baby Steps’: Part 1/Part 2/Part 3A/3B/Part 4A/4B/4C)
You and Chris shared wide grins as you stood up on the alter with the bride and groom; you were on Ava’s side and Chris was on Sebastian’s. Chris was happy for them, but you- you were ecstatic. You had hoped it would end up here, but you had no idea it would when you first brought them together by leaving your phone with Sebastian while FaceTiming Ava.
On paper, they were perfect for each other; you and Chris had agreed on that. When you first found out that Sebastian had shown some interest in Ava, you immediately listed all their similarities as well as the ways they would’ve made a perfect couple. You then showed that list to Chris while you devised a plan to get them together, only to have him remind you that compatibility wasn’t the only factor that determined a successful relationship- especially one with a celebrity. Other than needing chemistry and having good timing, it was a lot of work, tolerance, compromise, and perseverance. “You of all people should know that, Y/N,” was the sentence that left you speechless, because he was right. You could only do so much, it was going to be up to them if they wanted things to last. Now as you stood up there, you realized they’d wanted it as much as you wanted it for them.
“We are all gathered here today to celebrate the love that Sebastian Stan and Ava Shay have for each other. We will join them as they make a lifelong commitment to each other, to witness as they take the next big step in their lives.” Their celebrant began, and Sebastian and Ava smiled at each other. “The idea of true love has been argued against time and time again, and the thought of soulmates has presented itself as fictitious. But as I stand before Sebastian and Ava, it becomes clear to me that skepticism does not obstruct the unforeseeable, but omnipotent forces the universe provides for true love and soulmates. We can deny and argue as much as we want, but we have to admit that these two wonderful people were brought together today because they were meant to be.”
“That, and my best friend wrote fan fiction incredible enough to make Chris Evans fall in-love with her,” Ava quipped, glancing back at you while Sebastian glanced back at Chris; laughter erupted, and you shook your head, biting back your smile. “Beat you to it, didn’t I, Evans?” Ava smirked at Chris and he laughed, nodding.
“It has been a journey for Sebastian and Ava, one that has been exciting and fulfilling but not one that has always been smooth sailing.” Sebastian and Ava bit back their smiles, shooting each other sheepish looks that brought back memories of their biggest fights. “We have all experienced the saying “if you want it, you have to work for it” at some point in our life. Even if two people are perfect for each other, relationships are something you have to nurture if you want it to become fruitful. That is exactly what Sebastian and Ava did, they worked at their relationship. They cared for it, nourished it with love and patience, and preserved it with tolerance and perseverance. They made it work which is why we’re all here today, to support them and be proud of them as they exchange their vows and become husband and wife. I believe you wrote your own vows?“ He asked, earning nods from Sebastian and Ava.
"Ladies first?” Sebastian offered, trying not to laugh at Ava’s eye roll. “What?”
“Ever the gentleman, Sebastian,” Ava quipped then smiled when Sebastian chuckled. “Okay,” she took a deep breath. “Sebastian.” She tried not to laugh as she said the next sentence, and you did too because you’d worked on it together. “As a proud fan girl of yours and Chris’, I know what it’s like to love someone.” Sebastian and Chris stifled their laughter whereas their wedding guests burst out laughing. “But I never truly understood what love was until I met you. You showed me the true meaning of what it is to love someone, and be loved in return. You are everything to me- my love, my heart, my soul, my sun, moon, and stars. I’ve gotten to a point in my life where I can’t imagine living a day without you, Sebastian. I am so proud of you- who you are, who you’ve become, and all the challenges you’ve faced and overcame.”
“Dammit,” Sebastian chuckled, tilting his head back slightly to hold the tears he had in his eyes. Ava laughed softly and squeezed his hands before pulling one hand from his briefly to brush a tear that had escaped despite his attempts to prevent it to. “Don’t worry, I’m going to make you cry too.” Ava nodded in acknowledgement, smiling as she continued.
“I promise to believe in you, the person you will further become, and the couple we will be together. I promise you will always have me by your side. With my whole heart, I take you as my husband, acknowledging and accepting your weaknesses and strengths, as you do mine.” You and Chris shared another smile as you watched your best friends tie the knot. “I promise to be faithful and supportive and to always make our family’s love and happiness my priority. I will be yours in plenty and in want, in sickness and in health, in failure and in triumph. I will dream with you, celebrate with you and walk beside you through whatever our life together brings. You are my person- my love and my life, today and always. I’m with you till the end of time, or as Bucky Barnes would say- till the end of the line.” Ava grinned at Sebastian and he shook his head, smiling. “I love you, Sebastian Stan, or as you would say in Romanian, te iubesc.”
As soon as Ava said ‘I love you’ in Romanian, Sebastian’s vision became even more blurry than it had been seconds before. He spoke to her in Romanian quite often because he knew she enjoyed hearing him speak his native language, just like he enjoyed hearing her speak in her native language: Persian. But she’d never repeated anything he said in Romanian back to him before, nor did she ask him to teach her which was why this came as a complete surprise to him. It definitely got him wondering if she only learnt and memorized that phrase, or if she’d learnt and memorized more. She got the pronunciation and accent down which was always the hardest part of learning a language, and he could not have loved her more.
“You are full of surprises aren’t you, Ava?” Sebastian teased her; she giggled, shrugging nonchalantly. “You know what, so am I. So you take some deep breaths if you don’t want to ruin your makeup, ‘cause I’m going to make you cry like a baby.” Ava laughed then took a dramatically obvious deep breath to mock Sebastian; he laughed then began his vows. “Ava, I knew I had to have you in my life from the moment we first spoke. Our two best friends had just gotten themselves into a bit of a mess after ignoring our very wise advice, and you’d called Chris’ phone thinking he’d pick up only to get me instead.” You and Chris chuckled, shaking your heads; that unnecessary fight felt like a lifetime ago. “I had no idea what I wanted with you once I had you in my life, but I knew I had to start somewhere. Then I met you and-”
“Kian, no!” Mandy gasped when Kian slid off her lap and ran towards the alter; she’d just missed his wrist. “Kian,” she got to her feet and pointed at the spot in front of her, “come here.” He ignored her, carefully climbing up the steps. “Now, Kian. Come back here,” she repeated in a firmer tone and got ignored again.
“Sebba,” Kian tugged at Sebastian’s pants and Sebastian smiled, pulling his hands away from Ava to scoop his little brother-in-law into his arms. Kian grinned happily and wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s neck, hugging him tightly. “I love you, Sebba.”
“I love you too, buddy,” Sebastian hugged him back, then kept one arm secured around Kian while he moved the other to hold Ava’s hand again. “You hold on tight while I complete my vows, okay?” Kian nodded, clinging on to Sebastian while smiling cheekily at his big sister. “You ready to get another brother, Kian?”
“Yes!” Kian cheered, clapping excitedly.
“Good,” Sebastian kissed his cheek. “'Cause me too, buddy.” Ava smiled at their interaction; she always loved the way Sebastian had with both her brothers, especially Kian. “Now where was I? Oh right,” he said before anyone could tell him. “Then I met you and I knew what I wanted, and that was to be with you, love you, and care for you in ways you deserved. So that is my promise to you, Ava, for as long as I am alive- you will always have me to love and care for you. I will support you through everything and walk alongside you on any endeavors you might want to pursue. I am yours eternally and faithfully because aasheghet hastam.” He smiled when Ava started crying at his use of 'I love you’ in Persian. “Can we just skip the 'I do’ and just pronounce us husband and wife already so I can kiss her?”
“It’s fairly clear that you both do, so-” the celebrant laughed, “I hereby pronounce you husband and wife.” Sebastian and Ava smiled as they inched closer to each other; Sebastian balancing Kian on his hip. “You may kiss your bride.” As soon as their lips touched, the entire room exploded with cheers and applause. “Mr. and Mrs. Sebastian Stan!”
So I was attempting to make a rotoscope type gif of this moment (x) in the let’s play live documentary, but as you can see I got a little sidetracked as one of the frames looked like a smooch. It’s my birthday I’m allowed to get carried away with silly indulgences. (◍ ´꒳` ◍)b
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this! I know I haven’t posted any NCIS yet (mostly because I’ve written some GREAT Supernatural suff), but here it is now! I hope you all enjoy this! Requests are open and feedback is welcome <3
You sat on the curb outside of the NCIS building, thinking about the mistakes you had made. You let a criminal escape and you got hurt in the process. Not only that, but Gibbs had grilled you relentlessly for it. You knew this job was hard, but you should have known better. You had this job for two years already, but somehow you had made a rookie mistake.
You sighed, looking at your hands, trying to figure out what to do next. Rain started to pour down heavily; that’s when you started to cry. You couldn’t take it anymore; you needed to let it all out. It was late at night and almost everyone in the building was already home, except your team and a few others. You told Tony and McGee that you were going for a walk, and they let you, no questions asked. They knew today had been rough for you.
You didn’t hear Gibbs walk up beside you, as he sat down next to you, a cup of coffee in his hand. He sighed, that’s when you noticed his presence, “what are you doing out here in the rain, [Y/L/N]? You’ll get sick.”
“What’s another mistake,” you said, your voice cracking. You didn’t have to wipe tears away; your tears mixed in with the rain that pelted your face. You couldn’t look at your boss, it was hard enough him being next to you.
“People make mistakes, [Y/N]. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, but I was angry earlier. That I can’t undo. If I’ve made you feel inadequate, just know that I didn’t mean to,” Gibbs said lowly, trying to get a look at your face.
Second attempt with a pixel art animation, this time it’s a little more complex respect the other one. The story behind this animation is a theory based on the fact that Anti called Jack and Schneeple his puppets, so I thought to add Chase in and make an animation with them all. What do you all think about it?
This is the first run cycle I’ve done in six years (and my third ever attempt at one). I’ll try and find my first one at some point, but for now your can burn your eyeballs out watching this instead.
(Notes to self: Front legs should come more before head movement, there should be more spacing between all legs, and there should be more up/down movement between the two body circles. Tail should curl in more when butt lifts up. Also timing between front and back should be slightly more staggered. Improvements for next time! ((ALSO ANATOMY, DEAR GOD)))
(I’m so sorry for making you watch this abomination, please forgive me orz)
For third place, the story I picked is ‘Brewery Tour’ by@jhoomwrites!
I’ve seen the text post that this is based on floating around on Tumblr, and I honestly love what you did with it! The banter between Dean and Cas via their little postcards is adorable, and the ending was hella cute!
I don’t follow you yet, so you get a follow back from me as promised! And of course everyone should take a looksie at your blog and AO3! Congratulations on a job well done!
It’s a frosty January morning when Castiel pulls his robe tight to go out and check his mail. He hastily grabs the contents and darts back inside before the chill can settle in his lungs. Briefly carding through it, there’s nothing of interest. Only junk mail, it seems, so he tosses it into the recycling.
A postcard, tucked in between a flyer and a large coupon book, slips free and flutters to the floor. Castiel barely gives it a second glance, reaching down to throw it in with the rest. However, something makes him stop to read it first. On one side is a picture of the Sam Adams Brewery, on the other is a brief note.
Hey, I used to live in your house. I’m drunk in Boston, and it’s the only address I know. Happy Holidays. - DW
There’s something oddly sweet about the sentiment, so he decides to keep the card from this mystery DW. He pins it to his fridge, held in place (fittingly enough) by a magnetic bottle opener. And there it would have stayed, forgotten. Except that Castiel can’t stop thinking about the unknown sender. It nags at him until he gives in. Such a well-meaning message deserves to be answered, and he’s determined to do just that.
I have waited for this day for too long now. Today, I am presented to the world for the very first time as a woman. Today is my coming out.
I stand for a moment in the empty room full of ornately decorated tables and gold chairs. The space at the bottom of the sweeping staircase is the dedicated stage and dance floor.
It’s where Thomas and I will dance for the first time after he escorts me and I am announced as a debutante. It’s a moment I’ve dreamt of for so long that I can’t tell if this is just another dream or reality.
Before going back upstairs where all the other debutantes prepare themselves, I watch as Thomas and Jackson turn onto the property, the tires of Thomas’s father’s mint 1964 Buick Skylark squealing. With the top down, I can hear them both hooting, like they’ve conquered an untamable beast. Boys will be boys.
“Julia?” I turn to find Frenchy hovering on the steps with her hair in curlers and in nothing but her undergarments and one of her father’s old button-up oxfords.
“They’re here,” I tell her. “It’s going to be perfect.”
Her lips spread into a thin smile. “I have no doubt.”
The dressing room is loud with frantic laughter and shrill voices. Frenchy and I share a dressing station. I watch, hypnotized as she pulls her curlers from her hair and each chestnut ringlet bounces into shape like an exclamation mark.
When she’s done, she stands behind me, her fingers polished with a quietly rebellious coral work their way through my hair. Effortlessly, she sweeps my strawberry blonde locks into a simple French twist.
She drapes a string of pearls around my neck, and I let my fingers brush them gently.
“She would have wanted you to have them.”
Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I nod.
“Okay, girls!” calls Miss Penelope. “Time to get those dresses on.”
I help Frenchy into her gown first, a floating floor length chiffon dress with a jewel studded waistline. The bodice fits her perfectly and I can practically envision Jackson’s hungry gaze. “He’s going to love it,” I tell her.
Blush gathers in her chest as she grins knowingly.
“Your turn, Julia.”
I step into my white gown, the most important dress I’ll likely ever wear—second only to my wedding gown. My mother picked it out. It’s the kind of dress that commands your attention. A white brocade gown that sweeps the floor and cuts in on my waist. The sweetheart neckline is the good kind of tease. Well, according to my mother, and the soft chiffon off the shoulder sleeves flutter as I move, a nice reminder not to take myself so seriously.
Once we’re dressed, I take Frenchy’s hand as we sneak off down the hallway to where the escorts are.
“Frenchy! Julia! Where are you two running off to?” calls Miss Penelope.
“To wave at our mothers from the balcony,” I tell her.
“Well, be quick about it. Don’t let anyone else see you.”
Frenchy and I look to each other and giggle. “Yes, ma’am!”
Down the hallway, I duck my head into the sitting room that is currently serving as the holding pen for the suitors. I point a long finger at Thomas and Jackson, summoning them. The two of them look devilishly good in their tuxedos. Thomas’s raven hair is freshly cut and Jackson’s white blonde curls are the kind of thing girls go crazy for. Too bad for them. He’s all Frenchy’s.
I take Frenchy’s hand again as the door shuts quietly behind me, “Come on,” I tell her.
We dash down the hallway and up another set of stairs as the sitting room door swings open.
“I see you!” calls Thomas.
Their shiny dress shoes slap against the floor. “Ready or not, here we come,” says Jackson.
“We’re waiting,” says Frenchy in a sing-song voice.
“And we have been for quite some time,” I mutter.
Frenchy giggles as the boys take the stairs two at a time.
Thomas sees me first. He stops on the landing with his hand over his heart. “Christ. You look absolutely incredible.”
He takes the two steps toward me and sweeps me off my feet, swinging me in a circle.
Jackson does the same with Frenchy. He groans into her ear. “French, you’re killing me, doll.”
I take Thomas’s hand. “Follow us. We’ve got a few minutes before anyone comes looking.
I lead the four of us to an empty bedroom on the third floor. I wonder briefly about what wicked things have happened in this place, but I have no energy to pay mind to forgotten pasts.
A dark velvet canopy hangs over the richly decorated bed.
Frenchy and I perch on the edge and I squeeze her hand quickly. Today, we become women.
Thomas and Jackson saunter toward us, and I know it’s crazy and maybe even sickening to some, but I’m so glad not to be doing this alone.
Thomas hooks a thumb behind my ear and pulls me toward him, our lips colliding. It’s hard for me to see what Jackson and Frenchy are up to, but I can hear them. Kissing, giggling, and moaning. My sweet Thomas rucks up my skirt and separates my knees with his hips.
I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long. This exact moment.
I pull back and cough three times as he continues to kiss down my neck. Over my pearls. Over her pearls. And onto my chest.
My dreams become reality as I plunge an unexpected knife into his gut.
He grunts and groans, and the noises he makes aren’t so different from how he sounded a moment ago. Sex and death have more in common than I anticipated.
Beside me Frenchy stands as Jackson’s body hits the antique oriental carpet with a dull thud. Blood pools around him, saturating the carpet. Jackson rolls over onto his side, attempting to crawl away, but Frenchy straddles him before he can get very far.
Thomas still stands before me and I stab indiscriminately.
“What are you doing?” he sputters, blood and drool dripping from his lips.
He pushes me back against the bed, holding his gut with one hand and my throat with the other.
“This is for Greta,” I tell him.
He searches my face frantically. “Julia, I didn’t hurt Greta. I didn’t touch her. I don’t know what sick fucks did, but it wasn’t me and Jackson I swear.” He stumbles forward, restraining my knife-bearing arm.
I gasp for air as he presses down on my windpipe. I wonder for a moment if he’s telling the truth and if Frenchy and I are somehow wrong. But that can’t be. I know for certain. He and Jackson took Greta from us. They used her body and hung her from a tree. They left her strung up there naked. On her own parent’s property. They did that to her and they left her there to die. The coroner said her neck didn’t even snap, so she suffocated to death slowly. Like I am now.
Our wonderful Greta. The missing point in our trinity. Our best friend who we must now survive without.
My vision goes foggy just as he yells, Frenchy pulling him off of me.
It takes me a moment to come to, but when I do, I find Thomas and Frenchy wrestling on the ground beside Jackson’s limp body.
With my knife, I stab him in the shoulder, giving Frenchy a moment to de-entangle herself from him. And then again in the gut.
Blood pours from his mouth, as he says, “She begged.” He spits in my face.
And that’s all I need to hear. I rear my arm back and drive my knife deep into his chest.
Life flutters in his eyes, and then he’s gone.
It was to fast, I think. He should have suffered even more.
“We gotta go!” says Frenchy, her chest heaving and her once white dress splattered with blood.
I look down to find myself in the same state. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment and force my brain to remember The Plan.
Digging into Thomas’s pockets, I find his father’s keys.
Frenchy grabs the small getaway bag we’d left behind the nightstand and the two of us race down the servant’s stairs and out to where all the cars are parked.
I hear my mother’s voice. She can’t see me and she’s not calling to me. But I can hear her somewhere outside chattering with someone. Small talk bubbles from her freely, and I only wish I could say goodbye. She’ll look back on this moment and always wonder exactly where she was and at what point it was too late.
Frenchy jumps into the passenger seat of Thomas’s father’s car as I slide in behind the wheel. I pull my dress up so my feet can find the pedals.
As we turn the corner out of the property, the tires squeal like they had earlier today. Once we hit the highway, Frenchy takes my hand and she doesn’t let go. There’s no going back. Not ever.