#achievement hunter reader inserts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

abellaheart-blog · 1 year

Text

Trish Una x OC Post

Trish x Abella Wedding Heacanons 👰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👰

Here’s a link to my JJBA Masterlist I write a lot of character x reader. I also have Trish x Abella under the Trish x OC category if you’re interested in their story. My OC is a self insert OC so she’s me. I like creating OC content for fun. I enjoy talking about OCs so feel free to tell me about your own OCs if you like.

Trish would be the one to propose with how confident she is. They get married within three years of their committed relationship to each other. Trish truly understood Abella was her soul mate after knowing her for seven years. It was when Abella dedicated a fashion line of clothing to her beloved Trish she knew Abella was her bride to be. The popstar proposed to Abella after a garden date. While they looked over the flowers she got on her knee popping the question to Abella. The ring she offered Abella is a rose gold band with a huge pink heart shaped diamond center outlined in diamonds. Trish would have a ring with similar colors but a big diamond with the band covered in small diamonds. She spent a month figuring out how she wanted to propose and what rings she would want for them.

Trish would be twenty-one by this point and Abella would be twenty-five. They marry in 2008 around spring time.

The two desire a pink rose theme so they’ll book somewhere private with a ballroom and huge pink rose garden. The garden will be where they marry in front of the rose covered gazebo.

Trish would’ve loved Bruno Bucciarati to walk her down the isle but after his passing she grew close friends to her companions she met when she was fifteen. She asks none other than Giorno Giovanna to would walk her down the isle. The don was pleasantly surprised and accepted. He felt honored and was a friend of Abella’s as well, he was happy upon hearing the news of the girl’s marriage.

For Abella her treasure hunting uncle would walk her down the isle as she has no other father figure in her life. Her father died in a tragic accident after she moved away from New York when she was fourteen. Her uncle was someone who inspired her to become a treasure hunter after she established her fashion boutique in France with her best friend, Crisella.

The entire wedding would have a garden theme and the two young women would spend much time together planning. They knew what they desired so no wedding planner was necessary. Their friends in Passione would help them plan. Giorno offered to help cover costs for much of their wedding much to the girl’s surprise. They would thank him countless times and squeeze him into hugs. Much to the surprise of their blonde friend. He isn’t used to hugs but accepted them. He would help them with the flowers too since his stand has no trouble growing them.

There would be no expense too high for Trish’s outfit. She went shopping for a short white bridal dress with all her friends. They would help her pick her outfit for the wedding. It would be Giorno, Mista, Fugo, Polnareff, and many of her friends from her popstar life.

The day before the wedding she gets a manicure with hot pink tips fading to pink. She hires her hairstylist and makeup artist who normally take care of her looks before she goes on stage to perform. They’re eager to help her achieve her look for the wedding. Her hair is styled about the same but styled to be more elegant. Her hair is a bit longer reaching to her shoulders. For makeup she has pink lips with sparkly rose gold eyeshadows and long black flirty lashes. She’ll wear a pair of rosegold pearl earrings to finish off her look.

Her attire consists of a short white bridal dress with puffy off the shoulder sleeves. For her shoes they’re white lace heals with thin white bows at the heal. She’ll wear short white lace gloves and a small head accessory with a small veil shielding her face.

Abella being the fashion designer she is takes it upon herself to design her wedding dress. She’ll spend months sewing together the lace and gown together. Her strapless ball gown will be the wedding dress of her dreams. The gown itself is elegant with a floor length, giving enough room to show off her heals as she walks. She’ll buy a long cathedral wedding veil with lace and white bridal heals with white thin ribbons tied into bows around her ankles. She’ll decide to wear a black tailcoat vest with enough room to show off the front of her dress, making for a heart shaped look at the chest. The black tailcoat will be short with two small buttons in the front. Her wrists will have black suit cuffs and gold teal colored rose cuff links. She’ll wear rose gold hanging earrings with teardrop teal jewels to match the cuff links.

The day of the wedding Bella’s staff and friends will help her get ready at the boutique. Abella owns her own boutique with her business partner and bestie Crisella, so it’s big enough to accommodate all her friends. Since it’s self owned she closed for the day so all her staff could go to her wedding. They help her into her gown and give her a makeover. They like to call it a bridal makeover.

All her friends are good at makeup and hair. Abella has long dark locks of curls that require a lot to maintain. Her curls are waist length. Three of her friends begin to style it since she has so much hair to work with. One friend focuses on her eye makeup going for nude brown colors and shimmering inner corners to bring out Bella’s big brown eyes. Her long lashes are attached with an elegant look to them. Her lip gloss is a natural pink much like her manicured nails one of her staff members took upon themselves to do. Her manicure looked similar to a French tip.

After all is said and done Abella has curls dropping beside her face to shape her face. A big strand of her hair was wrapped around her head while the rest of her curls fell behind her shoulders. Her hairs falls down her back and waist. After she is done getting ready her friends begin to cry and take pictures of her inside her boutique. They all get ready for the wedding since they’re bridesmaids.

Finally at the huge rose garden Bella is walked down the isle first and her uncle has a smile upon his face as he’s walking her down the isle. His gold tooth among the rest of his white teeth shining eagerly as he smiles. His normal black eye patch is switched out with one having a pink rose stitched to his eyepatch. He wears a black suit with the front showing off some of his chest. The leather boots and ponytail finish off his look. He towers over the small bride at 5’11. Her long wedding viel is two tiered so the front covers her torso and face. The gown is big covering the area she walks by.

Her uncle gives her such a proud and loving smile before he kisses her head whispering an, “I love you” and she returns the loving words to her emotional uncle. Her veil is so long Mista and his stands take it upon themselves to fix it prompting Abella to thank them with a kiss to the foreheads. They all give her a thumbs up as they take their seats. Number five is crying and surprisingly the others don’t pick on him for it.

Abella tried keeping it together since she felt so overwhelmingly happy. Her loved ones in the crowd crying as well. Trish’s side is filled with mafioso, her manager, fellow celebrities, famous fashion designers or models she’s met, etc. They’re not emotional like Abella’s side but they do smile upon seeing Trish.

Soon it’s Trish’s turn to walk down the isle. Giorno is beside her wearing a pink suit with golden ladybug button accessories. The undershirt is black with the vest matching his jacket. His outfit is complete with a red tie and white gloves. His hair is down with a pink rose sticking by his ear. He is smiling but his smile doesn’t compare to Trish’s.

The pink haired bride is smiling like never before. It’s such a gaze she only makes while she’s singing on stage. Such a smile will make for a lovely picture as in the near future it will be used on the cover of a magazine when it’s revealed she had married. She kisses Giornos cheek before he gives Abella a kind smile which she returns with a thankful teary eyed expression. He’s happy for his dear friends and thinks it’s nice to witness their beautiful display of love with this marriage. More so when he hears their vows to each other later. He takes a seat between Fugo and Polnareff. His consigliere crying rivers of tears for poor Fugo to deal with. Who wipes off his purple suit with a tired sigh. Polnareff always cries at weddings.

Trish is greeted to Abella who is crying tears of joy. She tells Trish how beautiful she looks. Trish returns the compliment as she lifts her brides veil, gently placing it behind her head. Abella’s teary eyes are filled with love but she’s wiping off her tears. Afterwards the two say their vows and “I do’s” with tears running down their faces. Abella shyly kisses her bride and their picture is taken by their photographer.

They run down the isle together holding hands and looking at each other with love. Abella’s side is cheering while Trish’s side applauds. They’ll be taking pictures at the gazebo with all their friends and family.

Everyone makes it to the ballroom to dance. The brides are greeted by all their loved ones. Their bridesmaids crying and giving the two a big group hug.

Giorno takes it upon himself to steal the first dance by inviting Trish with a gentlemanly bow. She accepts while Abella giggles. Not long after her uncle asks her to dance with him. The two brides end up dancing with everyone.

Abella and Trish attack their dessert table since they’ve been eating so healthy to look good for the wedding. The giant wedding cake had their favorite flavors. Red velvet and extra dark chocolate for Trish who devoured two pieces. Carrot cake for Abella who also had strawberry shortcake from the dessert table. The two had plenty of guests especially Trish since she’s a celebrity. They took plenty of pictures with the wedding cake since it was so incredibly over priced.

At the end of the night they toss their bouquets who ended up being Fugo and Abella’s maid of honor, Crisella. Fugo was pleasantly surprised he caught it. He caught Trish’s bouquet. He was walking by to serve himself strawberry shortcake. Bella’s best friend was screaming as she cheered catching her bouquet.

The blushing brides end up at an expensive hotel Trish booked. For their honeymoon they traveled to Cancun to enjoy three days together. Trish would get many calls from her manager upon the news of her marriage being known as many wanted to contact her about it once she’s back from her honeymoon.

#trish una x oc #trish una x abella #abella x trish #trish x abella #wedding headcanons #gay wedding #jjba trish

37 notes · View notes

the7thcrow · 1 year

Text

I posted 764 times in 2022

That's 156 more posts than 2021!

235 posts created (31%)

529 posts reblogged (69%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the7thcrow

@sorikkung

@hongism

@svnthpop

I tagged 755 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#corynn thinks - 234 posts

#asks - 95 posts

#srb - 91 posts

#mutual pals🕺🏼 - 60 posts

#fic recs - 50 posts

#corynn:💡 - 36 posts

#natgig feedback - 35 posts

#male wife - 33 posts

#itzy - 20 posts

#my enemy <3 - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#have definitely been thinking about the need to work on my protagonist building though and i think the amount of strictly reader insert

My Top Posts in 2022:

Not all that Glitters is Gold -> 07

series pairing: (fem) princess!reader x seonghwa x san x wooyoung. eventual polyamory.

series masterlist | previous chapter

Part Seven: an orphanage, an elemental, and comfort

series rating: 16+

series genre: action and adventure. romance. angst. fluff. suggestive. fantasy au.

series warnings: character death, blood and violence, weaponry, injury, suggestive content, mxm content, elements of misogyny, language, monsters. (will only be using chapter specific warnings for things not included on this list.)

summary: as a princess fleeing a royal assassination attempt, you have no choice but to put your trust in a band of three thieves in order to reach the kingdom of kuroku alive. however, amongst magic, deceit, and the bounty hunters that are hot on your trail, you realize that you might have stumbled upon a relationship far more complicated than what meets the eye.

chapter details beneath the cut ->

See the full post

268 notes - Posted November 17, 2022

toxin | psh

pairing: historian!seonghwa x (fem) goddess!reader.

wc: 9.4k

genre: meet-ugly. angst. suggestive. magic au. god/goddess au.

summary: having fallen victim to a rather bizarre betrayal by a colleague, seonghwa finds himself in an even more bizarre situation. that being the unexpected success of their summoning ritual that leaves him subject to the will of a fertility goddess, as well as his own intemperate desire.

warnings: cults and cult activities, character death, religious tones (although any relation to a real religion is strictly coincidental, this is entirely made up), guns and violence, blood, mild gore, elements of mind control, heavy making out, aphrodisiac of sorts (?), generally dominant and submissive tones.

a/n: that’s.. a lot more warnings than i originally intended there to be. lmao oops. maybe i’m a tad insane for this, but if you’re also insane and prepared for a wild ride, strap in and enjoy. twas inspired by the ponzonya mv by purple kiss.

... .. .

“Something about this seems… off,” Seonghwa whispers, voice low so that only the man next to him is able to hear. The reasoning for his hushed tone is abundantly clear, eyes darting around the room to ensure that none of the others might be listening. That none of them are aware of his hesitancy, of his nervous reluctance.

Fortunately, they don’t seem to notice. The cave bustles with activity, the different men dressed in dark robes busying themselves as they prepare the room for the ritual. Dressing the once dreary cave with items of luxury, they carry large silk tapestries and golden decor, dragging in velvet furniture and barrels of expensive wine, so that the room appears fit for royalty.

Although Seonghwa supposes that in a way, after all, it is. Although the subject may be considered to hold far grander superiority than any earthly king may hope to achieve.

“Are we certain this is a good idea?” He presses a little further, nudging the man next to him, who’s name he’s learned is Hongjoong. Although eccentric, he seems to be a tad more understanding than the rest of his colleagues. After the past few weeks of this mess, he’s the closest thing that the historian could consider as a friend.

Although the fact stands that for all the kindness and sympathy the small, delicate man seems to offer, he also is the head of this organization.

“Cult,” Seonghwa reminds himself, because organization is simply too light a term to define exactly what he’s gotten himself caught up in. “He’s the head of a cult.”

“Don’t fret, Dr. Park,” Hongjoong replies, accompanied by far too easy of a smile, as his hands dust along the altar before him, tracing the carved runes with his fingers. “It will all be worth it, you’ll see.”

“I just,” Seonghwa starts again, swallowing deeply as he glances around the room. There’s an itch under his skin, one that screams for him to stop this whole disaster, that something is undeniably wrong. “I’m just not sure about this.”

The smile on Hongjoong’s face falls almost immediately, eyebrows furrowing together in concern. “You’re not telling me that you’re getting cold feet now, are you?” He asks, and although his tone is far more worried than accusatory, there is something of an edge to them, an unspoken warning.

The underlying message that hints if Seonghwa really were to be having cold feet, then the sweetness of his words and their friendship could quickly turn sour.

“No, of course not,” Seonghwa rushes quickly, nails digging into his palm in a desperate release of panic, as he plasters a smile onto his face. “It’s just that the air feels a little different today, don’t you think? A little off?”

Hongjoong nods in agreement, although the gesture shows far more eagerness and excitement compared to the sick nausea Seongwha feels.

“I feel it too,” Hongjoong states, before clasping both his hands on Seonghwa’s shoulders, shaking him slightly. “It means we’re about to do something extraordinary.”

With that the man leaves his side, most likely to check that everything else is in order. That all artifacts and sigils for the ceremony are in the proper place and planned to perfection.

Artifacts. Seonghwa can’t help but chuckle at the word, at the entire foundation of his life's work that has led him to this moment.

As a historian and archeologist, he always liked to believe that his work would bring him to new places and adventures. That he’d get to travel to ancient lands, and dig up the remnants of their history and beauty, to walk with past societies as if they were his own.

Well, he supposes that the universe may have taken these wishes a little too literally.

When Hongjoong first arrived at the historian’s makeshift office a few weeks ago, nestled deep within the forest and about a mile’s walk from the nearest village, he was in search of an artifact that Seonghwa had recently added to his collection of study. Upon first meeting, the historian had found the man delightful.

They’d talked over brandy for the utmost of three hours, discussing the ancient religion native to the area, and their different perspectives and findings. Hongjoong, he learned, was very well-versed in the identities and roles of the many different gods and goddesses, and had plenty to offer that Seonghwa had yet to discover in texts of his own.

Of course at the moment, Seonghwa didn’t know why Hongjoong was so well acquainted with this myth. If he had, perhaps he would have kindly said goodbye to the younger man, before proceeding to usher him out of the office and lock the door behind him.

But Seonghwa did not know this at the time, so instead - after an entire evening of pleasant conversation - he accepted Hongjoong’s invitation to view his own collection of artifacts and ancient texts back at the man’s apartment the following night.

And so one evening turned into two, and then two into three, and over the next couple weeks it was safe to say that a certain level of trust had been established between them. This was Hongjoong’s plan after all, to establish a bond before he started to introduce the more… eccentric parts of his research.

See the full post

368 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

atonement

pairing: witch!wooyoung x (fem) hunter!reader

summary: get in, get the job done, get out before sunrise. as a hunter that is your motto, a sacred rule for whenever you dare to enter a witch’s lair. however, on this particular solo quest, your plans take a turn that you never could have quite anticipated.

word count: 6.2k

genre: enemies to lovers au. supernatural au. suggestive. romance.

warnings: sacrilegious tones, knives, attempted murder, themes of misogyny (not from wooyoung), heavy making out, bondage but make it magical.

rating: 16+

a/n: this is self-indulgent. i just needed to write some woo enemies to lovers, okay? don’t judge me.

...

Get in, get the job done, get out before sunrise.

A mantra that you can’t help but repeat over and over in your mind as you make your way down the narrow alleyway, footsteps echoing against the lantern-lit, cobblestone path. You press your hand firmly against the knife fastened to your thigh, feeling it’s cool metal hilt even through the fabric of your dress. The only source of protection against the danger you are willingly approaching.

The danger you’ve approached countless times before, but then again, never alone. That is exactly what makes tonight different, what makes the risk tenfold. You’re entirely on your own this time round, none of your hunting band willing to join you on this particular little escapade. All too frightened to approach the rumours that have been plaguing your city these last couple months.

The alleyway takes another turn, and you find yourself on a main drag, doing your best to hurry as you sprint across the street before hiding yourself once more. A woman out this late is thought to be unseemly, as well as dangerous. The last thing you need is to catch the attention of the wrong set of eyes, whether it be gossip or something far more sinister you might catch yourself up in.

These thoughts are put to a halt as you see your destination further down the alley, a small shop, the only light emitted from the run-down building shining through it’s single stained window.

As you approach closer, you can see that the sign hanging above the shop simply reads “Artisan Goods.” No semblance of creativity or personable flare, but of course, it doesn’t need one.

Because it’s not actually an artisan goods store, it’s simply masquerading to be.

You approach the window, peeking inside to see if there are any other customers. If there are, you will wait until they are gone, until any possible witnesses for what you are about to do are out of the way.

Fortunately, you see that the shop is empty of any buyers. The only person inside being the owner, who currently has his back turned as he adjusts the display of goods stationed behind the counter.

The exact man you’re looking for tonight.

You adjust your hair, doing your best to look poised and put-together as you take a deep breath, preparing for your act. Deception is something you’ve trained well in, and you know the in’s and out’s of fooling a man.

There are two major rules: Look attractive and keep them distracted. You pull both off, they always let their guard down. Every single time.

You push open the door, the soft jingle of the entry bell ringing as you do so, pulling the man’s attention from the display to yourself.

“Ah, welcome,” he says, setting down the jar of jam in his hands and facing you fully. He has dark hair, parted in the middle and falling long over his eyes. A sharp jawline, tall nose-bridge, and straight teeth. He’s handsome, but that comes as no surprise. All witches are attractive, as well as vein. They have magic to make themselves beautiful, and you have yet to meet one that didn’t refrain from using it.

Your hunting group states this is a sin, a defiance against creation. Frankly, you couldn’t care less, spells for vanity are the very least of the dangers that witches are capable of.

“Can I help you find anything in particular?” He asks, watching you with a curious look. It’s late for a woman to be out by herself, and he is fully aware of that. You won’t be able to catch him off guard at the moment, but luckily you are prepared for this.

“Chrysopoeia,” you state, silently reveling in the way the man smiles, expression shifting from wary to delighted. The term is the name of an old alchemical text, written by the witch Cleopatra herself. However, it doubles as a code in occult circles around the city, a way of proving that you are also a practitioner of the dark arts. They change every couple months, and fortunately for you, it hasn’t since your last hunt.

The man grins, walking out from behind the counter and pulling a pair of keys from his pocket. He moves over to a wall of tapestries, gently peeling back the fabrics to reveal a hidden door.

See the full post

431 notes - Posted January 8, 2022

not all that glitters is gold: mlist ♛

series trailer I series playlist

series pairing: (fem) princess!reader x seonghwa x san x wooyoung. eventual polyamory.

series genre: action and adventure. romance. angst. fluff. suggestive. fantasy au.

current word count: 87.9k

chapter list:

part one: a sacrifice, a narrow escape, and three bandits. (10.0k)

“Where are we going to go?” You ask as Mingi removes his cloak, handing the garment over to you. You put it on, throwing the hood over your head. Best to take any precautions available.

“Assuming we get out of here alive,” he starts, checking to see if the horse’s saddle is in proper condition. “Kuroku.”

part two: a thrice stolen necklace, two scorpions, and a lie. (10.1k)

Your neck feels abnormally bare. Naked, the last part of your home falling into the grasp of a thief.

“There,” you whisper, shifting your attention back to the map, not looking the elemental in the eye. “Happy?”

Woo chuckles before slipping the necklace into his back pocket. “Actually, I am.”

part three: a blacksmith, a nightmare, and oh-so-sweet empathy. (12.9k)

You feel the presence of a figure settle behind you, as San awkwardly clears his throat.

“I meant to tell you earlier,” he says, voice quiet. You can faintly see his reflection through the window as well, and his expression is somber. “I just wasn’t sure how.”

part four: an old enemy, jealousy, and a bar-room brawl. (12.3k)

You don’t even get the chance to turn around and see who it is before San speaks.

“Fuck,” he mutters beneath his breath, good eye wide as his gaze shifts from the door, to you, to the table. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

part five: a desert, a strange tavern, and the influence of desire. (16.7k)

“It’s strange for a tavern to be out here,” San comments, casting a wary glance to which you return. “I wouldn’t think there’d be much business.”

“Maybe they run off of people like us,” Woo offers with a shrug. “Fools who don’t bring enough water.”

part six: a rest-stop, illusions, and a begrudging truce. (12.7k)

And yet, something about the way San’s hand sits on his shoulder, remaining an entire arm-length away, makes him feel…small.

It’s what drives him to say his next few words, to finally let a fraction of what’s been building inside of him slip. To be selfish for once.

“Do I make you uncomfortable, San?”

part seven: an orphanage, an elemental, and comfort. (13.2k)

“Have you ever killed a person?” You ask, and Wooyoung finds he isn’t surprised by the question. He doesn’t want to answer it, but he isn’t surprised by it.

He also believes the answer is something you should hear.

“I have,” he replies. “But sometimes people are monsters too.”

See the full post

714 notes - Posted February 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

just in case | hhj

pairing: hyunjin x (gn) reader.

wc: 8.6k

genre: fluff. angst. suggestive. romcom. office au. valentine’s day au. coworkers to lovers. slight enemies to lovers.

warnings: alcohol, heavy making out, a both snarky and unreliable narrator, all around just inappropriate behaviour for a workplace (but what else would you expect from an office au lmao.)

summary: your valentine’s day plans of bad cable and a bottle of wine take an unexpected turn, as when leaving the office you witness a completely different side of your least favourite coworker, hwang hyunjin. perhaps valentine’s day really does hold a little bit of magic.

a/n: this is so disgustingly late, frankly i’m ashamed. but life and such, you know how it is. this is for the sweet treats from skz event hosted by @districtninewriters. hope you all enjoy, and i’d recommend checking out everyone else’s works!! also i lowkey resent this fic for how long it has taken me, so i hope it’s okay.

Sunday’s are the worst.

With the office being full of coworkers hungover and regretful from the previous night’s little escapades, as well as consumed by the dread of being forced to work during the weekend, the air always seems to hang a little lower on Sunday’s.

Of course, today is no normal Sunday. Not at all, and it is apparent in the excited buzz and extra chatter that fills the office with a tad more enthusiasm than annoyance.

No, today is no normal Sunday, but rather Valentine’s Day.

Which depending on exactly who you are and the activities you have planned for the evening, could either mean that this particular Sunday is slightly better or worse than average. For some, it’s a night of romance - budding or long-term - of roses and chocolate and candlelit dinners, of longing glances and playing footsie under the table.

While for others, it’s nothing special, no significant other to share the night with, and the giddy attitude that fills the air is only slightly nauseating.

You are a part of this latter.

It should be made clear that you don’t hate Valentine’s Day. Frankly, an extra night just to celebrate the love in a relationship is really quite sweet, and you are not such a killjoy as to rain on other’s parades.

However, that doesn’t mean you can’t hate the way that people in the office treat Valentine’s Day. At least a little.

This particularly applies to Gahyeon, who is now peaking over your cubicle, a far too cheery smile on her face.

“Any plans for the night?” She asks sweetly, expression innocent, although you’re fairly certain she already knows the answer.

“No,” you say shortly, before realizing that might be too blunt, and frankly, a little rude. “Nothing tonight. You?”

“Felix and I are going out for drinks later,” she replies, a faint blush lacing her cheeks at the mention of her fiance. You’ve met Felix a few times, the blonde sometimes opting to come inside when picking her up after a later shift. He’s nice. Cute. A well-suited match for her, based on the very brief conversations you’ve had with him.

“We’re going to Dominique’s,” she adds, and you manage to refrain from letting your surprise show. Felix clearly has expensive taste, although you suppose the ring he gave her two months ago was already a pretty obvious indication of that.

“Well, I’m sure the two of you will have a good time,” you offer, returning to face your computer screen, assuming that the conversation is over and you’re free to return to your work. However, this is not the case, as Gahyeon continues to stare at you from over-top the cubicle, chin resting over top of her crossed arms.

“I got you a gift,” she says, causing you to twist your chair to face her once more, raising an eyebrow. She disappears back into her own space, searching for whatever she wishes to give you.

“Here,” she calls out, before once again popping her head back up into your line of sight. She has a gift bag in her hand, one that is so narrow and tall in length you already have a good idea of what it might be.

After taking the bag, you find your assumption proven correct, as you pull out a rather hefty bottle of wine.

You stare at the gift, before flickering your gaze back to Gahyeon. It’s not that you don’t like it, in fact, it’s your favourite brand. Even a tad more expensive than you typically let yourself reach for, unless for a special occasion.

You’re more so just confused as to exactly why Gahyeon would be giving you a bottle of wine, on Valentine’s Day none-the-less.

Her smile falls slightly. “Do you not like it?”

“No!” You rush out, quickly changing your bewildered expression into a smile. You certainly don’t want her to feel bad for getting you a gift, however strange it might be. “I mean, no - but not no as in no I hate it - sorry, yes. Yes, I like it. Thank you.”

She smiles again, and you let yourself relax slightly, taking a breath. “I’m more so just a bit lost,” you continue, examining the bottle once more. “What is this for?”

See the full post

749 notes - Posted March 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#counting down the days before natgig masterlist surpasses just in case #lmao can’t wait #this is pretty cool tho #thx everyone for the great year <3

11 notes · View notes

billconrad · 1 year

Text

Believing The Lie

I follow the tragic war in Ukraine closely and find it interesting that the primary source for raw news is Twitter, and the best analysis occurs on YouTube. These new sources have replaced the old sources, such as newspapers, internet articles, and national television. This new medium allows rapid news spreading and analysis. We can also check out the raw news sources and even directly contact the source—quite a change.

Recently, a YouTube influencer (I hate that word) discussed a translated Russian state television broadcast. It proclaimed that the restaurants in England were serving rat meat because of the chronic food shortage caused by their Ukraine support. Wow, what a bold lie! But unfortunately, many people truly believed this “trusted” news source.

What was going on in the viewer’s heads? “Because the news said so, it must be true.” “Makes sense to me.” “Seems logical.” “They have never lied before.” I propose something different is going on. These misguided people allowed themselves to believe the lie. Essentially, the lie is better than the truth. Humans often have ill-advised reactions to unpleasant situations. “I do not need to go on a diet. I look great!” But what does this have to do with writing? I am glad you asked.

I realized that the newscaster was not lying as I watched this news clip. She was acting. She read a fictional script, and the audience allowed themselves to be taken in. The same activity occurs in a play or a movie. There is no such thing as a Star Wars lightsaber, but we sure liked it when Luke Skywalker started waving one around. So, we (the audience) believed the lie.

Perhaps when watching a movie, we expect to be entertained; when watching the news, we expect facts. Yet, sometimes we allow ourselves to be taken in. It’s nice to feel good about ourselves; the awful truth is a hard pill. Blissful ignorance. How about our favorite person X? Did you hear X was drunk driving last week? No way, not true. X is a fantastic person!

Fictional writers use every trick to pull readers into their stories. We twist facts, add intimate relationships where they would never occur, alter physics, spice up the characters, insert an impossible plot twist, entice the reader with a juicy hook, and paint a scene larger than life. “A beautiful, intelligent woman with everything going for her falling in love with an ugly, stupid, fat beast of a man? Of course!”

Readers and viewers expect a dream world where crazy ideas come true, people commit outrageous acts, and the lowest of the low is commonplace. I suppose that was also the goal of the Russian newscaster. They were achieving the state agenda by any means necessary. However, to the rest of us, the results were absurd. Yet, that technique works every time in a story. Did you see the movie Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure? That silly movie was as believable as that Russian state news broadcaster. Fortunately, I keep my blogs real. Or do I?

You’re the best! -Bill

April 05, 2023

Hey book lovers, I published three! Please check them out.

Interviewing Immortality is a psychological thriller about a 500-year-old woman who forces a disgraced author to interview her.

Pushed to the Edge of Survival is a drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

Cable Ties is a classic spy novel about two hunters discovering that government communications are being recorded and the ensuing FBI investigation.

These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

#writing #state news

2 notes · View notes

stillswearing · 2 years

Text

Blood, Sweat, and Chrome

In less than five days I devoured Kyle Buchanan's 500-page oral history of how my most favorite film of all time, Mad Max: Fury Road, was made.

The Movie and I

I never saw the original trilogy. Frankly, I have no intention to. Fury Road for me stands alone. Fury Road is not just my favorite action movie of all time, or my favorite female-led movie, or even my favorite Tom Hardy movie. It is quite simply my Favorite Movie. Period.

2015 was a brilliant year for American films. A lot of my personal faves came out that year - Spotlight, Ex Machina, The Big Short, to name a few. But nothing has changed my perspective on what movies can achieve, let alone what action films could be, like Fury Road.

It was 2015. I was in the cinema, excited mainly to see Tom Hardy post-Inception, clueless about how this film took as long as I had lived up until that point to make it onto the silver screen.

My feminism was just about formed at that age. I had experienced the peak of the exhausting "anti-SJW" phenomenon online, clashed with people irl over my increasingly progressive philosophies, and carried all the baggage of a sociology undergrad who was shedding their traumatizing, extremely conservative Christian upbringing.

All that to say, I was wholly unprepared for the elegance with which Fury Road executed its message and how much I would resonate with it.

I thought I was just going to see a fun action movie starring my then-new favorite British boy. Instead, I left the cinema, overwhelmed and unable to process how much it meant to see Furiosa, and The Wives, and The Vuvalini defeat a patriarch that symbolized violence, inequality, and degradation. I was stunned at the face of something new. It would take a few of years for me to realize that Fury Road now held a special place in my heart.

At the risk of being overly sentimental, writing about my experience with this movie does make me misty-eyed. I never thought something like Fury Road could be possible. Not even aware yet of how much technique and energy it took to execute the film, I was primarily in awe of its audacity to exist given its story and over-arching themes.

I've always been a film nut. And as my love for movies grew, I had come to accept that the action genre (like many other genres) was never going to be interested in catering to someone like me, even if I did enjoy the best movies of its kind.

But in 2015, Fury Road came out, put Charlize Theron front and center (with a shaved head and amputated arm), and told me, "Fuck them. This is for you."

I was 20 years old, sat in the cinema, and I couldn't breathe.

The Book and I

It's 2022 now. My love for films has only grown. I now follow not just the careers of actors, directors, and screenwriters, but also trade publications, production companies, and culture reporters.

I was familiar with Kyle Buchanan through Twitter and thus his work for the NYT. I am also a fan of his peers, Hunter Harris and E. Alex Jung who write incredibly sharp profiles on people in the industry as well as film reviews.

When Buchanan announced his book, I was excited. I knew some of the drama that went down in the making of Fury Road, but obviously, there was no way for outsiders to know the depth of the journey to make the entire thing possible.

I am floored by Buchanan's work. A novice reader may just see this 500+ page book as a compilation of quotes from interviews of various people. But those who know how oral histories are made understand how difficult it is to create something like this. One needs the expertise and sharpness to know when to cut a quote, when to move on to a different speaker, which statements to put next to each other and in what order, when to insert narration, and ultimately how to weave multiple stories across dozens and dozens of interviews into one coherent, deeply affecting message. This is painstaking work. And all of it during a pandemic.

For me, reading this oral history was much like watching a documentary series. Blood, Sweat, & Chrome puts you among the people involved, immersed in every detail they shared. It presents a cohesive 20-year journey, with ups and downs, with moments of poignant stillness and moments of high-octane adrenaline. The fact that this book delivers a final product so dense yet so clear, without the need of a single authorial voice and instead uses the voices of so many people, it's amazing literary work.

Much like the film it was studying, Blood, Sweat, & Chrome pulls off its story with elegance - one that, honestly, I wish I could do too as someone writing nonfiction.

All that said, here are just some of my favorite moments from Blood, Sweat, and Chrome:

The movie was set to begin shooting in 2003 with Mel Gibson reprising the role lmao

Co-writer Nico Lathouris wrote a 190-page dramaturgical analysis of the film to further clarify its themes and to imbue the plot and characters with symbolism. (This man is my personal hero!)

They didn't just audition actors; they auditioned CAMERA CREW.

Speaking of auditions, all the auditions were... avant-garde. Actors weren't given scripts. They were asked to show up to workshops. It was like an hours-long vibe check. Only Charlize Theron (Furiosa) and Hugh Keays-Byrne (Immortan Joe) did not audition and were instead offered the parts.

Heath Ledger was Miller's ideal choice for Max

Tom Hardy, in character, spat at Armie Hammer during an audition

The fact that it rained in Broken Hill for the first time in 15 years just as they were about to shoot in the desert

The art department having the time of their lives making cars and weapons out of junk!

Whatever the fuck Nadia Townsend made the stunt men do when they workshopped the War Boys. Alternatively, all the stunt men sharing what it feels like to do character work for the first time.

Speaking of stunts, GUY NORRIS and CHRIS PATTON.

So many people fell in love on set...

Zoe Kravitz teasing Josh Helman and Nicholas Hoult for being nerds because they were having tea in their hotel room

Charlize Theron enthusiastically giving Nicholas Hoult a YES after he asked permission if Nux could spit back at Furiosa

GEORGE MILLER BRINGING IN THE EVE FUCKING ENSLER TO HOLD A WORKSHOP FOR THE WIVES (Ensler is the writer of the feminist play The Vagina Monologues).

Antoinette Kellerman and Charlize Theron speaking in Afrikaans on set

It was Charlize's idea to shoot the now-iconic scene of Furiosa screaming in the sand

Everyone giving the Vuvalini the respect their due as older female actors in the industry

EVERYTHING ABOUT SHYAM 'TOAST' YADAV

Charlize Theron (justifiably) yelling at Tom Hardy for being incredibly difficult on set. Nicholas Hoult explaining that being in the War Rig with the two leads was like being on a road trip with your parents who are fighting.

George Miller saying he found his movie to be PG-13. Lmao.

Legendary cinematographer John Seale mentioning that between him and George, there is 150 years of experience. Bless.

Charlize Theron being a class act throughout the entire book, honestly.

The crew sneaking out to shoot scenes even when Warner Bros did not want them to.

Warner Bros having the audacity to do their own cut of the film and then having said cut bomb at the test screenings. Vindication.

The entire crew each explaining what it was like at the Oscars

Academy Award winning editor Margaret Sixel. Icon.

#film stuff #i #mad max fury road #blood sweat and chrome #charlize theron #tom hardy #george miller #kyle buchanan #blood sweat & chrome

3 notes · View notes

moonstrider9904 · 2 years

Note

Hello Moon!!! Congratulations on 500!!!! That's such an amazing milestone! Thank you so much for doing love letters again! They're a wonderful way to celebrate your achievement and spread love through the fandom.

I'd like to send a love letter to @book-of-baba-fett

Iris, your writing is incredible! You've made me laugh, cry, get all sorts of horny on main, and even made me go laser-eyes Bernie! Whether you're writing a reader insert or for Talia, pairing with Rex, Fives, or Hunter, even if it's just fluff and yearning, your writing puts me in the moment so deep, I have to remind myself to come up for air.

You've also been a pillar of support to the creator community. Yours were some of the first interactions I had with a writer and I immediately felt welcomed and valued. You've worked hard to make the fandom an inclusive, positive space and I'm so grateful for that.

@book-of-baba-fett Love letter for you, Iris! Everything you write is unforgettable and beautifully crafted, thank you for sharing your writing with us!

Thank you for the touching submission, babycakes! @art-of-the-twistedstitcher! You and I have a mutual love of Rex and Talia for sure! And thank you for the kind words <3

500 follower celebration - a love letter to creators

#moon's 500 followers #these are still open!

0 notes

trecotrash · 4 years

Text

I Should Tell You

A/N: Logged on in the first time in forever and finished a draft.

Pairing: Trevor Collins x Reader

Description: I’m looking for baggage that goes with mine...I should tell you (I really don’t know how to put an actual description to this besides the two song lyrics)

Inspired by I Should Tell You from Rent

undefined

youtube

You stormed out of the restaurant and wrapped your coat around you.

“(Y/N), wait!” You kept walking as someone jogged up to you. “(Y/N), just-”

“Just what, Trevor?” you asked as you stopped in your tracks. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What do you mean?” You scoffed and continued you walk to God-knows-where. “(Y/N), what are you talking about?” he inquired as he caught up to you.

“Oh, you know, just the fact that you invited me to a company party only to ignore me all night long,” you argued. “Look, I get it if you’re not ready for a serious relationship, but that’s a pretty shitty thing to do to someone.” He grabbed your wrist and turned you around. “What?”

“I know,” he sighed. “I know what I did was shitty, and it’s no excuse. All tonight I’ve been trying. I swear. It’s just that...I’ve got a lot of baggage.”

“So does everyone else!” You took a deep breath. “Including me,” you added on. His eyes softened as he loosened his grip on you. Your gaze switched from him to the ground. “Life’s too short to waste any moment on dwelling on it.”

“Well, what’s your baggage?” he questioned.

“Why? It’s not like you care anyways,” you snorted.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “But what if I do?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe then I would tell you that I have shit luck when it comes to love.”

His hand slid down from your wrist to your hand, and he intertwined your fingers. He took a step closer. “What else?” You ran a hand through your hair and shook your head. “(Y/N), what do you mean by that?” he asked. “Because so far, you sound like every other 20-something-year-old.” You rolled your eyes at his statement. “Look, I’m not perfect, but at least I’m trying.”

“Are you really though? Because from what I’ve seen, you left me to fend for myself,” you told him. “You can’t expect me to tell you my fucked up life in exchange for you to feel better about yourself.” You pulled your hand away. “That’s not how this works.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know!” you screamed. He flinched and took a step back. “I’m just looking for baggage that goes with mine, okay?”

“(Y/N), I-”

“Save it,” you interrupted. “It’s clear that you’re not willing to share.” You turned around and started to walk.

“Wait,” he called out. “I should tell you that I’m a disaster.” You stopped in your tracks. “I have a whole story that I’ve never told anyone.

You sighed and turned around. “You have one minute.” He grabbed your hand and took you to a nearby bench.

After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to go over my story,” he admitted. “I forget how to begin it.”

“You have thirty seconds left, and I have yet to be in it,” you attempted to joke in order to help him feel a bit more comfortable. “If it makes you feel any better, that night when our apartment complex had a power outage, I blew the candle out just so I could get back in.“

He chuckled. “Well up until your candle burned my skin, I had forgotten how to smile.” You cracked a small smile. “If I’m being completely honest, I’m still trying to get to a place where I can trust someone,” he said.

“And if it’s anything to you, I’m still learning to trust people too,” you confessed. “What made you stop trusting people?”

“Just...my last girlfriend cheated on me,” he told you. “What about you?

“Every single person I’ve met essentially used me to either get to someone else or just for a good fuck.” He took your hand in his and squeezed it tight. “It’s sorta hard believing someone actually wants something real with you when everything before that has been so shitty.”

He took a deep breath. “(Y/N), I want you to know I’d never use you like that.”

“Trevor,” you sighed.

“I mean it,” he reiterated. “I would never hurt you.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. You find yourself looking out onto the street in front of you.

Soon enough, you both turned toward each other and said, “I should tell you-”

You bit your lip as he motioned toward you. “You first,” he said.

“It’s just, I like where this is going,” you breathed out, “but I’m afraid to fall.”

“Even if you know I’ll be there to catch you?”

You shook your head. “You’re missing the point. I’m afraid because I don’t know if you’ll be there to catch me,” you told him. “I just...Trevor-”

“(Y/N),” he interjected. “I won’t let you crash and hit the ground. We’ll never know where this goes unless we try though.”

You cocked your head to the side. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, let’s give this a real shot.”

#Rooster Teeth Reader Inserts #Achievement Hunter Reader Inserts #RT Reader Inserts #TrecoTrash Writes #trevor collins x reader #trevor collins imagine #Youtube

13 notes · View notes

aplaceforrtprompts · 5 years

Note

Festive prompts #5 & 6 with the Vagabond?

You saw Ryan’s jaw clench as you could hear the faint sound of carolers down the road. You grabbed his hand and for a brief moment, you could see him relax as he turned to look at you. He didn’t say anything as you turned and crossed the street.

“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” he finally said as you two were halfway down the block.

“Because as fun as it is to break you out of jail and watch the police squirm as we do so, let’s save it for a more fun crime like a bank job,” you said nonchalantly as you squeezed his hand.

He still didn’t look pleased, “Fine but the real crime is them inviting themselves over to random houses and singing off key.”

“Well, lucky for you we live in a penthouse and the only caroling we might get is from Jeremy at three in the morning drunk off his ass,” you pointed out.

That caused him to finally crack a smile and lean over and kiss the top of your head, “The only acceptable form of caroling.”

#ryan haywood x reader #ryan haywood imagine #ryan h x reader #ragehappy #rooster teeth imagine #rooster teeth reader inserts #rooster teeth inserts #rooster teeth reader insert #rooster teeth imagines #achievement hunter reader inserts #achievement hunter imagines #fahc #fahc imagine #fahc insert #fahc inserts #fahc imagines #RyanH #Anonymous

80 notes · View notes

short-honey-badger · 4 years

Text

I wrote this little thing after reading the Fake AH Headconnons that wonderful @sarahinara wrote up. So the idea goes to them. I hope you like it!

Copycat

In Los Santos, it was an unspoken rule that the civilians living there were not to be involved with any gang activity. The Fakes always made sure that this rule was followed and came down on anyone who thought to break it. So it came to your surprise when you are taken hostage by a man who looks similar to the Vagabond. Sure the mask was a little too different and the man was not as broad as what you thought he should be, but to your terrified mind you did not take in these differences right away.

To you, it was the Vagabond tying you up and shoving a gag into your mouth before locking you in the supply closet at your work. You force the tears that sprung in your eyes away and tried to focus on getting out of the restraints the man had forced you into.

The sharp crack of gunfire makes you jump and the tears drip from your eyes and make your vision blur. All you had wanted to do was eat your lunch while on break. Being shoved in a closet was not your idea of a good time.

The sound of gunfire went off further away this time and you hoped that a stray bullet would not somehow find your defenseless body. It had seemed like hours had passed before the gunfire finally stopped, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. When you hear approaching footsteps, you strain your ears to listen to the people talking.

“Search the place. Make sure that copycat didn’t hurt anyone else.'' The voice is vaguely familiar with a southern accent and it makes you wonder where you’ve heard it from before.

“Roger that, Kingpin.” another voice says and you slouch in relief. It was The Fakes! You knew that the gang who ran Los Santos would not hurt any civilians, but you were still confused on why the Vagabond had done this to you in the first place. However; now that you were not filled with terror, it was easy for you to recall the details of the man who bound you. The differences you had unconsciously noticed came to mind and you relaxed even more. What Ramsey had said was right-it was a copycat!

Your thoughts are interrupted when the door to the closet is opened and the man of your thoughts is suddenly standing in front of you. From the short distance you can see his blue eyes, while they are cold and calculated, you can’t help but to sag when he looks at you and begins to cut you lose.

“You alright?” he asks and you answer after wetting your lips from the dryness of the cloth.

“Yeah. Thanks for getting me outta there.”

You see his eyes crinkles at the edges behind his mask and the real Vagabond offers you his hand to lead you out from the closet. You were absolutely going to be telling your friends about this later.

Outside in the hallway the Kingpin and Beardo are speaking in hushed voices. When they turn in your direction, you can see a pool of red behind them and are quick to close your eyes. You are grateful when the Vagabond pulls you closer and begins to lead you away.

“Found this one in a closet. I’m getting her out of here.” You hear him say and Ramsey says something you can’t quite make out with being smothered in the leather of the man’s jacket.

Soon you can feel the outside air and Vagabond releases his hold on you. You open your eyes and turn to look at the man who saved your life to find him gazing back at you. Before you can open your mouth to thank him again, he is leading you away once more to an intimidating bike. “Let me give you a ride home.” he says and offers you a helmet he has stored in one of the saddle bags.

You obviously must be more traumatized than you think because instead of telling him no thank you. I can drive, you are taking the helmet and slipping it on your head. He mounts the bike first and soon you are clinging to his waist as the two of you zip out of the parking lot and out to the road. You yell directions to him over the wind and it feels like seconds when you see you see the familiar paneling of your modest house.

You get off the bike and hand the helmet back to the large man. He gives off a striking image sitting in his skull mask on the equally terrifying bike. It is no wonder why the other minor gangs and criminals are so terrified of the Vagabond. You give him another smile and hold yourself against the chill of the wind, “Thank you again. You saved probably saved my life.”

The Vagabond simply shrugs and says, “You shouldn’t be a part of any of our business and we shouldn’t be a part of yours.” you see his eyes crinkle behind his mask again before he gives you a two fingered salute and then he is gone. You watch until you can’t see him anymore before making your way inside your home. What a day.

#fanfic #reader-insert #achievement hunter #fake ah crew #fake ah ryan #achievement hunter au

23 notes · View notes

rtscrobbles · 4 years

Text

Taking requests! I may be slow getting to them but I'll try my best!

6 notes · View notes

mischi3f-manag3d · 4 years

Text

Ok hear me out. I keep thinking about the prank Rooster Teeth did on Achievement Hunter where they made a carnival in the AH office. And Chris had the Chrissing booth and people paid him $5 to not have to kiss him. But like, can someone write something to where he does get kissed by his office crush or something? Like a chris x reader situation. I would die. 🥺❤

#rooster teeth #rt insert #achievement hunter #chris demarais #chris demarais x reader #idea #🥺❤

2 notes · View notes

5lbsofsmarties · 5 years

Note

21 with Ryan Haywood please?? 😊

Word Count: 436

The sound of shouts and general misery is what drew you to the main room of Achievement Hunter. You’d been walking by and heard what sounded to be Michael and Jeremy screaming for some sort of assistance. Now, you knew that they were very obviously playing a game but you couldn’t help but open the door to take a peek inside just to see what it was that had gotten them all riled up.

In the office itself, the lights were mostly off and five monitors were pulled up to blank white pages which cast a bright light over the faces of the men sitting at those stations.

“Get him, Michael! The Tap Man is done for,” Jeremy screamed as he wildly tapped at his keyboard.

Michael was practically bouncing in his chair, “If I get closer he’ll vom on me, Jeremy!”

It seemed as though no one was paying attention to the door opening and closing as you stepped foot into the room. No one, except for Gavin. “Y/N!” he shouted, having spotted you in the capture of his webcam. He whipped around and looked at you with wild, frantic eyes.

“Go stop Ryan from killing us all. He’s already got me and Fiona, but Jeremy and Michael can make it if they get away!”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to process just what it was that he was saying. When it all finally clicked, you strolled across the room to where Ryan was sitting at his desk. You could see Jeremy’s character on the shoulder of Ryan’s as he made his way to a hook. “Ry? Darling,” you said softly as you bent enough to nearly eye level with him.

His eyes cut briefly from the screen to you but returned just as fast.

Reaching out, you grabbed his chin between your thumb and forefinger, and gently pulled his head to the side so that you could plant a kiss to his lips. You felt him relax and vaguely registered the four other people in the game cheering and shouting. You stayed there for a beat or two longer before slowly pulling away from him, smiling warming as you did so.

“Tap Man’s got the door! Go, go, go!”

Jeremy’s shouts seemed to finally connect to Ryan’s brain and his eyes widened comically before he snapped his head back to his screen. “Fuck! You… You…”

“YOU!” both Michael and Jeremy laughed as they escaped the level.

Ryan whipped around to look at you with a vaguely upset glint in his eyes, “You distracted me!”

“You killed my friends,” you shrugged.

#Anonymous #this is an answer #ryan haywood x reader #ryan h x reader #ryan haywood reader insert #achievement hunter imagine #achievement hunter fanfiction #achievement hunter fan fiction #ryan haywood fanfiction #ryan haywood imagine #ryan haywood fan fiction #rooster teeth fanfiction #rooster teeth imagine #rooster teeth reader insert #rooster teeth fan fiction #request fill #anonymous request

129 notes · View notes

kincreates · 5 years

Text

Long Days and Cuddle Piles

Reader insert. Fluff. Pack dynamics.

A heavy sigh leaves you as you collapse face first into the pack nest. Saying that today had sucked would’ve been the understatement of the century. Nearby someone else shuffles over and flops down next to you before cuddling up against your side. “Bad day?” You can now identify the person as Geoff. His voice is a little gruff, like he’d been awake for hours. Which, hopefully, wasn’t true but he’d only just gotten back into town from Australia today.

Wordlessly, you nod and wiggle around to face him. True to how he sounds, he looks exhausted. Heavy bags have taken up residence under his eyes. Brow creased slightly in concern as he studys you.

Tattooed hands slide over your waist gently and a shiver breaks down your spine. “Hmm, that’s no good. I guess I’ll just have to cuddle you until its better.”

You giggle softly and smile at him, eyes crinkling in happiness. “Oh no, how awful. I guess we better subject the rest of the pack to the same fate.”

A chuckle falls from his ever chapped lips in the same instant that running footsteps can be heard on the stairs. “I heard cuddles!” Jeremy’s voice shouts and then he’s diving into the nest and shoving himself between your and Geoff’s legs.

You laugh at his antics and Geoff’s half hearted bitching. Eventually the three of you settle with Geoff’s arms wrapped around you and Jeremy and Jeremy lying face first with an arm wrapped around you and Geoff each.

Slowly, the rest of the pack trickles in and cuddles into the growing pile. Gavin’s first, curling up in a ball against Geoff’s back. His face buried in a tattooed shoulder. Shortly after that is Michael, towel in hand as he drys his hair from his shower. “Oh fuck cuddle pile, I’m down.” And crawls into the nest to mold his chest along your back, strong arm wrapping around your waist and tangling his fingers in Jeremy’s brightly coloured hair.

About an hour after that Ryan gets home and, taking one look at the cuddle pile in the nest, decides whatever else he needed to do can wait and drops in behind Michael. Pressing gentle kisses to everyone's head. Jack follows him in and chuckles, tidying up the stuff that people had dropped upon getting home with a fond sigh of annoyance.

Geoff blinks blearily at him and hums, holding out a hand; “Leave it for now Jack, cuddle time. We’ll clean up later, promise.”

The bearded man in question studies us for a long breath before sighing and leaving the mess for later. He settles into the nest, spooned up behind Gavin; who lets out a soft breath and relaxes that much more.

Geoff sighs contently once everyone’s settled into the nest and Ryan chuckles. “And you said you wouldn’t miss us on your trip.” The tattooed man grunts “I’ve been wrong before.”

You giggle quietly where you’ve shoved your face against his throat. “Aw, knew you loved us Geoff.”

A low hum leaves him, “Of course I do. Love every one of you assholes.”

A smile breaks across your face and you settle in deeper into the nest. The darkness of sleep slowly pulls you under. The last thing you hear before dropping off into a peaceful sleep is the pack’s declarations of affection.

#Achievement Hunter #reader insert #geoff ramsey #jeremy dooley #jack pattillo #Gavin Free #michael jones #ryan haywood #pack dynamics #my writing

14 notes · View notes

rosegoldachievement · 5 years

Text

Where Good Girls Go To Die (Chapter 4)

pairing: fahc x reader

word count: 2,615

series: Where Good Girls Go To Die

summary: You’re not quite sure what compelled you to move to the infamous city of Los Santos, a ruthless playground for drug dealers, washed-up celebrities, and criminals alike. It was very different from your small hometown in the middle of nowhere, where nothing ever happened and you couldn’t even leave your house without running into someone you knew, but perhaps that was part of the attraction. But, after running into your ex-best friend, Jeremy Dooley, you began to think Los Santos wasn’t so bad as it seemed. Well, until the bank you worked at got robbed and you managed to get kidnapped all in the same week, leading you to become stuck in a penthouse with six very deadly males.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter four

It had been a few days since the robbery, and you had just entered your apartment building. The bank still hadn’t reopened because of the repairs and some security updates were still needed. You actually had begun to feel antsy from staying home. At first, you had debated on actually going out to a nightclub or something, but your introverted side settled on grocery shopping.

When you made it to your door, a confused expression took over your features. Your apartment door was slightly ajar and it appeared as if the lights were on inside. Your brain kicked into overdrive, trying to figure out what exactly had happened in your absence.

Maybe Mrs. Gunkhouse, your landlord, had stopped by to drop off the rest of the paperwork needed to move. But, she surely would have shut the door and turned off the light. Right? Or you just forgot to lock up before you had left. That was another probable reason.

Without having any other explanation of what could have happened, you decided to cautiously approach the cracked door and enter your apartment. Your eyes grew wide as you surveyed the scene.

Cardboard boxes were overturned, the items that they once contained sprawled out onto the floor. Anything that could be broken was shattered to pieces, including the vase you had bought the day prior. Your heart plummeted down into your stomach when you finally realized that you had been robbed. You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. Why now? Why you? As if things hadn’t gone to shit already since you had arrived in this town.

A countless amount of questions fluttered through your brain until you finally had one stabilized thought. I still have the card Miles gave me with his phone number. He had said to call if you had any more information about the bank situation, but you’re pretty sure he would help you with this robbery as well. All of the previous thoughts you had vanished and your only goal was to get that card.

You exited the living room and into the small hallway that housed the bathroom, your bedroom, and a closet. Thankfully, all of the boxes that once called this place home were now unpacked and thrown out, so you didn’t run the risk of dying on the way to your room.

However, when you did step foot into your room, you were too afraid to venture any further. Near your closet, was a man standing with his back turned to you and going through your belongings. It had just occurred to you that you weren’t robbed. No, there was someone currently still robbing you. You were frozen in fear for a second, but eventually, you had built up enough energy to begin stepping out of the room. Slowly and quietly, you backed up towards the door. Well, until you felt something hard collide against your back.

“Found her.” A gruff voice spoke from behind you. You tried to turn around to look at them, but a pair of strong hands clasped down onto your shoulders to keep you in place. The man who was going through your things previously turned around with a smile that made you uneasy.

“Hello, y/n.”

A sudden realization hit you, the feeling similar to a ton of bricks being thrown into your stomach. Your legs wobbled and if it wasn’t for the man holding your shoulders, you would probably be on the ground right about now. They didn’t come here to rob you. They came here for you.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words never came. Before you could, a rag was slipped over both your opened mouth and your nose. You stood like this for awhile, your struggle rendering useless as the man pushed the rag further into your face. Over time, your vision began to grow cloudy and your brain tripped over its own thoughts. After a few minutes, you had fallen unconscious.

When you woke up, you half expected to be greeted with the (favorite color) walls of your bedroom. But, instead, you were greeted white brick walls and a terrifyingly open space. It looked like to be some sort of warehouse, or maybe even a hanger. There was a dull ache that surrounded your wrist and thanks to the experience you had back at the bank, you quickly realized a cable tie had been secured around them. You searched your brain for answers, but the memories only flooded back into your mind once you heard a familiar voice.

“Oh, you’re up.”

You looked to your left to see the man who had kidnapped you, along with several others. They all held the same scowl and rather lean builds but varied in height. Matter of fact, two of the men who stood closer to the very right end of the group looked to be twins.

It took you a minute, but you found your voice. It came out shaky, but at least noise actually left your lips.

“Where am I? What do you want from me?”

He licked his lips before a grin came onto his face.

“You’ll find that out in a little bit, sweetheart.” He then turned towards the others. “Get in your places, we’re starting the next phase of the plan.”

The group began to disperse in different directions, but the man who had called you sweetheart and another man still stood in front of you. You could only assume the other man was the one who had grabbed you in the bedroom.

“Ready?” The second guy looked towards the first man, who only nodded. This prompted him to turn to you. “You keep your mouth shut.” You noticed him push back his shirt slightly and grab hold of something. Your body immediately wretched when your (eye color) eyes landed upon the handgun. “Or things are going to go south real fast.” You wordlessly nodded, fear manifesting in your stomach.

The first man dug a phone out of his pocket and pressed a few buttons, initiating a call. It wasn’t until he had adjusted his grip on the cell and put it on speaker that you noticed that it was your phone. The line rings twice before someone picks up.

“Hello?”

You blink in shock. Was...was that Jeremy?

“Hello, Jeremy. You don’t know me, but I know you.”

“Where’s y/n?” You had never heard Jeremy’s voice this cold before.

“She’s right next to me, but I’m afraid she’s a little bit too...tied up…. to speak with you at the moment. But I’m sure she’d be more than willing to talk once my group and I get what we want. Well, if she lives that long, that is. Give Geoff the phone.”

The fear that you had started to feel moments ago increased and your mind began to race.

“If you hurt her, I swear…”

“Time is ticking, Dooley.”

You heard Jeremy take a deep breath, but that was the last clear sound that came from his end of the phone call. Some noises came through the microphone after, but it was in the form of indistinguishable movements and muffled voices. Eventually someone was handed the phone and took over the conversation .

“You wanted to speak to me?” The man who you assumed was ‘Geoff’ spoke. There was something familiar about the voice, but you couldn’t exactly place where you had heard it before.

“Six months ago, you stole away our territory and gave it to some young bucks with nothing to their name.”

A scoff came from the other end of the line.

“That’s what this is about? Look, kid. We didn’t steal anything. I’ve known Joel Heyman for years. He gave the territory over to the Fakes because of his retirement.”

“It wasn’t his to give!” The man snapped before regaining his composure. “You boss types are all the same, aren’t cha? You all just see Sandy Shores as a territory to control. To us, it’s so much more. Some of us have friends and family there. It’s home. But you guys didn’t think about that when you laid off all these guys, huh? Didn’t think about most of them had criminal records and can’t put food on the table anymore for the people they love?”

“Look, man, I’m sorry. That sucks. But I can’t give you the spa-”

“We don’t care about that anymore, Ramsay.”

“Then why the fuck did you set thi-”

“We want money. Forty thousand, to be exact. And don’t say you don’t have it, because we know you do. Bring it to the old paper warehouse on fifth by midnight or the girl gets a bullet in her skull.” With that, the man ended the call and tosses your phone onto a nearby folding table.

Two hours later, the front door of the warehouse opened to reveal Jeremy and an older looking man wearing a suit and covered in tattoos. You guessed that this was Geoff, the man who was on the phone with your kidnapper. Behind them were a man with red hair wearing a brown leather jacket and a man with a beard in a Hawaiian shirt, both holding briefcases. You felt as if there was something familiar about the man with the red hair, but the sound of your captor’s hands slamming against the folding table made you jump.

“Wow, you all actually showed up!”

As they approached, you locked eyes with Jeremy. This was probably the most pissed you had even seen him, but his brown eyes softened when they glanced at you.

“We have your money, let the girl go.” Geoff spoke, locking his tattooed hands behind his back.

“Not so fast, Ramsey.” Your captor smiled. He held out his hand and did a ‘gimme’ motion. “Let me see the cash so I know you’re not jipping us.” Geoff nodded over to the redhead and the bearded man, who both took a step forward and placed the briefcases on the floor. They kicked over the money and slid it across the floor in order to ensure they wouldn’t case any alarm. Your captor looked towards his companion, who went over and picked up the suitcases. After opening it and looking over the cash, he nodded.

“Everything’s here.”

“We held up our end of the deal.” Geoff commented as he put his hands into his pockets. “Are you going to keep your promise?”

Your captor took a few steps to the side so he was positioned directly behind you and placed a cold hand onto your shoulder. You twitched at the sudden contact, but kept your mouth shut.

“Well, I would love to, but I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans.” You felt something cold and metal press against the side of your head, instantly causing your heart to drop. “It’s only fair that since you guys took away something so special to us, we do the same.” Tears threatened to spill as your observed the faces of the four men in front of you. Jeremy seemed tense, but one look from Geoff seemed to calm his nerves. You questioned this, but the chaos that erupted seconds later overtook your thoughts.

“I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this but fine.” Geoff sighed. “Go ahead, Ryan.”

Before anyone could react, a bullet zoomed through one of windows and hit your captor in the head. You tried not to wretch as something wet splashed onto your face. The sound of gunshots overtook the area as Geoff, the redhead, and the bearded man were now all armed and fought against the remaining people. Within the chaos, Jeremy dashed over towards you and untied your restraints.

“Jeremy, what the fuck is happening?” You asked in a panic tone. He casted you a sympathetic look before shaking his head.

“I’ll explain later. Right now we gotta find cover, okay?” You blinked in confusion , straining to hear him over the gunshots, but nodded as he grabbed your hand. “Jack, cover me!”

Jack, the bearded man, peered over from the crate he was using as cover and called out.

“Got it!”

“On the count of three, we’re going to run over to that crate, okay?” Jeremy gestured to the crate that was in between the ones Jack and the redhead were using.

“O-okay.”

“One! Two! Three!” On cue, you and Jeremy both ran over to the box and hid behind it. “Stay down until it’s all clear.” He commanded as he retrieved the gun that was previously hidden on his body. You watched with a mixture of terror and awe as peeped over the side of the box and begun to fire. This was around the time when you noticed two things. One a man with a black skull mask and another man who you couldn’t exactly see because of his position behind a forklift had entered the fray on your side. Two, you felt like your heart could explode at any moment.

A few minutes went by before Geoff called out to the group.

“How many more are left?”

“Three, maybe four!” Jack answered before the redhead also chimed in.

“Two guys just escaped out the back door!”

“Michael and Gavin, go take care of it.”

“Got it Geoff!” A thick, British accent responded. “Let’s go boi!”

“Just shut up and come on.” The redhead, Michael, ran out of the back door with the other man following him. You squinted in remembrance, there was definitely something familiar about this. Jeremy noticed your reaction, because once the gunshots ceased, questioned your expression.

“You okay? It’s safe to stand up now, by the way.”

“W-what? Y-yeah. As much as I can be in this situation, yeah.” You stated while standing up. Your eyes locked onto one of the dead bodies that laid a few feet away. Your stomach churned at the sight. You quickly averted your gaze to the Michael and the other man re-entering the building with distraught expressions.

“We lost them at an busy intersection.” Michael announced.

“Do you think they left to get back up?” Jeremy asked, causing the group in front of you to exchange looks.

“We can’t keep standing around here, just in case they did.”

“What are we going to do with her?” The Brit jerked a thumb over in your direction.

“Doesn’t she have a house or something we can drop her off at?” Michael commented. You quickly decided to jump in, feigning confidence. You didn’t exactly want to confront the group of men you had just saw kill several people, but it had to be done.

“My apartment is where they found me. I came home from shopping and they were snooping around my room, waiting for me.”

“Then she’s definitely not going back and we’re certainly not leaving her alone since there’s two guys out there at know she can be used as an asset against u-”

“Cool your jets, Lil’ J.” Geoff sighed as he looked around the room. “I agree, it’s not safe for her right now. You care about her, thus we care about her. Let’s take her back to the penthouse.”

“And how are we going to do that? The penthouse location is supposed to be a secret to everyone who isn’t FAHC.” Jack looked towards Geoff for an idea, but before he could answer, the masked man spoke up.

“I have an idea.”

You suddenly felt something thump the back of your head. As you lost consciousness, you felt yourself fall into someone’s arms, presumingly Jeremy’s, and the group letting out a series of groans.

“God damn it, Ryan!”

@bananatron / @killerclownsandredballoons / @littlebabyblue33 / @mochaandalchemy / @skatedp / @crazy-mad-insane / @yallgotkik

please message me if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list!

56 notes · View notes

chezzkaa · 5 years

Text

Numb pt 26

Click here for more Numb content OR JOIN THE NUMB DISCORD

Lumberjack AU Pairing: Ryan Haywood x Reader WC: 2100+

Date posted: 20 Jan 2018

A/N: Y’all can thank @trevorcollumns for this part actually being completed. She’s become a nagging motivation and I love her to pieces for keeping me inspired with this fic. She refuses to let my interest move elsewhere, and I’m really thankful. Cya soon, my bitch. You can nag me in person soon!

The skull stares at you. It’s black empty sockets screaming with a loneliness that is not only striking, but fearful. Like the creature it once was continues to lament over its last moments alive. Jaw dislocated and limp, but cries so loud they’re deafening.

Ryan is right, the remnants of the animal before you hadn’t fallen to an ordinary predator.

The grooves carved into it’s features wander like footpaths traipsed through familiarity, smooth and deliberate when unwrapping the skin from bone. Intelligent. Not clusters of claw marks in sets of threes and fours, and not the aftermath of clumsy teeth trying to keep a hold - but created with a precision that you just can’t place.

Can’t place, at least, until an outstretched finger touches the bone. All at once the base of your skull is left searing, a prickling pain that glides smoothly up the centre of your head, right over until coming to sting at the bridge of your nose. Along with it comes a heat that circles your neck, the hollow of your throat closing with the pressure of unseen fingers.

“Fuck!” You recoil instantly, shuddering and hoping to pass the discomfort off as a reaction to the cold. The word slips from your lips before you can catch a breath, Ryan placing a cautionary hand against your lower back to stop you from toppling out of the crouch you’re folded into. “You’re right, this isn’t an animal… But why wouldn’t whoever it is take the head?”

“Y/N, come on.” Ryan gives you a concerned look. “Why’re you freaking out? I was kidding about the murder mystery thing. It’s probably just left over from a camper who needed a good meal.”

“In this weather?”

He doesn’t have a response.

Letting the hand he has against your back guide you into sitting, your legs guard the sides of the skull. You can’t help following the grooves; pressing their image against the memories you have of those adorning the window frames of Motbury, and decorating the bodies you’re now too familiar with.

“Why,” you ask again, reaching out to the bone again and pulling it into your lap, “would someone meticulously remove the head of a creature, skin the skull, and not take it with them? Surely a hunter wouldn’t chop off and clean the head before taking the body away. That doesn’t make sense.”

He struggles, uncertain of what answer you might possibly want. Taking the skull from you, Ryan turns it over in his hands, examining the clean separation that had seen it removed from the spine in the dimming evening light. “Well,” he says, “maybe he didn’t need it.”

The feeling of cobblestone pounds against the soles of your feet. Hard and aching in the cold. Bitter with every slap of your shoes as you run. The orange glow of streetlights trace the path you carve through the town, chasing the shadows you leave behind and playing in your hair. Scampering between your legs and leaping across the stone you bound over. Glinting against the black ice that has already managed to trip you twice, ground kissing the skin it’s left bruised across your hip and thigh.

Ryan’s confusion still rings in your ears. His alarmed expression, of which you had left in the snow as you’d rocketed to your feet and started moving, haunts the darkened spaced between houses and shop fronts.

“What, Y/N? What’s wrong - wait, where’re you going? Y/N, slow down. Y/N-”

He’d snatched out, crumpling to his knees as you’d darted away.

Instead of explaining, you’d thrown him an incoherent response and reminder for him to join dinner that night with nothing else on your mind besides racing thoughts and a need to find Detective Dooley. To hurl definitive evidence at his feet and demand that he acknowledge the grooves that match those found clinging to buildings. To force him to address the links exposed by the timeline you and Michael had slaved over. To make him see, once and for all, that the removal of the head and the slaughter of animals oh so long ago has to mean something. It just had to.

It had to.

The skull, minor in its existence, brings the three factors they’d been scratching their heads over together with clumsy a bow. Solidifying the concept of a copycat killer so much so that Jeremy will be unable to argue, and parading the fact that that whoever had been killing livestock hadn’t upgraded to children, but had kept a clear line between those he hunts. One for food, and one for fun.

It isn’t much, but it consumes you. Taking over your being and vibrating in your limbs, stretching tight across your icy cheekbones. But it’s more than the relief of a definitive copycat that spurs you on. Ryan’s comment had stirred something inside you. Flipped a switch and brought blinding possibilities you hadn’t yet considered.

If the killer didn’t take the skulls of animals because he didn’t need them or want them - he must have had a reason for collecting the heads that he does.

Your rampant thoughts, along with your being, collide into the figure in front of you. So dizzy in your mind that it takes you a moment to register the shock, the man is already grunting and skirting past. Swallowed again by the night. A shake of your head sees the panic dislodge and recognition take its place.

“Jeremy?” you call, waving a hand above your head and stumbling after him. “Hey, wait up. You’re just who I’m looking for.”

He doesn’t. Instead his head tucks deeper into his coat, shoulders hunched. The quickness of his pace is hard to match, but you manage.

"Slow down, J, I need to talk to you," you plead, catching his arm. But he still doesn't stop, shaking free and powering on into the snow. Recoiling, stung, you jam your hands into you pockets. "Are you kidding me? C’mon man, stop messing around. This is important."

“Then why don't you go and tell Ryan?”

The words burn, lashing out and leaving your skin raw.

“Excuse me?” you demand faintly, “what does Ryan have to do with anything?”

"I just figured," he starts, finally facing you with an expression set in stone, "that considering how close you've gotten, he's all you need."

“I'm trying to talk to you about the case, Detective. You know, the one where kids are dying? And you think now's a good time to go digging around in my personal life?”

"Why not?" he asks hollowly, and you take a step back. “Why shouldn't I treat you like everyone else in this town? I’d be covering all the bases like you want me to.”

“Jesus Christ, Jeremy!” you snap, infuriated at the man who cowers from your anger for a brief moment. “What the fuck is your problem? Just because you fancy Ryan doesn’t mean you get to be an ass to me!”

“Fancy Ryan?” He almost laughs, but stops himself, instead settling for bewilderment. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Stop it.” Your eyes narrow at his defence, in no mood for his denials. A sharp gesture of your hand cuts his confusion, letting it fall noisily to the floor. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” You’re seething, body desperate to pace and yet feet remaining rooted to the cold, frozen ground. Through the dark you struggle with his expression, equally hurt by his scowl as he is with your own. “Jon already told me that you’re interested in him. Which is fucking fine, and I get that you’re hurting in this situation. But don’t you dare go around being an absolute asshole to both of us, just because you can’t get what you want. We have a job to do, and I’m your friend.”

He’s shaking his head, eyes wide and mouth pouted open. This time he can’t stop the laugh, harsh and mocking in the night’s biting air. “You’re kidding? You think I don’t like you guys hanging out because I’m in love with Ryan?”

You stop, accepting his simple explanation with a tight nod. You resist the urge to shuffle guiltily, uncomfortable with confronting his feelings with such volatile accusations.

Jeremy’s jaw sets, fists balling by his side while he turns bitter. “Oh, you’ve caught me. I’m interested in him, alright? Really really interested.”

A rattling sigh bounces from your lungs, falling flat in the snow. You knew this would be inevitable, and sucking in a breath and as much confidence as possible, you start the conversation you’d rather not have. “Look, Jeremy, Ryan and I-”

“I’m interested in him because he’s a person of interest, you fucking moron.”

The words stop, clinging to your tongue and scampering back down your throat before you can comprehend his vicious growl. “A person of interest? You mean-”

“I mean that you’ve been trying to date a god damn murder suspect.”

“Oh.” The shock expelled from your lips forms with a gentle pop, and with it his expression softens. Regretfully he gathers his apologies, rubbing them comfortingly into your arm. Tears well, but you don’t let them fall, feeling them thicken in your throat. “Wow J. I- I just… I can’t believe this.”

“I know, Y/N, it was hard for me to accept too, but-”

You jerk away, skin stinging from his touch. Recoiling, a few stumbles steps see the fountain greet the back of your knees, accusations like daggers. “I can’t believe you’d think your closest friend could be a part of this. That he could hurt children. After losing his own, for god sakes. What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s like - It’s like you don’t even know him.”

“Yeah, sure, lost his own, wha- you’re not listening, are you? Because you just obviously know him better, huh? All that time you’ve spent together, all those nights stumbling home arm in arm - yeah, I fucking know about that because we’ve got men watching his every fucking move so he doesn’t kill another kid - it must mean that you know him better than me? Bearing in mind, Y/N, you were the one that dated a god damn serial killer and refused to accept it, not me. And it got people killed.”

Your spine straightens, bite so lethal he shrinks away. The sharp breath sears through your lungs, mind reeling from the night that haunts your dreams and forced you to run from all that you love as he jams it into your hands. It’s your turn to ball your fists, clutching your coat close with the enraged whip of wind. It takes all you have not to launch across the space and punch him, to refrain from falling to your knees and screaming like there’s no tomorrow.

When you speak your voice is low, far more threatening than intended, but appreciated all the same. “Yeah, I guess I do know him better.”

Jeremy wants to snap back, but you don’t let him.

“I must do, because I know what type of person he is, Jeremy. And he’s a damn good one. And I also know what obsessing over a case does to people like us. I was too blind to see Charlie for who he was, because I was too busy focusing on someone else. Someone innocent, remember? I chased him to the point where he couldn’t handle the hounds and killed himself. Do you remember that, huh? Remember when we charged into his apartment and found him hanging, then got the call that my sister was dead all in the same hour?”

Jeremy doesn’t speak, as frozen as the world around him. If he could swallow his comment, he would. He’d forgotten the raw hurt, the agony in your eyes whenever you’d talk about your sister - and hadn’t realised it was still as fresh as ever. He can’t look at you anymore, glaring at his fingers as they slowly blotch purple. And you don’t look at him, either. Can’t stand his guilt, can’t stand seeing him the way he was all those years ago, watching your sister’s blood coat his hands after he’d done all he could to save her.

“I won’t let you make the same mistakes I did, Jeremy. I won’t let you drive yourself, or Ryan, into madness, just because you don’t know how to stop and see a bigger picture.” You turn to leave, stopping only to spit your final remark into the street you’re desperate to escape. “Oh, and once you’re done condemning Ryan you might want to talk to him, seeing as he’s just found the evidence we need to link the killer as a copycat to the Widow of the Woods story.”

15 notes · View notes