#me. i been fooled by my own oc. that i wrote as someone whos a good actor to fool nearly everyone. which included me apparently | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alicewonderao3 · 6 months

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Title: The Fool

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Haley Hotchner, oc female character.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x oc female character

Summary: What happens when you run into your boyfriends ex wife on a date? Should you really go confront her about how she’s messing with his feelings before you talk to your boyfriend?

Word count: 1,391

Authors note: Okay, so I was inspired by another song for this one, as usual. I’m still running with the whole Haley cheated on Aaron theory, at least for this story. I wrote this quickly and barely edited it, so I had no beta and all spelling and grammar mistakes are mine. I borrow the song lyrics from the song that inspired me: ‘The fool,’ by Lee Ann Womack. I don’t own the song. Tagging @sadgirlzluvdilfs

Warnings: slight angst, some fluff, mentions of cheating.

It was a rare Friday night off, no new cases, nothing urgent, so Aaron had picked me up for a date. I'd slipped into his favorite dress of mine, a gorgeous green sundress with tiny white flowers scattered across the fabric. The hem hits my thighs, and with my dark curls left loose around my face, pulled back a flowery clip, my honey-brown eyes sparkle as he leads me into the nice restaurant.

It's also a night he doesn't have Jack, so I already know he's gonna take me back to his place, which will be nice, a rare night sleeping with him. We order our drinks and as we sit, someone from the FBI notices Aaron as they walk by. He gives me an apologetic look as he gets pulled into some shop talk, and I stand up, letting him know I'm heading to the bathroom while he talks.

On my way back from the bathroom, I pass through the bar area and spy her. Haley. Aaron's ex is there, a new man on her arm. One of many, anyway. She throws her head back and giggles and flirts and my heart and mind have their internal battle. I only know her from pictures I've seen of her in Aaron's apartment, pictures he keeps because Jack's in them.

Aaron and I have been dating for a few months now. He's a handsome man, reserved to those who don't know him, but his love of musicals and his warmth drew me in. Along with those big brown eyes of his. He keeps telling me it's not the right time to meet Haley yet. He's barely a year out of his divorce, sure, and I know enough to know it wasn't a good one.

You don't know me, but I know who you are. Mind if I sit down?

I know I shouldn't approach her, but I can't help it, tapping her on the shoulder, as her date goes to the bathroom. She turns to face me, her eyes landing on mine. I take a deep breath and introduce myself. She shakes my hand, her voice hesitant. "Alice, right, you're dating my husband, if memory serves." She says, and I can't help but clear my throat. "Ex-husband."

My words fall into silence, and she glances around me. "Where is Aaron?" I can hear the want in her tone, and the excitement as she fixes her hair. "He's at our table, still," I say and I watch her noticeably deflate at my words. "Can I buy you a drink?" I ask her, and she nods. She offers me the chair to her date has vacated, and I buy her and myself a drink.

If you've got a minute, I'll buy you a drink, I've got something to say...

The bartender brings it to us, and she eyes me as she sips it, her eyes narrowing as she takes in my outfit. We make pointless small talk about Jack and the weather before she says, "What do you have to say to me, Alice?" I swallow down my drink and meet her eyes. "You're leading Aaron on."

She doesn't say anything to me. She doesn't deny it. She just flicks her blonde hair back, her eyes meeting mine. "So? He was mine first." I nod, meeting her eyes. "I'm not disputing that. But as much as he's trying to move on, you're making it hard for him. What, is he supposed to pine over you forever, while you go on dates?" I ask her, setting my glass down, my honey-brown eyes meeting hers.

I'm the fool, in love with the fool, who's still in love with you...

I sigh. "Haley. You divorced Aaron. I can't pretend to know why, since Aaron won't tell me, but I can guess. Sure, he says his job had a hand in it. The late nights, the missed anniversaries, the long periods away. But I know that's not all of it." I said, my words falling into silence.

I know she knows what I'm getting at when she takes a sip of her drink and sighs. "What's your point, Alice? If I want to flirt with him I will." She says, and I sigh. "You cheated on him, Haley. He may think I don't know, but I do. I can see it. I don't have to be a profiler to see how you hurt him."

She stays silent, waving her hand for me to continue. "I see it. It's in the way he holds me closer when men approach me when we're out together. It's in the way he freezes when I get a text message or a phone call. It's in the way he's constantly checking in on me, making sure I know how much he cares about me. Sending me small things. You hurt that man, and you expect to just keep him on string, forever?"

I know love, is a fragile thing. And I'm trying hard to make it last. But it ain't easy, holding onto my dreams when he's holding onto the past...

She sighs. "It's not fair, Haley, and you know it. I love Aaron. He means the world to me but he won't take that step and tell me he loves me, even if he feels it. You don't love him, that's a fact. I've seen you around. But you hold Aaron's heart in the palm of your hand, and it's breaking right in two."

Just one more thing, before I go. I'm not here to put you down...

I see a sort of guilt on her face, as I finish my drink, unaware of Aaron, standing behind me, his eyes moving between me and Haley as I pour my heart and soul out. "You say that you're moving on, that you're in love with someone else. It's cruel to tease Aaron that way, holding the promise of your love in front of his face when you don't mean it. He doesn't deserve that. No one does. Let him move on. Let him be happy, for crying out loud. We both know no one deserves that more than he does."

Haley speaks, for the first time since I started speaking seriously to her. "I know." It's just two words, but I don't attribute it to the fact that Aaron's standing behind me. "I know you love him, Alice. And you're right. It's cruel. Especially when you consider what I did to him. He didn't deserve that."

I nod. It's not a lot, but it's something. "I should go. Aaron's probably wondering where I am." She nods. "See you around, Alice. Oh, and good luck."

I turn around and there he is, looking at me. For a second, I wonder how much he heard. He says nothing to me, just pulls me close, and wraps his big strong arms around me. I can smell the cologne he's wearing as he holds me, his voice a whisper in my ear. "I love you, Alice."

I look up at him, pulling back. "I love you too, Aaron." I know he's heard everything when his hands cup my face, as he stares down at me like I'm the most precious thing in his world. "So much, you don't even realize it." He says, his voice is husky and soft. "I'm not holding onto the past, Alice. I'm looking forward to my future, to our future."

His words make me tear up a little, and he wipes a tear that slips down my face. "Now, let's go have dinner, I wanna take my favorite girl back to my place and show her just how much she means to me." I lean up and kiss him, my lips soft and warm on his, as his large hands hold me close.

He guides me back to the table, and as we walk out, I see Haley at the bar with her date. She's still flirting, still giggling, but as her eyes meet mine, I see a sort of understanding flash through her eyes. She nods, holding her drink up as she spots my small hand entwined with Aaron's. She doesn't acknowledge Aaron standing beside me, just smiles, and turns her attention back to her date.

I'm the fool, in love with the fool, who's no longer in love with you...

#aaron hotchner 💞#criminal minds #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner drabble #inspired by music

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softlyapocalytpic · 1 year

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Embodiment of love

@pchberrytea tagged me!! And then my partner had to help me take it because I couldn't figure out how to do it well??? Its fun and cool they just do uquiz better.

I tag @maxiseden since I think this would be fun for your blorbos and @plasma-packin-mama cuz I love Delilah & Arcade and would love to see what they get!! And! Copying Tea here, if you want an excuse to be tagged for this then CONGRATS. It's you. You've been tagged. You're it.

Also, I guess some spoilers for pairings for my characters...?

💕 RULES: Take this quiz for your OC/ship.

Without further ado:

Amy/Butch

[ love is beautiful because it's built deliberately ] when casey mcquinston wrote "that's the choice. i love him, with all that, because of all that, on purpose. i love him on purpose" and when jenny slate tweeted "i just want someone to grab my little face and scream on purpose, on purpose i am going to care about you" and when jodi picoult wrote "after fifteen years, love isn't just a feeling. it's a choice" and when the good place said "if soulmates do exist, they're not found they're made"

Man this one HURTS. It hurts in the long term, and it hurts in the short term. They communicate terribly, they understand each other better than most people understand them, they argue a lot and also are the bestest friend the other has ever had. I've said this for a while, but if things had panned out differently these two would've been best friends all the way back in the vault. And this invokes all that for me, but also. In context of where they end up by the end of the story... It hurts so so so bad. They never stop choosing each other even long long after.

They're always touching each other, holding each other, putting their hands on the other. A punch, a hug, holding each other's face. Hands holding, Butch arm around Amy's shoulder, Amy always ready and willing to hold Butch when he needs it. The world is shitty, but they're together.

Sunshine/Half Pint

[ devotion: love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person, activity, or cause ] when ruth said to naomi "where you go, i will go, and where you stay, i will stay. your people will be my people, and your God my God" and when hozier sang "i'll be the dreadful need from the devotee that drove [orpheus] underground" and when deathcab for cutie sang "if there's no one beside you when your soul embarks, i will follow you into the dark"

So if Butch/Amy hollowed me out, this one knocks me in the teeth and guts me. YES. YES. THIS IS THEM. These courier dorks will follow each other to the very ends of earth, to hell and back again, will be by each other's side till the very end and beyond. They die by each other's side. Literally. It doesn't matter what happens this two are soulmates eternally devoted to each other.

They are "I love you in this life and when I'm someone else entirely" and "I love you when you burn down the world", "I love you when you're a monster", "we're monsters together".

Leo/MacCready/Hancock

[ love as gentleness after a lifetime of cruelty ] when ocean vuong said "sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined" and when pablo neruda said "like a jar you housed the infinite tenderness and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar" and when anais mitchell wrote "all i've ever known is how to hold my own, and now i wanna hold you, too”

crying, actually crying

This is the boys. This is the boys all the way. They're all so fucked up and hurt and love each other so much, and yeah they're TENDER. When I think of Leo/Hancock it's such gentle touches and adoring looks and holding each other gently. It's softly spoken words. It's staring into each others eyes. Mac/Leo is sharing the weight of a trauma, it's defending the other to the other, it's giggles and warmth by the fire as they help the other unwind. Hancock/Mac is camaraderie. It's being debaucherous fools who wind up holding each other. It's having their arms wrapped around each other and laughing.

Hopefully there will be a pt.2 with more members of the quartet (Sunshine/Half Pint/Deacon/Danse) (ik ik ik trust me it WILL work even if I forget why sometimes) (we've gone to crackship hell and we WILL radicalize Danse). Maybe for Mae/Takeshi? Maybe for Mae and someone else? A lot maybes.

#ship tag #sunpint #butch/amy #Leo/Mac/Hancock

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bellmo15-blog · 3 months

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I've Lost My Passion For Writing

The title of this journal isn’t a joke. I have seriously started to lose my passion that I once had for writing.

I’m sure by now a lot of you have noticed I haven’t been writing any stories of any kind. Or at least anything substantial. You could say that those two stories I have shared about those really awkward plays I saw as a child or the only time I’ve ever actually gotten to play on a real Gamecube while in hospital count as stories but those are more just me retelling events form my past that have stuck with me. And there’s a good reason I haven’t been writing a lot. I’ve HAVE tried to write proper stories. About my OC’s, about fictional characters I like, but I always never get very far into it and sometimes just stop entirely or get distracted by other things I have more fun doing. And there’s a good reason for THAT two. I just haven’t been enjoying writing as much. It’s one of those things I have slowly been coming to terms with a lot recently. In fact the only long form things I’ve even managed to get written up the past few months have both been satirical and if you couldn’t tell from how I wrote those, my way of venting about how modern critics are obsessed with hyperbole and being overly angry and also poking fun at that “Nintendo has FORGOTTEN about Super Mario” video because nothing say’s Nintendo has “””forgotten””” a property like releasing so many games in that franchise in the Switches now almost 7 year life cycle.

To give you an idea of just how bad this has been, the last story about one of my OC’s I wrote was back in April of last year. It was a parody of the Peaches song from the Super Mario Bros movie but sung from the perspective of my girl Mikaela and she was singing about Nessa from Pokemon Sword and Shield as I do have the two in a relationship and loved that part from the film. And before that the last proper full story I wrote was in September of 2022 of Tom Nook from Animal Crossing finally being fed up with some people not paying off their loans at all and taking action tasking my sona Michael with collecting the debt from one of those residents who originally started as a joke OC I made for an April Fools day joke. That’s a pretty big gap to have as someone who is a writer which is actually why I originally tried experimenting with Micro Stories at first since they were only about like two or three paragraphs long and didn’t take much effort out of me. But even those I started to fall out of wanting to do.

So why have I stopped having a passion for something I use to love doing ever since I first started on DA? Well, it’s not for one single reason but actually a couple.

1; I’ve started to find it boring! No matter what I want to write, no matter how much I love the idea and no matter how much free time I end up getting so that I can do a lot of writing, usually about like 5 or 10 mins in I get board of writing and more often than not I end up thinking to myself “I would honestly rather be playing video games or watching a show I’ve been meaning to watch.” Plus, I can only write “this character said this” or describe what someone looks like or is wearing so much before I get bored.

2; Written work is something I’ve always struggled with anyway. I grew up on TV and video games and very little written stuff which might sound ironic coming from me but it’s true. I once tried reading one of the Harry Potter books as a child and I got one chapter in before thinking to myself “I’d honestly rather be watching the movie that’s based off this book.” Hell, I even tried reading the in game books in Skyrim but when I did I would always go “I’m spending my time in this game doing THIS instead of going on an epic and exciting quest?” The only time as a child I’ve ever read a book all the way though that wasn’t one of those ones that only had like two short paragraphs on each page and was like 15 pages long was in 2009 when a friend let me read an old Choose Your Own Adventure styled Super Mario book but that only because it was on a school trip, we were on a long train ride that took several hours and we weren’t allowed to bring our handheld games systems with us so there was practically nothing else to do. It’s a problem I have been trying to fix for many years and sometimes I do read stories on DA when I get the chance, but written works just always been something I’ve struggled with even as a child.

I mentioned before that this is an issue that my passion for this has been dwindling for a while and I’ve tried to find ways to get around this. At first it was writing little short stories to attach to my pics. I was mainly inspired to do this by the likes of other’s like IncredibleIntruder who like me is into hypnosis and especially belly dancing but also puts little short stories in the descriptions of the stuff he commissions and uploads to his page and still continues to do so to this day. I HAD experimented with this kind of stuff before coming across there content but it wasn't until I started seeing some of there commissions I really started to take my stories for my pics seriously. And I’d continue to do this for a lot of my commissions as well. Even if it was a pic the artist didn’t give me permission to upload like with that Symbiote Shantae and Rottytops pic I’d still write a story for it! And eventually, I just only wrote up a short synopsis of what happened in leading up to what we see in a pic in its description because I wasn’t having any fun with these stories anymore. Which again, sucks that I feel that way because I do think about this stuff a lot. Especially the pics based around my self insert sona, something I’m extremely proud to have created, because the whole reason that exists was born of decades of me having a hyper active imagination and always imagining myself actually in the worlds of the games I play, especially ones that let you play as customized characters such as Wii Sports Resort or Mario Kart Wii, and making up my own little Kingdom Hearts styled crossover universe but wasn’t just relegated to stuff belonging to a single property… And also the lore not being a headache to get used to.

For example, the pic of my sona becoming an Ankha Drone I had this whole story planned out while it was getting worked on of them walking into Ankha suddenly in their home on their island with two other Ankha Drones and would be the ones converting my sona into one of them. Then there’s the one of them in the coils of Naga Shantae which would have been right after an encounter with Risky Boots and both my sona and Shantae being very exhausted and Shantae offering some nice and snug coil hugs until we were both ready to head home. And the Techno Drone pic where the story would of involved them knowing about SuperTechno (the artist of that pic who’s sona turns characters into fembots) hypnotizing ladies into being his Fembots while still extending it to males, not being aware of the fact that many of the Fembots in Techno’s army were kidnapped, asking if he could allow himself to be a drone with one of the main reasons he wants this and allows himself to be hypnotized a fair bit is because of not having the best mental state, something I obviously am implying I sometimes have and this was my way of projecting onto them. Similarly, the Ashour Drone pic I got of my sona was going to have a story of them finding Shantae as an Ashour Drone and confused on why she’s the way she is which leads him back to Ammer (again, artist of that pic and who’s sona is a freelance hypnotist hypnotising willing people into being his Ashour Drones) and after looking into him and his drones a bit more offering to be one of his Ashour Drones for a similar reason to the Techno Drone one. Even my most recent pic of my Genie AU sona with Urbosa I tried to write a whole story of her originally finding the lamp and the two of them exchanging some dialogue before using hypnosis on her to influence her wish for a massage.

And yes, this applies to Mikaela pics as well. The collab I got with Violet Scales featuring both our OC’s I wanted to write a story of Mikaela stumbling upon a snake basket housing Jermisha during one of Mikaela’s erotic photoshoots as an explanation as to why she was already dressed in bedlah to begin with. The pic of Naga Mikaela mummified I wanted to write a story of her trying to surprise attack Eliza from Skullgirls to potentially add to her harem but backfiring and resulting in Naga Mikaela mummified by Eliza and coupled with some taunting from the 1000 year old Egyptian Vampire followed by her telling the Naga that she’s going to make a great display peace for her place. Even the pic of Naga Mikaela with Sharah I considered writing a story about her finding Sharah’s ring and putting it on not knowing that there was a cute genie girl inside and that’s how they met.

Hell, even writing this I struggled with doing and the only reason I pushed though was because it felt wrong to not have any new full-length stories without giving an explanation on why. Now at this point I’m sure a lot of you would be saying “Oh there’s an easy solution for this. Just use something like ChatBotGT or some other AI program to do the stories for you! Does all the work and gives you more time to do other things.” But I hope you NEVER fucking said that because telling me to use a style of generative content, which is notorious for being built of stealing other people’s work and passing it off as something ‘original’ just to get over my own lost desire to write is fucking stupid! Honestly, I think the better and more healthy option for me is to just stick with what I’ve been doing for the last few pics. Short descriptions and a brief summery that still add’s lore to my characters if needed. That might disappoint a lot of you who followed me solely for the writing but let me ask you this. What do you think is more important? Me forcing myself to slog though writing a story I’m not having fun writing and even if I do finish it my reaction will be more of a “thank God that’s over” reaction than any sort of positive one or doing shorter stuff that doesn’t take as much time to do and I know most people probably don’t even read anyway (sadly) so I can focus on what I enjoy more?

In fairness I knew this would happen eventually, because how many stories have you heard of creators who have lost their drive and motivation for what they enjoy doing? Need an example? How about Hideo Kojima who didn’t even want to work on Metal Gear Solid 4 originally because he just didn’t have the same passion for this franchise as he did once and the only reason he even agreed to work on 4 in the end was because of all the death threats he got from fans? Or how we almost got a new Jak and Daxter game in between the release of Uncharted 2 and The Last of Us but it ended up being cancelled because no one at Naughty Dog felt any motivation to make a new Jak game and they literally went “Are we really doing this because we want to or because of marketing reasons?” Or how about Geroge Lucas having to put up with so much hate and harassment from Star Wars fans though out the 2000’s just because of how he was telling the story that he created to the point where it just wasn’t fun for him anymore and gladly sold the franchise to Disney when offered without a second thought. (And before any revisionist historians try to comment “umm, no actually! That’s not it! Your just being a Disney apologist!” Clearly you don’t remember what George Lucas said in an interview one time before months before the Disney buy out. “Why would I make any more, when everybody yells at you all the time and says what a horrible person you are” anyone?)

So yeah, I’m sorry if this is sad news to anyone. But because I lack the passion I once had you really shouldn’t expect any new long stories for a good long while.

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cartoonyfangirl · 10 months

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(So this is something that I wrote up recently for a story (Remember Us on Wattpad) that is based of an AU created by @thepixarau so I thought of something on my end of like a side story, featuring both characters from your favorite franchises, as well as some of my own OC's to add in some kick. This is non-canon, which means that if LadyLuxo does write up something for this story, this is not going to be in it, this is something I wrote down for fun!)

(Now that we got that out of the way, I hope you enjoy this snippet of what I have written so far!)

The scene cuts to one of the watch towers, as we see Journey scoping out the large land in front of her, making sure no Dreamworks androids or anything from them would try to attack the base, she knew this place was indestructible, hence why the group giving up on destroying the place, but they would send out their android bots to keep a close eye on the building, as well as anyone who comes out. Journey was drifting off to sleep, when she heard someone coming up, she turned to see Blair Mercurial, her long-time friend and inventor, alongside him was a human/dragon hybrid, named Figment

"Oh my word, you two scared me for a second!" Journey said, placing her hand over her heart

"Oh i'm terribly sorry about that Journey, me and Figment came up here to see how you were doing" Blair said, walking next to Journey, and placing a hand on her shoulder

"Have there been any signs of new allyie people?" Figment said, his wings flapping excitedly

"Sadly not, it's been awhile since we got anyone new, besides, The DreamWorks have the area sort of surrounded with their bots! So it's getting tougher for anyone to make it over here"

"Oh...." Figment said sadly, Blair places his other hand on Figments shoulder as well

"Don't worry my little buddy, if anyone can't get here, we can help! Anyone that is invincible can make it here in one piece"

Journey looks to him and smiled. "Hey! You have a point! As long as they are invincible, nothing can stop them!"

Figment nodded, but then softly frowned. "I wish all the humans in the world were like us, where we can't die by anything"

"I know, but once we are ready, we will make sure those DreamWorks fools are sorry for what they have done to this planet for centuries!" Blair said, looking at both Journey and Figment

The three then heard something from afar, a loud screech, followed by a faint crashing sound, Blair runs over to the edge, and places his goggles on, his goggles zoomed in on where the sound happened, it turned out to be a huge bus, he recognized it to be one of those vehicles that turns from a van to a bus, before he could even say anything, the bus blows up, a huge boom sound can be heard from where they were, even those inside the base heard it, within 5 seconds, a voice came through the speaker

"Eh! Hey doc! What the hell was that?!" It was Bugs Bunny, one of the leaders of the base, his voice sounded both worried and angry

Blair picks up the mic and turns it on. "Sir! We saw a vehicle crash near the base, and I think either the DreamWorks had one of their bots throw a bomb over there, or something else, because it blew up!

"Was the vehicle empty?!"

"I don't think so, but considering that it was in bus mode, I'm saying it could be a group that was in that!

Journey gasped at that, a group of humans, they need to get over there, and see if there are any survivors

"Bugs, what do we do?" Blair said, hopefully waiting for the right answer to come out of the bunny/hybrid's mouth

"I will send a group over there to find whoever they can, You, Journey, and Figment stay up in the tower, keep an eye out for any bots or androids that go near the site!"

"Okay Bugs, stay safe" Blair said, before putting the mic down, he sighed, and looked at Journey and Figment

"We will be staying here, keeping an eye out, Hopefully there are some survivors from that" Blair said, with a worried tone in his voice

"Don't worry Blair, I'm sure they are....I hope" Journey said, looking out at the now orangish yellow lighting from the tower"

Back inside the base, Bugs makes it to one of the rooms, inside were Woody, Winnie, Motion, Wonder, Gonzo, Rizzo, Felix and a few other toons that were either hanging out, or being treated of their wounds

"Oh boy! We got ourselves a problem!" Bugs said, grabbing the keys to one of the medical vehicles

"What's going on? Did something happen?" Winnie said, before coughing, Woody gives her some medicine

"Easy Win, you don't want to make your Toon Virus worse now" He looks up to Bugs "I heard a faint explosion, what happened?"

"From what I got from Blair Mercurial, apparently a bus crashed not far from here, and not even a few seconds after, it exploded!"

Everyone looked to Bugs with frightened looks

"WHAT!!!" they all shouted

"Dude! Are you serious right now?!" Rizzo said, as he hops down from some of the crates

"Yes rat! I'm not kidding around" Bugs said with a serious look. "All I know is that bus could've been filled with folks that were trying to get here!"

"So what do you want us to do?" Motion said, walking next to Bugs

"I'm saying we form a rescue squad, I shall lead the group, You, Wonder, Gonzo, Felix, and Daffy are going to come with me, to make sure no one tries to stop us"

Motion nodded, Wonder nervously nodded, she usually goes with a group since she has Healing Powers, Felix tips his hat

"Alright rabbit, I'll go, only because I need to make sure my magic bag is working once more" Felix said, as he grabs his keys for his vehicle

"What do you mean I gotta go Bugsy?!" Daffy said, hearing his name from the other room, Bugs glares back at him

"We need the help, and you haven't done so in a bit, You better grab your things" Bugs said, Daffy rolled his eyes, and runs off

"I can go see if some of the others can help too" Gonzo said, quickly rushing out, Rizzo running behind him

"Hey wait up dude! You know I can't run very fast!" Rizzo called out to him

Bugs softly smiled, and heads out, Woody, Motion, and Wonder walking behind him

"Alright, lets go help those civilians"

The scene cuts to the characters going on the rescue trip, along with Lola, Tina, The Warners, Buzz Buzzard, and even Horizon, as she had Chaos Magic that can help them out, Bugs hops into the medical vehicle, as everyone else hopped into their own, Lola gives Bugs a thumbs up from the Spy Car, and the huge doors open up, Innavena from one of the booths also gives the group a thumbs up

"Okay sisters and toons, your good to go!" Innavena said through the speaker

Bugs starts up the medical vehicle, and soon, it zooms off, the rest of the vehicles also followed after, they all make a left turn, and off they went, from the tower, Journey, Figment, and Blair watched the vehicles make their way to the site, Journey nervously playing with her pendent

"Please let them be okay" Journey whispered to herself

As the vehicles zoomed across the cracked road, some of the toons noticed the bots heading their way, Yakko smirked, and pulled out his cannon

"Oooh! Look guys, it's our "special" friends!" Yakko said, pointing at the bots

"Oh good! Time to test these bad boys out!" Gonzo said, pressing a button, a few cannons popped out of the jeeplike vehicle. "And Kermit said that these are dangerous, well he is wrong!" He looks over to the Warners. "Don't tell him I said that kiddos

"We won't!" Yakko, Wakko, and Dot said at the same time, Bugs noticed and gives the signal

"FIRE!!!!" He yells, the toons used their weapons onto the bots, taking them down in a matter of seconds, Daffy and Tina laughed as they blasted down some from their vehicle

"TELL THE DREAMWORKS FOLKS WE SAID FUCK OFF!!!" Tina yelled, blasting one in the head

"That's my girl?" Daffy cheered

The group managed to get pasted all the android bots, and soon made to the sight, Motion quickly zooms out on her RRF (Realistic Robotic Feet), and skids her wheels to a stop, Wonder also checks around, carefully making sure she didn't fall or trip, she noticed that all the figures that were on the ground were unharmed, minus the scrapes and damaged clothing from the explosion, she scans around, making sure everyone was alive and accounted for, Bugs quickly makes his way in, Motion and Wonder returning to him

"E-Everyone is alive, c-children included, t-they only have minor i-injuries, and are out c-cold" Wonder said with her stutter in place

"And this is very rare, but everyone is accounted for, no one is missing from this group Bugs!" Motion said, typing down who the group could be from her inner catalog of groups

"That's impossible, the last group that was nearly accounted for was The Muppets, and that's because they're at 95% of who is with them, what other group could it be that has everyone accounted for"

Motion gasped, she double checked, this couldn't be right

"B-Bugs.....I think I have the answer"

"The others made it to the sight, Motion showed Bugs what she got from her gadgets and pendent, he gasped, alongside the others"

"It's.....It's the Pixars!....."

(I might do more soon, but because Writers Block loves me so much, it might take me some time, but what do you all think, I hope you guys loved it)

(The Pixar AU/Remember Us was created/written by @thepixarau )

(The EPCOT Sisters (Journey, Motion, Innavena, and Wonder) was created by me)

(All Canon Characters mentioned belong to their rightful owners)

#rememberus #thepixarau #side story #disney pixar #warnerbros #muppets #EPCOTcenter #EPCOT OCs

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still-a-morosexual-help · 2 years

Note

Do the brothers know/realize how much TSL parallels their life or are they oblivious to it? Just curious bc sometimes i think they do but then wouldnt they be so confused how Simeon knows this? Idk. What do you think?

They do know! Mammon straight up tells Simeon in one of the S3 hard lessons that he knows TSL is based off them. I think the only one who doesn't know is Levi, who didn't even know that Simeon was the writer until he was told in S2 (while everyone else knew)

Simeon's known the brothers (minus Satan) for as long as Lucifer has, though probably not as closely, and Lucifer seems like the kind of parent big brother who de-stresses by telling his colleague/best friend about the antics of his troublemaking charges

So a lot of TSL was written because Simeon knows the brothers and knew how they would react to different situations.

And a lot of it was purely fictional (them having different kingdoms & the Lord of Fools sending supplies to the Lord of Flies during a famine - something that never happened but Simeon knew how Beel & Mammon would react in that situation)

As far as I know, Simeon accurately predicted:

1. The Lord of Corruption locking the Lord of Emptiness away for defying him.

And I think it was pure coincidence that Simeon got that right.

But it also wasn't that much of a shot in the dark either.

It's canon that the brothers' personalities didn't significantly change between being angels & demons so;

The loss of Lilith & Belphie's closeness to her

Lucifer's tendency to bottle things up and try to do things on his own

Lucifer's growing relationship with Diavolo even before they Fell

Diavolo's publicised desire for peace between all 3 worlds

were all things Simeon would have known so,

Belphie associating Lilith's death with the humans and defying Lucifer because of Diavolo wanting to make peace with the humans, leading to Lucifer trying to do everything on his own and wanting to keep Belphie away from Diavolo without hurting Belphie further leading to locking Belphie away isn't that much of a leap

2. Henry

Henry was an OC

You know when you're watching a show or movie and you think wow all these problems could be easily solved if there was someone emotionally competent around (someone's who's really just a plot device to facilitate the character growth of the existing characters)

Yeah well, Simeon took that and ran with it and Henry was created

Simeon wrote TSL because he missed the brothers and he created Henry because he wanted someone to help the brothers and make them happy in a way he never could

MC turning up was just pure coincidence and luck

OKAY! LET'S TALK ABOUT THE REAL PLOT HOLE HERE:

THE LORD OF MASKS

No one knew about Satan's existence until after they Fell. Simeon wouldn't have known him or wouldn't have had an emotional connection with him to miss him and he wouldn't have been able to effectively predict Satan's behaviour for TSL

You know who he did know? Who he did have an emotional connection with? Who he would have missed? Whose behaviour he would have been able to effectively predict?

You know how in real life there are various interpretations of Lilith, both good and bad. How one of the most common is that she was the first woman and first wife of Adam who (from what I understand, but feel free to correct me) later became a demon and the mother of a certain class of demons. Y'know someone with various different sides to her.......different masks even....

Anyway, conspiracy theory that the original Lord of Masks in TSL was actually based off Lilith and you can pry that outta my cold dead hands :D

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papipopsicle · 3 years

Text

AFTERTASTE PART SEVEN

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Reader

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether sex and friendship can co-exist without causing conflict. Including OC's Flick and Cherry, a bisexual and lesbian in a sapphic relationship who are best friends of Y/N.

Song: Dream Boy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2.1K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

Y/F and Y/M Robins were far from perfect parents. Y/F had the mental age of a toddler at times, and being an estate agent who always has to go the extra mile- he often wasn't home when his wife needed him the most. Y/M, on the other end of things, had been a stay at home mum until Y/N turned 16 last summer, and now she helped with all the administrative work for Mayor McCoy. She was a maternal creature which, coupled with her brilliant sarcasm, made for some explosive conversations. The two met on the first day of university and got married a week after the last.

When Y/M first found out she was pregnant with little Y/S Robins, the two realised they wanted a quiet bubble of a town to raise their children and grow up with them. But it wasn't until their second daughter was about to turn seven until they found their forever home in the quaint town of Riverdale. Ten years passing before their eyes, and the picturesque place didn't seen all that anymore.

Jason Blossom's death had nothing to do with the short gunshot sounding over the waves of Sweetwater River, the noise which woke Y/N from her sweet unmemorable dreams every few nights. The summer days rolled into early August without anyone caring, Y/N spending most of them at Cheryl's side listening intently to her past adventures with her brother. Betty threw herself into an internship at a publication house; Flick and Cherry had volunteered at a summer camp, and Archie was helping his dad out more and more with constructions job.

Although it hadn't been the start to the relationship Y/N had hoped for- the nervous giggles and hand holding, short and sweet kisses on late night walks followed by poetry worthy cuddling. There was a magnificent silver lining as Archie's muscles gained definition, and he suited the sweaty builder look far too well.

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y/n Humph!

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Cheryl busy being my own icon

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"Earth to my gorgeous queen? Y/N/N?" Cheryl quizzed her friend, who currently resided at the poolside of Thornehill Manor. Her mind was off on a glorious tangent about her rendezvous in the kitchen at two in the morning. Fixing herself a glass of water, when Archie slips his hand into her pyjama shorts, his other around her mouth muffling her needy moans.

The red headed beauty shoved her y/h/c friend playfully, warm skin sweaty under her pale touch. Y/N blinked innocently and sent her an apologetic smile, "What?"

"I asked if you've thought about dating anyone else since Clayton?" The fiery ginger girl enquired with her usual upbeat tone.

Cheryl knew she had a unique quality about her which made it almost impossible for Y/N to lie to her face. The y/h/c girl scrunched up her nose, hiding the smile the idea of Archie Andrews brought to her face. 'Yes. We started off as fuck buddies but never actually fucked. Then I drunkenly asked him to be my boyfriend, now a month later I think we may genuinely work out.'

"Maybe." Y/N bit her bottom lip, listening to her friend's squeal as she squeezed her sun tanned arm.

"I knew it! You have this euphoric glow you only get when someone else makes you climax." The redhead affirmed confidently, watching the Robins girl's eyes bug out before hitting her arm, "Y/N/N, you know your secret's safe with me."

"Fine." She sighed and took a sip of her fruity cocktail, "It started off as just fooling around, honestly I just needed to let off some steam after everything. I knew he was into the kinds of things I was, I mean he used to tease me about it non stop. And it was good, so good I stopped being a pussy and asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Holy freaking hell!" The Blossom girl grinned with excitement, "Dare I ask, who is it?"

Y/N deadpanned at her friend, "Guess."

"Please don't tell me it's that muscular oaf Reggie, he's pretty but there's not exactly much going on upstairs." Cheryl tapped her temples and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Nope."

The ginger thought for a moment, consulting her liquid courage and splashing her feet around the waters edge, "It's Archie."

All it took was a side-eyed glance at the y/h/c girl's blooming rosy cheeks to know she definitely wasn't wrong. Y/N severely lacked the ability to lie, even if her tone held conviction, her features were far too expressive and told the truth all on their own. It's not like they were hiding it from anyone, but the past four weeks had gone far too quickly without any moments to spare for the world around them. They slept together each night, the majority of that time not actually spent sleeping, but they hadn't been given the chance yet to explore more romantic avenues.

"It's fucking Archie Andrews- you're fucking Archie Andrews and don't you dare deny it." Cheryl gawked in her gorgeous white and nude bikini, watching as her friend lay back against the hot marble slabs which encased the large pool with the largest grin adorning her plump lips.

"We haven't had sex yet, so technically you aren't completely correct." Y/N winked but carried on before the girl exploded with a hundred questions and could never be turned off, "Trust me, I want to, and I'm sure he does too. But you know, it's his first time, I want it to be perfect for him."

"Y/N/N, you really love him, don't you?" Cheryl gagged to begin with, but she found it sweet in truth. She wanted someone to hold, who would hold her right back just as tight for no other reason than needing to.

Y/N sat back up and paddled her feet, "You have no idea, Cher."

Arch 🧡

That new post should be illegal

Tiger 💛

Ooo

I like this reaction

Maybe I should post more

Like this one

Cheryl pushed me in the pool

And I may have had a drink

Or three

Arch 🧡

Well that's sexy

I swear nobody looks good like that how on earth

You're a goddess

But also

How's she holding up?

Tiger 💛

🥺😇

Broken

But she's strong yk

You coming over for dinner?

Arch 🧡

Yeah Y/D invited my dad too

Need me to pick you up from Cheryl's?

Tiger 💛

Awe cute we love a bromance, and it's all good my mommas coming now anyways :))

Hours had elapsed far too fast and soon the summer heat simmered into cool waves of wind brushing over sun kissed skin. Cheryl's arms were clasped around the blonde's shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N, I don't know what I'd do without you!" The Blossom girl professed with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.

Y/N beamed up at her, fingers carding through her damp y/h/c hair as she looked over her shoulder to see her mum pulling into the driveway, "You don't need to thank me, Cher, friends look after each other. Message me if you need me, okay?"

Cheryl promised she would and the two teen girls hugged goodbye, with Y/N soon heading home- listening to her mother gossip about Hal and Alice's screaming match last night, Y/N loved her inability to keep her mouth shut sometimes.

"Mom," The y/h/c stopped her mid sentence and received a side eyed glance in response, "I need to tell you something and you're totally not allowed to freak out while you're driving."

Y/M's eyes widened and her grip tightened around the steering wheel, her daughters very rarely confided in her. While she knew her youngest was safe in her promiscuity, neither of Y/M Robins' girls ever shared their secrets so for the most part she took finding out into her own hands.

"Honey," The forty four year old's calm tone was hardly comforting to the teenager, "if this is about you and Archie fooling around, your father and I figured that out a long time ago, like so long ago. Who do you think does your laundry? When your underwear starting looking like dental floss, we caught on pretty quickly."

Y/N felt like a deer in headlights, "Mum, what the hell?" Her cheeks heated to an inhuman temperature.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, as long as you're being safe and he's-"

"For the second time today, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I am not having sex with Archie Andrews!" Y/N's high pitched voice sounded through the car. It truly was a blessing and a curse to have such open minded parents in situations like this. She thought about telling her mother the truth, but Y/M was a blabber mouth as well as a gossip, so Y/N chose to withhold certain pieces of information.

The Robins matriarch dropped the subject but didn't forget about her daughter's tone, and continued to ramble on about how odd she found Penelope Blossom and the whole Blossom family in general. "Like why on Earth is Rose in a wooden wheelchair? They know it's the twenty first century, right?"

As expected, the Robins household was once again filled with warm laughter and copious amounts of food. The topic of Jason was skimmed over, and Y/S found herself away from the dinner table. The eldest Robins sibling was currently pleading with Alice as she began shoving all of Polly's belongings in the boot of Hal's car. She couldn't comprehend life without her best friend, not after losing Jason. They were meant to be going travelling together for a year- working the worst jobs and staying up all night to watch the sun rise in different countries. But instead, Y/S's eyes were blinded by tears as she screamed down the street at the speeding car, with Polly Cooper taken out of her life indefinitely.

Y/N was oblivious to the dark inner workings of the Cooper clan, Betty's knowledge about her and Archie unbeknownst to the loved up teens. She'd spent every second not occupied by her internship trying to justify the romantic act as a fleeting moment of loneliness fuelled by alcohol. She wrote in her diary ideas on how she could win Archie back over, not knowing it was in fact, too late. Betty found herself hopelessly in love with the boy next door, unfortunately for her, the girl across the road was the only one his mind found.

Archie and Y/N washed up while their parents resided to the living room with three glasses and a bottle of white wine. The short girl turned the tap off after placing the last utensil on the draining board, flicking her sudsy hands at the boy's face. "What the-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his torso- planting a kiss onto his lips, then cheeks, then forehead. The two fell entranced by each other, planting pecks across nape of her neck and top of his head.

"Son," Fred's voice called out from the next room and the two immediately pulled apart, hearts beating in their ears, "we're going in a minute."

"Alright." He replied, placing his girlfriend on the floor once more.

"I wish you'd stay." Y/N pouted childishly, she meant the words entirely but hated feeling overbearing. Her life had been turned upside down this summer, it started off with her unable to fall asleep with another person next to her- now Archie's chest was her most comfortable pillow and is arms were the warmest blanket.

"Tomorrow night instead, Princess? I promised my dad I'd spend more time with him before senior year." The boy reasoned, holding her close and unknowingly feeling the exact same way, he adored holding her by her waist and pulling her close under the duvet.

"Monopoly night at yours?" She grinned and he nodded back in reply, the two sharing a final kiss in the kitchen before walking into the hallway.

Y/N felt at ease as she wished the two a goodnight and headed up to bed. She took off her tea dress and replaced it with Archie's bulldog t-shirt, managing to reach the same length on her thighs as her dress did.

Arch 🧡

I can still smell your perfume on my sheets

Tiger 💛

Marking my territory obviously x

Arch 🧡

I love it

Hope you sleep well baby x

Tiger 💛

Call me that tomorrow and we won't be sleeping so you better rest up tonight x

Arch 🧡

Whatever you say, baby x

Tiger 💛

Goodnight x

Arch 🧡

Night princess x

part eight?

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask x

#fanfic #fanfiction #riverdale #archie andrews #archie x reader #archie andrews x reader #archie #Riverdale imagine #riverdale fluff #riverdale smut #riverdale imagines #archie imagine #fluff #smut

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Murder, He Wrote

Epilogue

Summary: You and Ransom attend the launch of his book and the cover closes on your story.

Warnings: Bad language, Mature (NSFW, 18+) NON-CON situations, kidnap, violence. Blood. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER…READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED…YOU HAVE BEENWARNED.

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: The end! I can’t believe all this span from @jtargaryen18’s Halloween Challenge last year. I hope you have enjoyed his as much as I have.

Word Count: 3.6k

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK series so don’t @me if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18 get off my blog!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 7

The town car and it's driver took you to whatever swanky hotel Ransom and his publishers had decided upon, you not caring the slightest inwardly, outwardly only half paying attention. You glanced out the window watching the lights of downtown pass by as your husband of merely three weeks held your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.

It was a warm July evening, the two of you dressed to the nines in formal attire. Ransom had insisted the launch be an invite only, formal event. Therefore, he was dressed in a two-piece suit, black of course, with a crisp white button down, silken black tie, and you, you looked like an ice queen's slutty sister. The powder blue silk dress you wore tied together with thin straps on each shoulder, your feet already hurting in your nude six inch sandals. Your free hand tapped a neatly manicured finger over your clutch that matched your shoes. A delicate white gold and diamond tennis bracelet adorned your wrist whilst the necklace you'd been gifted at Christmas hung around your neck. You wore your hair the way he said he loved it, in a ponytail full of waves and wisps framing your face.

After the incident on Valentine’s Day, you’d spent another two weeks in the confines of the basement. All luxuries removed and you were used and abused in exactly the way you had been when Ransom had first taken you, until he’d once more sucked the fight out of you. Only this time you didn’t have the strength to find it again.

You played the part you’d been cast in his sick little fantasy and became totally passive to his whims. You let him fuck you which, in all honesty, wasn’t an entirely unpleasant situation as he knew his way around your body and it felt good. You had given up denying it, and for the moments he was teasing those carnal reactions out of you, you escaped, let yourself imagine you were with someone who you wanted. And by keeping him sweet, you fooled him into thinking you were content. And things settled down, you had that halfway to normal life that you’d achieved before you discovered his manuscript.

But it was bullshit. A means to an end. And you deserved a fucking Oscar.

He’d had the audacity to propose to you, too. In a restaurant. Surrounded by people. He asked you the question, like you had a fucking choice.

Angry, desperate tears had filled your eyes as you’d simply gaped at him, tears the deluded cunt took for you being overwhelmed with happiness. With a smile he slipped the gaudily large diamond on your finger, sealing your fate.

It weighed as heavy on your hand as the grief for your lost life, and the despair at your situation did in your heart.

You’d had a small wedding. Attended simply by your parents and sister. He sent an invite to his mother and father but they didn’t show up. Your dad walked you down the aisle and as you walked towards the man you hated with every breath in your body, your father kissed your cheek and asked you if you were sure you wanted to do this. And no, of course you didn’t, but what could you do?

There was no way out.

“You look as gorgeous tonight as you did on our wedding day.” Ransom’s voice slightly startled you and you turned to face him.

You smiled at him, the smile you knew he wanted to see, as he placed a soft kiss to your cheek before doing the same to your hand, his lips ghosted over the top of the obscene rock and matching band on your finger which caught the lights of the city, sparkling with all the ferocity of a supernova.

Before you needed to reply with some half assed compliment back, the town car stopped as the driver got out and opened Ransom's door.

"Wait here," he instructed and walked around with the driver on the other side, escorting you out the minute your own door opened.

Flashbulbs fired off in your eyes, no doubt the press there for some absolutely ridiculous notion that this book was anything but its true nature of terror and disgust.

Ransom’s hand pressed into the base of your back as he guided you along in front of him, various members of the press calling his name, and you heard the excited shouts from some as they spotted the bands on both yours and Ransom’s hands, positively shrieking as they asked when you’d gotten married.

The headlines flashed in your mind now, 'Grandson of the Great Harlan Thrombey Releases First Suspense Novel'. 'One of Boston's Most Notorious and Eligible Bachelors is Strictly Off The Market' . 'Trust Fund Playboy Sinks His Bunny'.

It made you want to puke.

In fact, as the press line faded and you stepped foot into the lobby, you swallowed back the bile forcing its way up. A tray with champagne flutes passed you by and you immediately snagged one.

When Ransom had been distracted for a brief moment, you quickly glanced around and swallowed back the entire flute of the bubbly drink. Delightfully enjoying the brief taste and quick head rush it gave you.

The further you walked into the event, his hand still against your bare back, the louder it grew and the more trays of champagne and appetizers were floating by.

As typical, the two of you were fashionably late so, you had little chance to take part in any nibble or further, a drink, because the supposed "man of the hour", more like terror of life, was due to give a speech.

His agent pulled the two of you aside and made mention that it was time for Ransom to greet his guests. He pressed a sickening sweet kiss to your lips and confidently took to the small podium atop a small stage nearby.

“First and foremost, thank you to everyone who came out tonight. But more importantly, thank you to my beautiful wife, without you Sweetheart, this wouldn't be possible.”

The smile he flashed you was loaded with meaning as the pair of you looked at one another, his eyes shining with the depraved private understanding you shared.

And you hated him then just about as much as you ever had.

Excited muttering spread around the room as he had knowingly referred to you as his wife. It was the first time he’d announced your marriage to the world but, as he smiled and held his hands up, nodding smugly and confirming whatever people were asking him, you felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of nausea. To everyone else it was a sweet dedication, to you it was a sickening truth. This book was based on what he’d done to you. What he was saying was literal truth.

And the fact that the people currently applauding whatever he had said would never realise the true nature of those words on the pages of his book made you want to vomit in your handbag.

Applause rang around the room and you realised everyone was turned in your direction. Drawing your shoulders back you stood tall and once more fixed that fake smile on your face before Ransom cleared his throat and began to speak again.

But you didn't listen, you drowned him out, the sound of his voice distant and murky like Charlie Brown's teacher. You allowed you mind to think of anything but the present, other than the fact that these people were in unknowing full support of the hell you'd been through the last nine months.

Eventually a loud, rapturous applause signalled the end of his speech and he stepped back, smiling and then turned to the man from his publishers who shook his hand furiously, before the pair of them posed for photos.

That was when he beckoned you to him, looking at you in such a way that made your skin crawl and your teeth seethe with each breath. This bastard expected a photo op from you above all this, commemorating this disaster.

On autopilot you headed towards him, indifference obedience now your specialty and his arm curled possessively round your waist, fingers splaying on your hip. You posed and smiled as the flashes went off, but as you stole a glance at the large, ornate clock on the wall, you suddenly felt your head beginning to swim.

Seeing a convenient way out of this bullshit, you made sure to falter just a little, placing your hand to your chest. It caused Ransom's attention to turn to you.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?"

“I’m feeling a little light headed and warm.” You looked up at him. “Could we maybe get some air?”

"Sure, yeah," he looked to his agent and they nodded towards a side door in the room.

His arm still round you, playing the doting husband, he led you towards it and opened it with a flourish, allowing you to step out in front of him.

You emerged into the alley at the side of the building and took a huge gulp of air, steadying yourself.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

You were warm, flushed, your skin tingling as the now cooling air hit your slightly damp skin, your nipples perking at the temperature change were visible through the silk dress, and you didn’t miss the heated glance he gave them as you spoke. "I, I don't know. I think it's all the commotion."

“You do look a little flushed.” His eyes moved back to yours and he studied you for a moment, his large hands gently cupping your face as he kissed your forehead before his lips pressed to yours. “Wanna take a walk?”

Despite the fact you really couldn’t walk far in the ridiculous shoes you were in, you nodded. Anything to avoid going back in there and listening to all those sycophants kissing his ass.

He took your hand and started walking slowly down the alley. You were mid-way down when a man jumped out from behind the dumpster. You screamed and instinctively Ransom jumped to the side, pulling you slightly behind him.

“Give me the money and the jewellery, no one gets hurt.” The man spoke gruffly and you felt Ransom draw himself up to his full height as he glared at the dirty, dishevelled man, disdain on his face.

“Eat shit.”

“Ransom, just... please give him what he wants.” Your voice trembled as your body shook, your right hand already removing the rings on your left.

“I’d listen to your pretty wife, if I were you.” The man spoke as he reached into his pocket and when he withdrew his hand you swallowed at the unmistakable flash of metal.

“Fuck, Ransom, he’s got a knife!” You clutched his arm. “Please just give it to him!”

"Fuck, no," he started reaching for his phone but the man lunged toward him.

In the melee that followed, you were thrown to the side, your rings clanging to the floor somewhere along with your clutch, your palms and knees scraping painfully on the floor. By the time you’d pushed yourself up, you saw the man scrambling to his feet, Ransom’s watch and wallet in his hand. He turned to look at you and you backed away, stumbling once more to the ground letting out a blood curdling scream as he advanced. He stopped, picked up your rings and your bag, before he turned, bolting up the alley and rounding the corner, disappearing from sight.

"Y/N," the croaking voice came from your husband as he staggered towards you, a deep red seeping through his white dress shirt, his one hand attempting to stave off the bleeding. The other, cradling his phone. But he didn't get more than a few steps as he collapsed nearby.

"Ransom!" You shrieked and heels be damned, you ran to him, looking around, "help!"

"Call 9-1-1, Baby," he begged, trying to thrust the phone into your hand and you leaned over him.

With a jittery hand you swiped over to the emergency call option and hit the first two digits before you glanced around again and hesitated, rising slowly to your feet.

“What...” Ransom’s chest heaved as he looked up at you, his face white with shock as you turned the phone in your hand and shrugged.

“Yeah, you see, I could call for help but...” with that you tossed his phone to the hard ground and crunched it with your stupidly high heel, rotating your foot to make double sure, the glass and metal grinding between the stiletto and the tarmac. “Whoops, looks like it got smashed in the fight.” You gave a little chuckle. “And of course, mine was in my bag which he took. Isn’t that ironic? I mean the first time you permit me to use it for something other than to contact you or my mom, I can’t.” You made a little tutting noise. “Guess I’ll just have to keep yelling and hope someone hears.”

With that you turned and screamed, a frantic yell. “Please, someone help us! Please, he’s been stabbed, call 9-1-1.” You slowly dropped back to a kneel, ignoring the sting of your grazed knees and smirked. “Dammed, I really am good at this acting shit, don’t you think, handsome?”

Ransom coughed a harsh and wet cough. His chest heaving raggedly as he struggled between catching a breath and bleeding out.

“Y/N...” he spluttered, “you...please...”

"So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” you emphasised the 't' of the last word as you spoke the very same line that he had delivered to you months ago, the threat he had held over you and used to keep you in check whenever you stepped over that line.

His eyes widened further as the realisation set in, you could see his brain working and it gave you a buzz, a sense of satisfaction to know that he understood this was your doing.

You wanted the last thing this bastard thought about to be how you were responsible for his death. But more so, his narcissistic and sociopathic tendencies be damned, you wanted him to completely understand exactly how it was his fault.

And given the way he was bleeding and struggling for breath, you didn’t have long.

Another scream for help flew from your mouth as you pressed one hand on top of his which were now both clutched to the wound in his stomach, the other brushing his hair back slightly as you smiled down at him.

“I told you when you threw me back in the basement that the way you treat people would come back to haunt you.” You gave a little shrug. “And, when you told the homeless guy looking in the bins on collection day a few months back to eat shit and get a job, well, he took it kinda personally. He didn’t even blink when I asked how much it would take to knock you off.”

"You..." choking on blood, "vicious..." choke,

At that you gave another loud hysteric yell for help before you turned your head back to look at him.

“See, once upon a time I thought you’d changed. But here’s the thing, a person like you doesn’t change, Hugh. You’re incapable of love. You take what you want when you want for no reason other than it pleases you.”

Another scream for help, and this time you could hear someone answering and a lot of yells as people started running towards you.

“Well, now I’ve taken your life like you took mine.” You bent down, your forehead pressing to his as you smirked. His arm reached up to grab you, his blood soaked hand curling over your cheek and side of your neck. "And you know what? It feels good."

His palm was warm and slick against your skin and his eyes blazed with anger as his fingers squeezed. You knew he was desperately trying to hurt you but you felt nothing. You smiled, as you placed a soft kiss to his lips, your words whispered as you pulled back ever so slightly. “Karma’s a bitch, and so am I. See you in hell.”

As the fake tears started to pool in your eyes once more, you allowed your lip to tremble for distraught emphasis. Blood was now trickling out of Ransom's mouth, along down his ear and to the tarmac. You pulled back just a little so as to see his eyes. You wanted to watch him choke on his own blood as he took that final breath. You started sputtering words incoherently as you amped up the hysteria, hearing the footfalls now just behind you.

He didn’t even make it to the hospital.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was pronounced dead at 21:05 hours on Friday 17th July where he lay in a pool of his own blood, in that dark alleyway down the side of the hotel.

Leaving you a widow.

And free.

***10 months later***

It was as simple as it sounded, closing your eyes and pointing to a spot on a map. Your finger ended up on Boulder.

Colorado was far enough from the last year or so of your life that you could feel comfortable. You'd researched it, finding it to be something worth interest. Affordable. Breath-taking scenery. Incredible life altering activities and quaint little towns. The summers were supposedly warm but rarely did the temperature rise above ninety-five, the winters were supposedly very cold, dry and windy; rarely dropping below six degrees with partly cloudy skies year round.

The months following Ransom’s death had been as draining as humanly possible. The investigation had involved countless interviews before the police and authorities settled for it being a mugging gone wrong. But then there had been the months of wrangling and private law cases his parents had attempted to bring against you to prevent you getting his money, despite the probate law being fairly simple. You were married. He left no will. It was yours by default.

Eventually, when the Drysdales had exhausted every last option, they were forced to concede and that was when you made the decision to leave, a decision of which your parents were highly encouraging. They practically talked you into this whole thing to begin with. Helping you leave your nightmares behind. Despite them not suspecting anything at first, you weren't blind to the fact that things still had not sat right with them. You knew they had suspected a level coercion, that maybe you'd had a manic episode of mental illness, but you never had divulged the full details and by the time he was gone, they hadn't cared. Your relationship with them had strengthened and healed and that was what you cared about.

Now, you were newly nestled in Boulder with a great condo downtown, a stone’s throw from the historic district that was filled with cliché shops and bars. Whilst you didn’t need the money, you’d taken a job working in the media department of a private law firm. It was a far cry from your journalist days, but it suited you just fine.

The more distance you put between who you were now and who you had been, the better.

You were at peace.

The May evening air was temperate as you crossed the street and opened the door to the designated bar in which you were meeting your new group of friends, mostly gathered from work, for a girl's night out. You’d been held up a little in the office so they were already waiting at a table. You waved and gestured to the bar, indicating you were going to get a drink.

As you sidled up to the wooden counter, you were jolted a little into a man to your right. You turned to apologise and gave a little double take. You recognised him instantly. But you didn’t want to make that obvious and cause him to feel uncomfortable. You knew how it felt, to have everyone looking at you, hushed whispered comments as you went about your business, people trying to figure out if you were who they thought you were.

That was part of the reason you had moved, and you sure as hell weren’t about to subject the man next to you to the same, uncomfortable experiences.

Recovering quickly, you hastily apologised and he smiled.

“Don’t worry about it.” His Boston accent was evident and you smiled.

“I miss that accent.”

The man chuckled, his warm blue eyes creasing slightly as he looked at you. “You from Boston, too?”

“Concord.”

“Newton.” He replied, “well, I lived there anyway, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Should I? Know that, I mean?”

He studied you for a moment, and you kept your face as passive as possible. You could tell he knew that you knew, but you gave a shrug none-the-less and he smiled, a gorgeous smile that lit up his entire face, perfect white teeth flashing from beneath an immaculately groomed beard, as he extended his arm towards you.

“Andy Barber.” His fingers gently brushed the back of your knuckles, as you shook his hand, his grip warm and gentle.

“Oh, of course.” You smiled back. “One of our attorneys.”

“Our?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m Y/N. I work in the media department. I mean I only started a few weeks ago but...”

“Well, in that case, I’m pleased to meet you, Y/N, and welcome aboard.” His smile didn’t falter as he let go of your hand and gestured to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

You paused for a moment before you took a deep breath.

And nodded.

“Sure, that’d be great.”

******

Sequel: Follow Andy and reader’s story in Consciousness Of Guilt.

#murder he wrote #dark ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom x reader #dark ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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reincarnated70sbaby · 3 years

Text

linger

listen before you read!

robert plant xfem!oc

warnings : drug use, swearing, trucklot of angst ;)

word count : 2.1k

an: was listening to ‘linger’ by the cranberries and I couldn’t pass up this angsty idea I got 😎 timeline is off but yolo ig...

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

Sloane leaned down to the table to take an extra line for her pre-performance nerves. She felt a little more nervous today, this particular concert being one of the largest yet. She was the front woman of The CAPs, who were opening for Led Zeppelin for their summer of ‘69 tour. This was exactly the break the band needed, finally getting recognition for all their talent and hard work over the last two years.

She applied a little powder to her face, and patted on her classic red lipstick to her slightly chapped lips. Securing the clasps of her platform red heels, she shook her body in hopes of shaking away her anxious jitters. Once she had finished her body-shaking ritual, she walked out from the wings of the stage.

As she walked across to centre stage, wind blowing through the holes of her white crochet dress. The crowd cheered loudly as the band waved to them.

“How’s everyone doin’ today? It’s so hot today, my boobs are sweating off!” She greeted the crowd with her bubbly nature. Adjusting the mic stand to her height, she continued to address the huge crowd. “Today’s set list will have a slight adjustment to it, we’re starting off with a new song I wrote just last night. It’s a little softer than our other music, so just sit back- or should I say lean back on the person behind you - and relax. This is called ‘Linger’ "

While she was speaking to the crowd, a teenage roadie ran onto the stage and placed a stool, for Sloane to sit on, and disappeared again in a heartbeat. The crowd, didn’t even take notice of the young boy, entranced with the tawny blonde singer as usual.

Sloane sat down, crossed her legs and nodded toward Rory, to begin. Rory started picking a simple guitar melody on his trusty Gibson acoustic, the first guitar he ever picked up. Sloane swayed lightly to the rhythm, eyes on the horizon above the crowd. Soon after, Marshall joined in with quiet, but strong beat on drums. At the same time, Oscar added the baseline to the song.

Taking a deep breath, Sloane began the song.

If you, If you could return, Don’t let it burn, Don’t let it fade, I’m sure I’m not being rude, It’s just your attitude, It’s tearing me apart, It’s ruining every day

I swore, I swore I would be true, But honey so did you, So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand? We’re you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you?

Sloane sang gently, her eyes closed with a pained look on her face. She thought back to the day before, when everything fell apart.

———

“Sloane, honey, please tell me what’s wrong! You’re being so closed off with me today!” Robert pleaded, grabbing her hand while she was walking away. Sloane yanked her hand away and walked towards an empty storeroom in the hotel corridor.

“Don’t get any ideas, we need to talk privately” Sloane commanded as she entered into the storeroom. It had barely enough space for both of them to fit, being crammed full with towels and bedsheets.

“Please, love, jus’ tell me what’s bothering you, I wanna make you happy”

“Oh fuck off Robert, you’re so fake and a liar. These past couple of months have all been a lie!”

“What’re talkin’ about? I have never lied to you once”

“Seriously? ‘I’ve never lied to you’? Are you actually for real right now? Do you know what I just found out Robert? You’re fucking married! And she’s coming here tonight! You didn’t think I would deserve to know that!” She yelled, ignoring her previous statement about keeping this private.

“I didn’t tell you because I was scared okay? I have never felt like this before with anyone else. All the groupies were just for sex, but when I met you I had fallen for you Slo, you make me a better person in every way”

“I don’t care how I make you feel, you’re still married! With kids! How would they feel if they found out their father was in a relationship with a woman other than their mother? I can’t believe you did this to me willingly, even after I told you what happened with my parents. That messed me up, seeing my father with another woman, and leaving my mother for her. Never seeing him again, choosing his new family over me and my siblings. That hurts me the most Robert, you knew my history and you ignored it!” Sloane cried out, tears falling freely on her face, running her dark eye makeup.

“I never meant to hurt you love, you mean so much to me. I just didn’t think- I never fuckin think, but I my feelings were so strong for you, I never thought about Maureen, I’m shamed to admit it” Robert plead, guilt weighing on his conscience. He reached out to wipe her tears away, but Sloane turned her head, the same pained look on her face.

“We’re done. I can’t stay with someone who could forget about their own wife and kids, and forget to tell their girlfriend that she’s actually a mistress. Goodbye” Sloane said, pushing her way out of the cramped closet, before running to the elevator at the end of the hall.

———

But I’m in so deep, You know I’m such a fool for you, You got me wrapped around your finger, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to? Do you have to let it linger?

Sloane sang emotionally, a single tear escaped her tear duct. She took the break for guitar solo to take a couple deep breathes, and to calm her heightened emotions down.

Oh, I thought the world of you, I thought nothing could go wrong, But I was wrong, I was wrong

If you, if you could get by, Trying not to lie, Things wouldn’t be so confused, And I wouldn’t feel so used, But you always knew, I just want to be with you

———

Sloane sat at the large round table, sipping her wine. The two bands had just completed all the concerts in France, and were having a celebratory dinner for the night. The lights were dim in the fancy restaurant, but Sloane could still see the heartbreaking sight of Maureen and Robert cozying up to eachother. She longed to be the one Robert was dedicated to, to be his Maureen, to be the one who sipped on his beer instead of her wine for a change, to rest her hand on his knee. She wished to be the one who would sleep with him in bed each night, without a worry of cheating or unfaithfulness. Her heart was also broken for Maureen, she was so inlove with Robert, as was he with her. She was also probably the greatest mother out there, being a single parent for a lot of the year.

Sloane switched her focus from the smitten couple, to Marshall and John Bonham's discussion on gongs, congas and all exotic drums.

Everything had been going so well, the concerts each night going to wonderfully, the bands got on great together. Even all the touring crew and management got on well with eachother. It was like one, big, slightly dysfunctional family.

Sloane wished she could vent to one of her bandmates about her case of ill fated love, but she knew if she told any of the CAP boys, tension would arise between the bands, and she simply couldn't bear to break the harmony.

“I’m sorry everyone, but I feel a bit ill and I think it would be best if I went to my room” Sloane announced, rising from her chair. She briefly locked eyes with Robert, before averting her eyes that threatened to fill with tears.

“Are you sure you’re okay Slo? I can come up and look after you if you feel faint or anything?” Rory asked genuinely, concerned for his little sister, he noticed she had been a little less bubbly than normal today.

“I’m fine Ror, I’ll think being on the go and travelling for the last couple of months has caught up with me. I’ll call you if I need you. Love you” she said, hugging him tightly.

“Love you, stay safe sis”

A chorus of goodbyes were heard as she left the table and walked out of the brassiere restaurant.

As soon as she entered her large room, she decided to clean up her stuff in order to distract herself. She folded all her clothes, tucked all her shoes into her suitcase, and cleaned up her makeup station on the vanity, placing the assortment of beauty products in the black makeup bag she owned.

After she was done cleaning, she ordered a couple bottles of wine, with some croissant from room service, taking advantage of the readily available French delicacies.

Lowering herself into the warm bubble bath she ran while waiting for her room service, her mind wandered to the whole situation, creating lyrics in her head. Luckily she brought her songbook, so there was no need to get out of the bath in search for it. She poured her heart out into the lyrics. After finishing the lyrics up, she soaked for a little longer, until she felt herself pruning and wrapped the fuzzy bath robe around herself.

She was about to turn off her bedside light to sleep, when she heard a light knock on the door. Her head scrambled, trying to figuring out who it was. Must be Rory checking up on me she thought. Opening the door, her heart skipped a beat at the visitor.

“Sloane let me-“

“Robert, please, I told you we were over”

“Will you let me speak, I need to talk to you”

Sloane stepped aside from the door, letting him in. She guided him to the seating area of the room, not wanting to risk being near the bed.

“Uh, d’want tea or something?” Sloane asked the blonde man, the air heavy with awkward tension.

“Yeah sure, love. That’d be great” Robert answered warmly.

“So, what do you want to say” Sloane asked, pushing his tea on front of him.

“Sloane, I’m sorry. I still do love you and I hate that I fucked everything up. I was just so infatuated- I still am, and I regret that I made you feel upset. I just want to say sorry”

“I- I still love you too Robert, it wasn’t just one sided, I really thought you were the one”

“Sloane, I don’t know what to say… If- if you ask me to, I will. I want you. I want to be yours.”

“Robert- I. I can’t do that. As much as I want to love you and be with you, I can’t be a homewrecker. I’ve seen the way you are with Maureen, you love her. I know in my gut that you’re better off with her. She loves you and deserves you 100%” Sloane’s face was wet with tears.

“Uh, okay. I’m sorry love, I really wish I didn’t fuck up our relationship. I really hope that one day we can be friends again, when you’re ready” Robert got up to leave, but was stopped when Sloane grabbed his hand.

“There’s a part of me that will always love you Robert. This was wonderful while it lasted” She spoke with a sad smile on her face.

Robert squeezed her hand in agreement, before exiting the room.

———

And I’m in so deep, You know I’m such a fool for you You got me wrapped around your finger, oh, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to? Do you have to let it linger?

Oh I’m in so deep, You know I still have love for you, My love has wrapped me round your finger, oh, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have? Do you have to let it linger?

The CAPs finished their song, and Sloane stood up to thank the crowd.

“Robert, darling, there you are. Was that singer at the dinner last night?” Maureen asked warmly to her husband, joining him in the wings.

“Uh, yeah, but she left early because of travel sickness y’know the sort” Robert answered absentmindedly, his deep blue eyes trained on the lead singer, who was preparing for the next song in the band’s set list.

“I must have missed her. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? I love that song she just sang, great voice” Maureen mused, admiring Sloane’s confidence , akin to her husbands.

“Yeah, yeah she is. She’s a beautiful person, inside and out”

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

my first Robert fic!!! I’m more of a Jimmy girl, but I love the golden god too (Leo men <3)

as always, any criticism/ideas are welcome in my inbox or comments 🤍

tag list : @dreamersdrowse @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @princesspagey ask me if you would like to be added!!

#classic rock #led zeppelin #robert plant #robert plant x reader #my fic tag #frans fics #golden god

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miracleonice87 · 3 years

Text

Begin Again, part two

with Mathew Barzal

a/n: in honor of @kerwritesthings’ birthday (that’s right, go wish her a happy one if you haven’t already!)… Hayden and Mat are back! part one was one of the earlier pieces I wrote, and it was a combo of a reader/oc, which I don’t really like to use in my writing now, but I’m sticking with it for consistency’s sake. title is based on T Swift's song, which I obviously don't own and all that stuff.

warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, nothing graphic

word count: 5.3K+

_____

“Hayden!” you heard from across the Coliseum concourse, just moments after you’d stepped through the doors of the main entrance. A stunning platinum blonde with a dazzling smile quickly approached, waving excitedly. Your first instinct was to look over your shoulder to try and determine who the woman was speaking to, since you didn’t recognize her, but she had called your name.

Instead, you forced a small smile and tentatively stepped toward her. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, she gathered you into a tight hug.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger!” she exclaimed, then stepped back and fanned a hand across her chest. You couldn’t help but notice the rock on her left ring finger, not to mention her perfectly manicured nails and pristine blue silk Islanders jacket, paired with a white t-shirt, black jeans, and snakeskin boots. “I’m Sydney, but you can call me Syd. It’s Sydney Esiason Martin, actually. I’m Matt Martin’s wife, but all the guys just call him Marty,” she explained, her hands gesturing animatedly all the while.

It was all coming together in your brain now, that Mat must have arranged for Sydney to be on the lookout for you, and you nodded slowly, your smile growing.

“I’m Hayden,” you offered, but of course, she already knew that, you thought as you mentally kicked yourself. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, and Marty, too.”

Sydney beamed, her eyes glittering. “Yeah, you, too!” she said. “It isn’t often Barzy brings a girl around the group. Well, honestly… it isn’t ever, actually,” she said with a lighthearted giggle. “You must be pretty special.”

You breathed a chuckle and swiped your tongue along your bottom lip, lost for words.

Sydney must have sensed your unease, because after a beat, she gave your upper arm a light squeeze and nodded her head toward the escalators leading to the suite level.

“C’mon, I’ll show ya where we’re sitting,” she said. “I’m starving. I think I want a pretzel with cheese. Are you hungry? They have the most incredible nachos up there, just wait…”

And as Sydney rambled on about the delicacies to be found in the family suite, your anxieties about meeting the people there suddenly shrunk, and you found yourself thinking that you were going to like this “Syd.”

_____

The game was a blowout.

New York beat Ottawa 6-1, and Mat had a goal and three assists, not to mention the night’s second star. You had held your own in the family box, and Sydney had been the perfect guide — introducing you to the kindest of the guys’ partners and avoiding the ones that side-eyed you standoffishly, whispering in your ear that so-and-so had dated two NHLers in the past, and so-and-so and her boyfriend were constantly on and off, and that Syd didn’t expect them to be around for long, so don’t worry about them. You mostly spent the evening nodding along politely to various conversations, giggling at Sydney’s over-the-top antics, and making small talk with some of the veterans’ wives. They all seemed relieved to know that you were familiar with the hockey world and, therefore, had at least a hint of what you were (potentially) getting yourself into.

But one thing you hadn’t expected? When Syd turned to you a few minutes after the game ended and said, “Oh! Matt just texted me. He said Barzy wants me to bring you downstairs.”

You swallowed your last sip of beer, hard.

“Downstairs?” you asked softly after a long pause.

“Uh huh!” Sydney nodded emphatically, tucking her phone into her Louis Vuitton bag and patting your knee. “He probably wants to introduce you to some of the boys. Don’t worry,” she said with a nonchalant wave of her hand, doing her best to calm your nerves.

You nodded slowly and reached for your own, much less expensive, bag. “O-okay.”

Ten minutes later, you were in the depths of the Coliseum in a lounge across from the locker room, Sydney chatting away about how when playoffs start, you’ll have to join her and the other girls for tailgating in the parking lot before the game, because it’s such a blast, and it’s a lot easier to watch your significant other knock the shit out of someone (or get the shit knocked out of him) when you’re tipsy. You stayed noncommittal, all the while questioning in your mind whether Mat would even want you around once playoffs started.

But you didn’t have long to dwell on that, because a moment later, the locker room door swung open, and two tall, broad, light brown-haired men stepped through it, Mat close on their heels. You could have sworn you heard him sharply whisper “please don’t embarrass me” before they crossed the hallway, but then again, maybe that was just in your head, because immediately after, Mat gave you a huge smile and stepped forward to pull you in for a hug.

“Hey!” he greeted warmly, then completely caught you off guard by pecking your lips, right there in front of half a dozen of his teammates and their partners.

You touched your fingertips to your lips, feeling them buzzing at the unexpected contact. You recovered as quickly as you could and smiled back at him, lost in the way he looked in his sharp grey suit and in how he smelled fresh out of the shower.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

And just as you studied Mat’s appearance, he was studying yours — taking in your royal blue blazer, the way your light-wash jeans hugged your curves perfectly, and, of course, admiring the Manolo Blahniks you’d scrimped and saved for two years to purchase.

“Nice shoes,” Mat commented, winking flirtatiously. You giggled, his words echoing the very first he had ever spoken to you back in the coffee shop. “Seriously, though, you look beautiful, Hayden,” he added.

Your cheeks warmed, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you glanced down at your feet.

“Thanks, Maty,” you said quietly. “You look great, too.”

With an appreciative nod, he pressed his hand to your lower back and guided you nearer to the men accompanying him, who had already greeted their significant others — Syd kissing Matt, and Grace, you remembered, hugging her husband, whose name you couldn’t quite recall.

“Well, Hayd, you know Syd and Grace now, but I want to introduce you to their husbands, Marty and Anders,” Mat said, motioning toward them. “Anders is our captain, and Marty’s like my team dad.”

You giggled at that, glancing up at Mat fondly before focusing back on his teammates and extending your arm.

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” you said, shaking their hands.

“You, too,” Anders said. “I’m glad you came out tonight.”

“Yeah, Barzy won’t shut up about you, and now we see what all the fuss is about,” Marty said, laughing at his own joke as Sydney poked him in the ribs playfully.

“What’s this about Barzy not shutting up?” you heard from behind the wall of well-dressed men in front of you, before an icy blue-eyed man stepped forward. Mat rolled his eyes.

“And this is Tito,” Mat said, waving his arm toward the man you knew to be his close friend. “Don’t let him fool you — he doesn’t ever shut up, either.”

Tito smirked at that and held out his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hayden,” he said kindly. “You’ll have to come back — you must’ve been our good luck charm tonight.”

You shook your head shyly. “No, no, I can’t take the credit,” you insisted. “That was all you guys. But yes, it’s so nice to meet you, too, Tito.”

Tito smiled, looking between you and Mat, and before Tito could offer a response, Mat spoke into your ear.

“I got us a reservation at this place nearby,” he said, his low tone making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “I don’t wanna rush you, but we should probably get going. Besides, hopefully this is far from the last opportunity you’ll have to hear my friends chirp me.”

You smiled up at Mat, admiring the way his still-damp hair fell perfectly around his sculpted face, and nodded.

“Sure, let’s go,” you told him.

_____

“Okay, favoriiite... NFL team.”

“Seahawks," Mat answered. "Since Seattle’s not far from Coquitlam, you know?”

You nodded. “Plus Russell Wilson and Ciara are everything.”

“Everything,” he agreed dramatically, knocking his knuckles on the table for emphasis. “What about you?”

“Oh, Pats all the way,” you proclaimed, sitting back in your chair. “The day Brady signed with the Bucs was top five worst days of my life,” you added emphatically.

Mat clucked his tongue. “Awww, poor baby,” he said teasingly, throwing you a wink. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, okay, your turn. Next question,” you said, reaching across the table for his hand, tracing the veins there with your fingertips as Mat beamed at you, unable to think immediately of another inquiry as he was too distracted by your soothing touch.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Alright, uh,” he began. “How about... oh, what was your favorite movie as a kid?”

A faraway smile spread slowly across your lips as you looked just past Mat, recalling laying on the floor of your den back in Maine, Nick by your side as you watched the same VHS tape over and over again.

“You’ve probably never heard of it,” you started, shaking your head. “But, uh, it was called Brave Little Toaster.”

Mat stilled.

“Shut up,” he deadpanned.

Your brows pulled together, puzzled. “What?”

Mat chuckled in disbelief. “Brave Little Toaster was my favorite movie as a kid.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re lying,” you accused.

Mat put up his hands in innocence.

“Swear!” he insisted. “You can call my sister right now. We watched it every day for years.”

You could only grin stupidly. “Us, too,” you told him. “Sequels weren’t that good, though,” you added, taking a sip of your wine.

Mat nodded, looking pleased with that assessment, and thought not for the first time that night about how easy this all felt with you. How right. From the simplest thing to the most important.

“No, no, they were trash,” he laughed. “Brave Little Toaster Goes to Mars, and, uh... shit, what was the other one… uh, Brave Little Toaster…”

“To The Rescue,” you finished, Mat echoing the last word before you both fell into a fit of giggles.

“I cannot believe we have this much in common, Maty,” you said when you finally caught your breath.

“Yeah, pretty crazy, right?” Mat said. You nodded as he reached for his gin and tonic. “Feels like I’ve met my other half,” he said.

You pressed your lips together in an attempt to hide your shy smile, dropping your gaze to your lap. From across the table, Mat squeezed your hand. Then, a voice piped up from behind you.

“I hate to interrupt…”

You turned in your seat to find the maître d' leaning toward you, an apologetic look in his eyes.

“We’re going to be closing, so I just wanted to ask—”

“Oh, god, did we close the place down?!” you asked apprehensively, glancing around the room to discover that, indeed, you and Mat were the last two in the room.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Mat said, flustered. “I didn't even realize. We’ll get out of your hair. I’m so sorry, sir. Really.”

The man shook his head in understanding and left the table as the waiter approached with the bill.

Suddenly, your stomach dropped. You couldn’t even fathom how much two steak dinners and drinks for the both of you would cost at a place like this. You felt guilty for agreeing to come here instead of suggesting something less extravagant, and you braced yourself as you waited for Mat to make some noise of disgust at the number on the check, just like you’d been used to at the end of date nights for so long.

But, it never came. Mat simply tucked a few bills into the fold, and looked back up at you with a smile and a contented sigh.

“You ready?” he asked easily.

You nodded. “I’m ready for anything with you.”

Mat jutted out his chin proudly and came around to pull out your chair. With his hand gently resting on the small of your back, he guided you to the valet station in front of the restaurant while you waited for his car to be brought around. All the while, Mat felt his heart thudding against his ribcage as he contemplated his next move.

Unaware of his internal struggle, you turned to him with a smirk as you awaited the car’s arrival, and you slipped your hands into his jacket pockets as you leaned into his chest.

“My hands are cold,” you explained simply, while Mat nodded, thinking that there was no better feeling than you reaching out for him. He only wanted to be near to you, ever, always, which brought him to finally posing his long anticipated inquiry.

“Hey, uh…” Mat began, clearing his throat nervously. “I was thinkin’, maybe you’d wanna come over to my place, like, maybe for the night? Honestly I just… I just wanna spend as much time with you as I can, especially since we’ve got another roadie coming up. And I’d love to just curl up on the couch with you, maybe watch a movie—“

“Yes,” you answered softly, but firmly. You had never been more certain that yes, you wanted to go home with this person. Right now.

Mat was caught off guard by your confident answer, and he smiled down at you in disbelief.

“You sure?” he asked. “There’s no pressure, Hayd. I know this is moving fast and all.”

You nodded. “It is,” you concurred. “But it feels… good. It feels right. And I wanna come home with you, Maty.”

Mat grinned from ear to ear and grasped your face with both his hands, kissing you deeply just as his car pulled up to the curb. He took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Let’s go then.”

_____

You did spend the night at Mat's that night, and the next night, and the one after that. But the one after that, Mat wasn’t around, and was instead in Raleigh for the first half of a two-game road trip. So, you were surprised when, while you were watching the game, you heard your doorbell ring. Frowning, you jogged to your door and hit the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, Miss Parker?”

“This is she.”

“Got a delivery for you. Says it’s from an ‘M. Barzal’?”

You smirked, tucking your chin to your chest.

“I’ll be right down.”

Seconds later, you were bounding down the stairs to meet the delivery person, who stood on your building’s front steps holding a stout bouquet of full, white peonies. You thanked them as you took the bouquet in your hands, staring down at it wistfully as you closed the door behind you. Not bothering to wait until you were back in your apartment to read the note, you pulled the card from the envelope tucked within the bouquet.

Hayd,

Pretty flowers for my pretty girl. Be home soon. Don’t forget about me.

_____

“Baby sis!”

You heard your brother’s booming voice on the other end of the line three days later, sounding a bit distant. By that and the sound of papers shuffling, you knew he had you on speaker at his office. “What’s up, Hayd?”

You smiled at his eternally effervescent tone.

“Hi, Nicky,” you greeted. “Oh, nothing much.” Lie. “Just wanted to give you a call and check in.”

“Aww, I’m flattered,” Nick replied. “But you know that I know you better than anybody else, right? I can tell by your voice that you’ve got something to say. What’s goin’ on? Lay it on me.”

You bit your bottom lip. Damn him. Even all the way from Boston, he could still read you like a book. You couldn’t help the girlish giggle that escaped you as you admitted, “Okay, okay. I wanted to tell you that I, uh... I met somebody.”

You could practically hear his eyebrows shoot up over the phone.

“Really?” Nick drawled, lengthening both syllables dramatically. You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, but still, you beamed.

“Really,” you confirmed. “Somebody you’d, uh... somebody you’d actually probably recognize.”

“What do you mean? You cop yourself an attorney or what?”

“No,” you responded, fussing with the frayed hem of your cropped sweater. “No, not quite—“

“What, a Yankee then?”

Your eyes widened at his surprisingly accurate interruption. He was more on the nose than he knew.

“Well... not a Yankee, but...”

“Shut up,” he cut you off once more. “A Met? A Jet?”

You bit at the skin around your polished plum fingernails before you spat out, “An Islander.”

Silence. Then, a bellow.

“What?!”

That was Nick. Ever the thespian.

“It��s Mat Barzal, Nicky,” you answered matter-of-factly. “Like something out of a goddamn rom-com, I met him in a coffee shop about a month ago, and we’re… we’re dating. He’s my boyfriend.” You uttered the last words of your statement with an astonished laugh. It still seemed too good to be true just in your own head — telling someone else made you sound certifiably crazy, even to your own ears.

“I- … how... Jesus! What?!” Nick sputtered. “Hayden! What the fuck! Well, ‘m happy for you, but I’m just… I think I’m in shock right now.”

You groaned with a pained chuckle.

“I know. I’ve been in shock this entire time,” you concurred. “But Mat, he’s… he’s amazing. It sounds so cliché, but he’s just such a normal guy. He’s super polite, funny, thoughtful—“

“Plus he’s an absolute man rocket,” Nick added enthusiastically.

You put a hand to your forehead, rolling your eyes once more.

“Spoken like a true former hockey player,” you commented.

Quickly moving on from your remark, Nick asked, “So, when do Annie and I get to meet him? Seen him on the ice for years but I gotta make sure he’s good enough for my baby sis.”

You smiled warmly at his often-used term of endearment and replied, “Well, yeah. That’s kinda the main reason I wanted to talk to you. He plays the B’s next weekend, on Sunday, at the Garden. The game’s at 1, I think, so… uh… he got us tickets — three tickets. He wants me and you and Annie to go to the game and then he wants us all to go out together—“

“Done,” your brother spoke up firmly before you could even finish. You beamed at his confirmation, despite the fact that he had interrupted you for what felt like the hundredth time in your three-minute call.

“Really?” you asked, scrunching your nose tentatively. “I know you guys are really busy, especially with wedding planning and stuff, and I’d totally understand—“

“Hayden, stop,” Nick spoke sternly. “Seriously. It’s no problem. Sundays are good for us. Besides, even if I did have plans, I’d cancel them for this. Meeting my sister’s new boyfriend is a big deal.”

Absentmindedly, you nodded, though he couldn’t see it.

“Well, thank you, Nicky. It means a lot. I’ll let Mat know you can make it. He’ll be so excited,” you told your brother happily.

“Awesome,” Nick replied warmly. “So what about Mom and Dad? They haven’t met the kid yet, have they?”

You snorted. “Nicky, you’re only two years older than him,” you pointed out. “You can’t call him a kid.”

“Sure I can!” he insisted. “He’s dating my kid sister — that makes him a kid to me.”

You sighed, amused.

“Whatever. But no, they have not met him yet,” you said. “That’ll happen soon enough, you know? I mean, you know how Dad can be — he can come off as kinda gruff, even though you and I know he’s a teddy bear. And Mom, she’s just gonna fall in love with him, and I’m not ready for that just yet.” You chuckled as you heard Nick offer a hum of understanding on the other end of the phone. “Besides, he has a lot of respect for you, and you guys have a lot in common. I just think it would be great for the two of you to meet first,” you said.

“What do you mean he has a lot of respect for me?” Nick asked, sounding puzzled.

One of your brows quirked of its own accord and a smirk stretched across your lips. You’d unwittingly skipped over the best part — the best part for Nick, anyway.

“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” you asked smugly. “He remembered you. The first day we met, I told him my brother played in the Q, he asked my last name… and immediately, he remembered you.”

You heard Nick suck in a breath. “You can’t tell me shit like this, sis,” he said. “Annie always says my ego is already too big as it is, and you just inflated it even more.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, amused by his declaration.

“Well, that’s facts,” you replied. “He remembered the injury, but most of all, he remembered how good you were. He was really glad to hear you’re doing well now.”

“Marry him, or I will,” Nick deadpanned. You could tell he was trying to use humor to mask any emotions your statement had stirred up.

“Oh, Annie would love to hear you say that,” you scoffed, then you glanced at the clock above you. “Listen, I gotta get to the Coli, but I’ll—“

“Oh, my god, my name is Hayden, and my boyfriend is an Islanderrr! I have to get to the Coli to watch him playyy!” your brother mimicked ruthlessly.

You growled at Nick’s playful mocking of you and spat, “Hey, you want these B’s-Isles tickets next weekend or not?”

Immediately, Nick shaped up.

“Just kidding, my darling baby sister! I’ll let you go, and I’ll see you next weekend,” he said.

“Deal. I’ll call you once Mat and I go over the details and stuff,” you promised.

“Sounds good. I’ll talk to ya then. Hey — one more thing,” Nick said hurriedly.

“What’s that?” you inquired as you swung your handbag over your shoulder and grabbed your jacket from the hook in your entryway.

“Are you happy?” Nick asked, his voice more solemn than it had been throughout your entire conversation — more solemn than it almost ever was. Your lips stretched into a slow grin.

“Honestly, Nicky…” you began, a dreamy sigh leaving you as you paused pulling on your jacket. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m super happy.”

You could hear Nick smiling as he replied, “Good. I can tell. You deserve it, Hayd.”

“Thanks,” you answered softly. “It feels really good.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Nick retorted knowingly. You hummed in agreement and he added, “Alright, I’ll talk to you later. I love you, baby sis.”

“I love you, too, brother,” you replied. “Bye.”

You tapped the red button on your screen to end the call and slipped your jacket the rest of the way over your shoulders as you headed for the door. Just as you reached for the knob, your phone dinged with a text alert.

MB 😍: See you after the game, beautiful. Sushi and sleepover at my place tonight? Up to you. Just let me know 😘

You felt your cheeks warm as a smile stretched across your face, grinning like an idiot at your phone as you had every day for the last month — not that you cared. In fact, it was a welcome change from the sighs and eye rolls you used to emit when reading texts from your last significant other. You felt grateful for this new beginning, this flood of long-dormant feelings you didn’t know you’d ever feel again.

Your fingers flew easily across the keyboard as you typed your response: Sounds perfect. Count me in. Good luck, baby 💋

Within seconds, as you pulled the door closed and headed for the parking garage, his reply lit up your screen.

MB 😍: 🥰

Yeah, you couldn’t have said it better yourself.

_____

The next weekend after dinner, Nick stood with his arm wrapped around Annie’s shoulders, waving goodbye as he watched you and Mat turn and walk down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant hand in hand. Annie squeezed Nick’s waist as he sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Annie asked with a soft smile.

Nick shook his head.

“Nothin’,” he said. “Absolutely nothing is the matter. That kid is… I mean, he’s somethin’ else, huh?”

Annie chuckled thoughtfully.

“He really is,” she agreed. “I’ve known your sister since she was a kid, and I’ve never seen her so giddy as she was today with him.”

“Yeah, me either,” Nick said, his voice sounding far away. “I feel like… I dunno, I feel like this might be the real thing. I know it sounds crazy to say that already.”

Annie grinned, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I don’t think it’s crazy,” she said. “I think they’re really in love.”

Nick breathed a laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Who woulda thought? My sister and an Islander. Shit.”

_____

“Don’t freak out,” Mat spoke, an anxious smirk on his face as his eyes glimmered.

“Maty!” you whined. “You’re scaring me. What the hell is it?” you asked, your eyes landing once more on the white box tied with a blue satin ribbon.

“Just open it,” Mat instructed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as you studied him cautiously.

You shook your head, wondering what on earth he was up to, but pulled the ribbon to loosen the bow nonetheless. You pulled the top of the box off and peeled away the tissue paper beneath to reveal a denim jacket, the name “BARZAL” and the number 13 embroidered in blue and orange on the back, along with an Isles logo, a blue heart, and plenty of gemstones.

You silently looked toward Mat, who gazed at you expectantly.

“It’s a WAG jacket,” he explained. “You’ve probably seen some of the girls wear them to games.”

You nodded slowly, unable to think of even a single-word response. You knew what it was. You just couldn’t believe it was yours.

You looked back down to the jacket, then finally back at Mat. He moved from his seat on the couch to sit beside you on the loveseat, taking your hand.

“Listen, I know it’s still really early on, but, I… it just felt like a no brainer to me, Hayd,” he said, his words rushed. “You totally don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to — there’s no pressure. But with the playoffs coming up, Syd asked me if I wanted to have one made for you, and I said I did. I didn’t know if I should clear it with you first, but I wanted to surprise you with it, so I—”

“You… you want me to wear this to games?” you interrupted, your brows furrowed.

Mat’s own face contorted with confusion.

“Y-yeah… yeah, of course I do, baby,” he said. “You’re my girlfriend. And I want people to know it.”

You tried to hide your unsureness under a tight smile as you ran your fingers along the decals adorning the jacket, trailing your touch down the seams. You weren’t sure if you would ever get used to being someone that your significant other was proud of and wanted to show off to the world. Past that, you couldn’t believe that Mat had purchased this for you on his own, with no strings attached — just by looking at the custom item, you knew it had been far from cheap. Every day, Mat made you feel like the most special person in the world, and sometimes you weren’t sure why he bothered, or why he’d chosen you when he could have literally anyone else.

But instead of voicing what your insecurities and your past traumas were screaming at you, you simply decided to take Mat at his word — something you’d been working hard on since the start of this relationship. You flashed a million dollar smile and threw your arms around his neck.

“Thank you, Maty,” you whispered into his ear. You felt his arms tighten around you, his hands gently caressing your back. “This means so much to me.”

Mat smiled over your shoulder and kissed your temple.

“It means everything that you wanna wear it,” he told you, pulling back. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”

You beamed and glanced back down at the garment.

“You want me to try it on?” you asked excitedly, like a little kid just home from a back-to-school shopping spree.

Mat nodded, smiling. “I would love for you to try it on,” he assured.

You wasted no time pulling the jacket from the box and lifting it up. You put one arm into the first sleeve, and Mat guided the other arm after it. Upon closer inspection, you could see your own name embroidered into the wrist of the left sleeve, along with a date in matching script on the other sleeve.

“What’s this?” you asked, smoothing your finger along the thread as you held out your arm to Mat.

The corners of his lips ticked upward into a smile. “The day we met,” he said simply.

You met his eyes and immediately leaned in, grasping his face in one hand as you kissed him, overwhelmed by his constant thoughtfulness.

“Thank you,” you repeated, and Mat only nodded. He took your hands and squeezed.

“Stand up, show me,” he insisted.

You giggled and obliged, doing a little spin with your arms outstretched as Mat laughed.

“Wow, baby, it looks great on you,” he said, in awe. “I absolutely love it. Do you like it?”

You nodded, biting at your bottom lip.

“It’s perfect,” you said, smoothing your hands along the fabric. “I’m definitely wearing it to the next game.”

Mathew nodded, pleased to hear your declaration, and crooked his finger, inviting you closer. You stepped forward, rested your knees on the couch on either side of his lap, and looped your arms around his neck. Mathew began to peck at your lips, jaw, and neck playfully.

“You look,” kiss, “so good,” kiss, “with my name,” kiss, “on your back,” kiss, followed by a mischievous squeeze to your butt.

You felt heat rise from your chest, up your neck, to your face, and you leaned back to rid yourself of the jacket and carefully toss it onto the back of the couch, causing Mat to pout his lips.

You shook your head, placing your index finger to his pucker.

“For what I have planned to say thank you, I’m not gonna wanna be wearing anything nice,” you told him, removing your finger to kiss his lips.

Mat raised his eyebrows and hummed his approval.

“How about not wearing anything at all?” he asked, cockiness in his tone as he tugged at your t-shirt. Following his cues, you removed it from your body and tossed it onto the floor.

“Whatever you say, Barzal,” you said, though Mat was too focused on your lacy bra to think of a response.

Instead, he hoisted you over his shoulder as you squealed with laughter, hauling you to the bedroom and leaving the denim jacket to be worn another day.

#happy birthday ker #mathew barzal #mat barzal #m.barzal #m. barzal #my writing #mathew barzal writing #mathew barzal fanfiction #mat barzal writing #mat barzal fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction #new york islanders #islanders #barzal

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Lost & Found - 8

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: Happy Wednesday! I hope your week is going well so far, enjoy this update! Let me know your thoughts!

Chapter 8. Face Yourself

series masterlist

“You know, I kind of expected to see you again.” Christina leads me into her home, waiting for me to remove my shoes before walking further into the house. It has an industrial look to it, giving off a generally cold feeling. Something about it though makes the house feel warm.

It’s probably Christina. Despite not being overjoyed to see me, she still emits a friendly aura. That is, until Elle decides to hop out and snoop about.

“Er…” Christina rubs her nose harshly, eyeing my cat. “I’m actually pretty allergic to cats…”

I launch into action, scooping Elle up in my arms even though she protests with a pitiful hiss. “I’m so sorry, if I’d have known-”

“It’s not your fault,” Christina replies, gesturing toward a familiar gray door. “Are you alright with leaving your cat in the warehouse while we chat?”

Nodding, I walk over and pry the door open. A blast of cool air hits me, taking my breath away and resulting in a sigh of long-suffering from Elle. Christina reaches into the warehouse, flicking on the light and the heat.

“Would your cat like...um...a bowl of milk? To sip on while she waits?”

I can’t help but smile at Christina’s offer. Glancing down at Elle, I watch the way her tail flicks back and forth as she wanders about the warehouse. “That would be great, actually.”

Once Elle has been taken care of and Christina has moved us to her kitchen, I allow myself to recall the events of a couple weeks ago. I’m passed a mug of apple cider, heart aching at the similarities from before.

Christina offers me a seat on one of the stools, standing on the opposite side of the island. She takes a long sip of the cider, a faraway look in her eyes. I wonder if she’s remembering the last time we shared a drink together.

When I told her who my soulmate was, and she suddenly became very, very quiet.

“So what brings you back here?” Christina asks, finally breaking the memory-laden silence. I look at the mug in my hands for a long moment, collecting my thoughts.

“I…” my vision clouds over for a moment, and I take a deep breath. Once the tears have receded, I try again. “I’ve been told to come to terms with my actions. With all that I’ve done wrong.”

“To make it right?” Christina asks, her expression betraying nothing of her innermost thoughts. “Because like I said, I don’t do refunds. Can’t, actually.”

I finally look up at Christina, really looking at her for the first time.

Her hair is dark and thick, falling below her ribcage. It’s long. Today it’s down, lightly curled.

It makes her look soft. Normal.

So at odds with her choice in profession.

“No,” I respond. “No, not that. I’ve been instructed to...to forgive myself…?”

Christina blinks, resting her elbows against the countertop. “You don’t sound very convinced.”

“That’s probably because I’m not.”

Nodding along, Christina looks down at her hands. She begins to trace the lines in her palms, allowing herself a moment to think. After a few heartbeats, she looks back up at me. “It sounds like you’re seeing someone about this,” she points to my left hand that I have wrapped around the mug. The cut thread hangs there, barely touching the top of the island.

“I am.”

“A trained professional?”

“Yes.”

She lets out what appears to be a sigh of relief. “Good.” Flicking her hair over her shoulder - how did I never notice how long her hair is? - she furrows her brows ever so slightly. “So...why are you here? Not that I want you to leave, I’m just a little confused. Isn’t this place...aren’t I a part of your problem?”

I blink, letting her words sink in. “Christina, you’re not a problem to be fixed.”

An indescribable emotion flickers across her face, but it’s gone before I can put a name to it. Instead she straightens up, moving to put the apple cider back in the fridge. “Then explain to me just what you plan to do here today.”

With her back turned to me I have no idea what she’s thinking or if I’ve already overstepped my bounds, but I venture on. “Well...I don’t really get it. You know, the forgiving part. I’ve heard about it a lot, sure. I guess I just don’t have a lot of practice in it, though.” Christina turns back around, resuming her spot across the island from me. “And it just seemed to me like maybe you do, I guess.”

She’s back to tracing her palm now, absorbing my request. Slowly, she tilts her head to one side, looking at me with unadulterated curiosity. “You want me to teach you how to forgive yourself?”

I nod hesitantly, hoping it’s the right answer. Christina scoffs, a challenge in her eyes.

“How can I teach you about forgiveness when it’s clear you don’t want to forgive yourself?”

“W-what-”

“You want me to explain it to you step by step? It isn’t something that you can just check off of a to-do list, Jolie. I need you to understand that.” Christina rises up to her full height, running her hands through her hair. “You can’t just move through the motions and hold yourself up to the list of qualifications for forgiveness and hope you make it. Because you won’t. Every single time, you will fall short. We all do. And it really sucks, but it’s true. How do you think people find it in them to forgive themselves when they’re completely aware of just how much they’re lacking?”

My heart hammers, the truthfulness in her words pounding into me like an anvil. At a loss, my mouth simply opens and closes like a fish. She sees my dilemma, raising her eyebrows.

“Because they care.” Christina lets out a deep breath, her eyes never leaving my face. I feel absolutely naked before her, all of my flaws laid out like a buffet. It’s impossible for me to move, to run away, though. I can hardly breathe as is. She continues on, a fire in her eyes.

“They care enough about themselves to know that even though they will never meet the expectations laid out for them, they deserve to be forgiven.” Christina’s voice comes out thick with emotion, unshed tears welling up in her eyes. “And that is what you lack, Jolie. You want to suffer. You want to use the pain that’s building up inside of you as some sort of way to atone for what you’ve done. But it doesn’t work like that.”

Sitting there at Christina’s kitchen island, the words hanging in the air above me, I can’t find it in me to lie. Not when this woman stands before me, battle-worn from life and still fighting, would know in an instant.

I can’t lie to myself anymore.

Eyes falling to my mug of apple cider, I see myself reflected in its murky contents. My own pitiful, broken self staring back at me.

“I’m so tired of lying to myself,” I whisper. I hardly notice Christina coming around the island and taking up a spot beside me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

When I finally find it in me to look at her, I see nothing but calm understanding.

Like she knows. Like she’s been here before, in some capacity. Judging from the severed thread she sports, chances are she knows exactly what sort of heart-wrenching pain is wracking my soul right now.

With a soft, heart-broken smile, Christina whispers back, “Then start with the truth.”

✂

“Honestly, she’s a fool for not texting you back. That last text you sent was gold.” Jin stares at an unopened box of churros, rubbing his belly before leaning forward to pry it open. “Pure gold, I tell you.”

“Yeah,” Jimin cringes as he watches Jin take a bite of the churro. They’ve eaten to the point of stomach-aches. “That’s because you wrote it.”

“Exactly.”

Jimin’s cell phone sits in the middle of the table, under constant surveillance by the seven boys. An hour has passed since he sent off the last text to Jolie; a quip about how Elle must have taken pity on him.

When he hadn’t received a message within the first two minutes, he’d wanted to send something else. Taehyung had stopped him, ordering him to eat and breathe for a few minutes. What had begun as a temporary distraction had now dragged on for far too long, in Jimin’s opinion.

With dread in his stomach, he asks, “What if she’s freaked out about texting a guy so soon after everything? She’s probably not in a place to even think about talking with other guys. Do you think she’s ghosting me?”

This makes even Jin pause in his act of gorging himself, swallowing harshly and launching himself into a coughing fit. Jungkook slaps him on the back, frowning.

“No…” the maknae protests weakly. “She wouldn’t ghost you...would she?”

“Well, she doesn’t really have the best track record when it comes to me,” Jimin jokes, the attempt falling flat as everyone sullenly agrees.

Sighing, Taehyung grabs Jimin’s phone and extends it to him. “What are you gonna say?”

Unlocking his phone, Jimin sighs heavily. “Erm...apologize for the lame joke?”

“Hey!” Jin feigns offense, taking an angry bite of his churro.

“Good move,” Taehyung whispers. Jimin chuckles, pulling up the text conversation. Once he types out the message, he shows it to his members. They all agree, although Jin does so a little sulkily.

“Ok and...sent.”

Me: Sorry for the dumb joke...I guess it wasn’t as funny as I initially thought 😅

Jimin sets the phone back down on the edge of the table, struggling to stomp down on the hope growing in his chest. No matter what he does, he can’t stop seeing Jolie in his mind. The way she smiled at Elle, hauling her groceries up to her apartment.

How can his soulmate live so close to him and yet still be so far away?

Namjoon groans as he sits up, looking at an email he just received on his phone. Hobi frowns, reading over his shoulder.

“What is it?” Jimin asks. Namjoon and Hobi share a look before seemingly coming to an agreement.

“It’s just another message from Bang PD,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing his face. “Fans are still...freaking out about everything.”

Jimin blinks, having almost forgotten about the outside world for a moment. “What are they doing?”

“They’re just convinced that Bighit is hiding your soulmate, trying to control the situation. Some of them are fine with it, but there’s a significant amount that are offended.”

“Mainly offended because they think that you don’t trust them enough to still show up to our events,” Yoongi clarifies, giving the younger boy an apologetic smile. Jimin’s eyes become glazed over, mind running rampant with what people must be saying about him.

Hobi jumps in, hating to see that look on Jimin’s face. “But we’re taking the ‘no comment’ route, remember? So they’ll just have to sit tight until you’re ready to come back.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Namjoon speaks again. “Bang PD is just a little worried about our upcoming muster. You know, about fan’s reactions when you aren’t there and-”

“I’ll come.”

Everyone looks to Jimin in pure shock, Taehyung immediately jumping in. “No, it’ll be fine Jiminie, really. You don’t need to come. It’s only been two weeks, take more time.”

Jimin hardly even blinks. “And the muster is in...what, five days? That’s about three weeks of a break for me. I can’t just sit around like this anymore, you guys. I’m losing it.”

Jungkook speaks up from where he’d been quietly sitting beside Jin. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you need to jump back into full concert mode. That’s too much to ask of yourself.”

Everyone seems inclined to agree, already nodding their heads. Jimin sees his window of opportunity closing, and takes a shot before it’s gone.

“One song.” Jimin scoots onto the edge of the sofa, running a hand through his hair. “Just let me do one song with you guys. Enough to let everyone see me, that I’m alright. That they don’t need to...worry about me hiding a soulmate from them.”

“I don’t know, Jimin…” Namjoon begins, twirling his phone in his hands. “It’s probably going to be really intense, and once you get out there you can never go back to the peace you’ve got right now. People will be practically knocking down our door to get answers.”

“I know. Just...I want to see them.” Glancing down at his phone which still hasn’t received a text back, Jimin sighs. “Just one song. I can’t hide forever. And I don’t think I want to.”

Namjoon begrudgingly agrees to bring it up with Bang PD, not promising anything. Either way, Jimin lets out a sigh of relief at the thought of possibly getting to perform soon. Despite the certain problems that are bound to follow, at least he can hold a mic again. See Army.

He’s not completely sure if it’s the right time, but it feels like the right step. Staring at his phone and praying for it to light up with a message from his soulmate, Jimin voices his thoughts aloud.

“I think she needs to know that she hasn’t wrecked my life beyond repair, you know?” Reaching forward, he flips his phone so he can no longer see the screen. “I can live with the pain.”

✂

“Just because you can survive the pain doesn’t mean you should consign yourself to a life full of it.”

Christina is on her second mug of apple cider, the smell of blueberry muffins permeating the air in the living room. We moved here to a little while ago, Christina deeming this conversation worthy of her comfy couches.

I nod along with wide eyes, almost wishing that I had a notebook with me. The way that Christina speaks to me makes me want to write down every word.

Pure honesty. That’s what it is.

“Can I ask what made you get into this business?” I ask, suddenly needing to know more about what made Christina the way that she is.

A dark cloud intercepts Christina’s kind gaze, and she chews on the inside of her cheek for a moment. “I...it’s a long story.”

“Do I look like I have a life?” My comment earns me a sharp chuckle from Christina, who gets into a more comfortable position on the couch. The grays and white undertones of the room makes the small fire in the fireplace pop out all the more.

“Good point. Either way, I’m not a very big fan of going into too much detail where my story is concerned.” Setting her mug down on the coffee table, she takes a deep breath in before letting it out. “Long story short...I met my soulmate. Fell in love with him, actually.”

My eyes instinctively fall to her cut thread, my stomach knotting up with whatever dreadful fact is coming next.

“What I considered to be a pure, beautiful relationship turned into something like Stockholm Syndrome. My soulmate he...he believed that I was his, and only his. He slowly cut off all communication with my family, my friends. At first I didn’t notice what he was doing, but when I came to my senses...let’s just say I did everything in my power to get out.”

I remain frozen in my seat, heart nearly stopping. “Christina, that’s horrible.”

“It was. But the moral of the story is that I got out. I got help. And in turn, I help others the only way I know how.” She glances down at my left hand, something like regret lingering there in her eyes. “I don’t usually ask my clients any questions. I know when I was running and trying to cut my thread, the last thing I wanted was to bring up my history. However, with you...I wish I would’ve asked.”

It stings, but it makes sense. I fidget a little in my seat, twirling my thread around my finger. “Would you have turned me away if you knew the truth?”

Christina sits quietly for a moment, chewing on the question. “I definitely would have tried to get you to think it through a bit more. Maybe I would have turned you away, I don’t know. If I’d have known that Park Jimin was on the other end of that string....I don’t know if I would have been able to stomach doing that to him.”

I nod. It would appear that in my desperation, I’d forgotten that my decisions would harm more people than just those directly connected to the thread around my finger.

“I’m assuming you’re a fan?” I ask a little drily. Like flicking on a switch, Christina’s eyes light up.

“Oh, absolutely. But especially of Jimin.” I feel my eyebrows arch, a fresh wave of guilt sluicing through me. Christina doesn’t begin to curse me, though. “You know his song ‘Promise’? On those days after I’d cut the thread and felt my will slipping, like I might go back to my soulmate after everything he’d done to me...I’d listen to that song. I’d promise myself over and over again that I wouldn’t throw it all away. I guess you could say that, in a way, he saved me.”

The fire pops and hisses in the fireplace, filling the temporary silence. Christina grabs her mug, taking another sip before realizing that it’s empty. She gets up, excusing herself while she goes to the kitchen to get some more cider.

Alone in the small living room, I stare at that fire while different thoughts vie for my attention. Watching the flames, I stumble upon another truth. One that blasts a door open on my understanding of the past two weeks. Of what drove me here, to Christina’s, on that fateful night. Thread in tow, begging for it to be cut.

Jimin creates. He creates beautiful opportunities for people, second chances for people like Christina who so desperately needed one. He’s there, for people he’s never met and never will meet, cheering them on in their endeavors.

And me? I destroy. I’ve always seen that in myself. So when I saw Jimin up on stage that night, completely entranced by him as he bounced around and danced and smiled, I knew that there was a stark difference between us. I could admire that difference, from a distance.

Yet when I saw the way my string followed his ever so slightly...as my eyes traced the thread between us, coming to the same conclusion every time that it was Park Jimin who was on the other side, I believed it to be a mistake.

How could I be paired with someone so good? How could a devil be tied to an angel?

And yet...Christina reenters the room, smiling warmly at me as though I wasn’t the one that made her unknowingly cause harm to one of her idols. It’s Christina, who sits across from me with her third cup of apple cider, that makes me realize that perhaps fate was right all along.

Christina destroys bonds for a living. She destroys seemingly unbreakable bonds, for a price. And what is supposed to be the most horrifying profession of all, comes from a place of sympathy. Of charity.

Perhaps destruction clears the path for creation.

Maybe, just maybe, Park Jimin and I are a perfect match.

✂

The moon has risen by the time Jimin gets a reply. He’s just fallen onto his bed, his hair still wet from his shower, when his phone vibrates.

He nearly rolls off of his bed and onto the floor in an attempt to retrieve his phone, but he manages to stay upright. His heart launches into a frenzy at the sight of Jolie’s name on his phone, and immediately he’s back to replaying the scene of her in his head.

Jolie (Elle): Sorry, I was visiting a friend and lost track of time. And yes, the joke was lame. I’m glad that you can admit it 😂

Jimin chuckles, making a mental note to tell Jin that his joke really was lame. He stares at the screen for a moment longer, struggling to come up with something to reply. Before he can write anything, however, three dots pop up as Jolie types something in.

He stares and stares at those three dots, sucking on his bottom lip. When the text comes through, he lets out a shout of triumph.

Jolie (Elle): Also, I think that Elle misses you. Either that or she’s mad at me for ignoring her

Taking a deep breath, Jimin types out a reply. He rereads it a couple of times before giving in and hitting send.

Me: I’m sure she does. How dare you ignore her? Don’t you know that she’s royalty?

Jolie (Elle): Oh no.

Jolie (Elle): She’s got you wrapped around her finger.

Me: I think you meant paw 😼

Jolie (Elle): This entire conversation is ridiculous, I hope you know that 😂

Huffing out a laugh, Jimin brings his pillow to his chest. Oh, he’s aware of the ridiculous nature of the conversation. But if it’s the only way he can communicate with his soulmate, then so be it.

Me: I’m aware, don’t worry. I’d better let you get some rest. Give Elle some cuddles for me, will you?

A part of him hopes that Jolie will protest, insisting that they talk for longer. However, he gets the next best thing.

A photo of Elle, sitting at the end of a bed and looking at the camera like she’s posing for a portrait. Jolie sends a message a heartbeat later.

Jolie (Elle): She won’t let me touch her right now...she’s still angry 😂 but when she forgives me, I’ll be sure to tell her that the cuddles are from you.

Jolie (Elle): Goodnight!

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Jimin whispers to himself in an attempt to calm his beating heart. He stares at the photo for a moment longer, taking in as much detail as he possibly can. Jolie isn’t in it, but the outline of her legs under the blanket are enough to remind Jimin that this is real. It’s all real.

And he’ll talk to her tomorrow.

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#bts fluff #jimin fluff #jimin soulmate au #bts soulmate au #bts red string of fate #jimin angst #bts angst #bts sad #jimin sad #jimin smau #bts smau #bts x oc #jimin x oc #jimin x soulmate #bts x soulmate #armywriterssupport

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just-the-hiddles · 3 years

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Writer’s Spotlight | Nildespirandum

This week I am spotlighting one of my favorite writers, @nildespirandum! She is the Adam writer that made me both scared and brave enough to write Adam myself. She is the weaver of worlds, the creator of characters so real you think they are sitting next to you. Smart, funny, and an amazing writer!

Catch all of Nildespirandum’s stories here.

What other names do you want people to call you?

I use Misreall on AO3.

How long have you been writing fic?

I am on this current round for about four years, but I did write before though that was a decade ago.

What fandoms and/or ships do you write?

Tom Hiddleston characters, though not RPF. Primarily Loki, but I have written for Thomas Sharpe, Adam from Only Lovers Left Alive, and Conrad from Kong: Skull Island. For all of them I have written OFCs.

How did you get started writing fic?

I had ideas for a fics for a while, but it wasn't until I started commenting and then talking to @caffiend-queen that I decided it was time to do something about it.

Story Recommendations

Which of your stories are your favorite?

I hate this question, but if I had to pick it would be the cycle of stories called Loki and Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist, both because it is my first, and because I think the relationship between the characters - not just Loki and Nora, but the cast that has build up around them - allows me to tell so many tales.

Which story are you most proud of?

Either Perfection - my Crimson Peak AU, or Reigning in Hel - A JotunLoki series.

Which of your stories do you think is the most underrated?

Probably At Hel's Edge, which is a historical mash-up of MCU Loki, with MythLoki. The people who read it loved, it but it never found much of an audience. Possibly because of the style I wrote it in, or maybe because the MCULoki character was a bit abstract from his origin. But I am very, very lucky that it is getting a second life as a Webtoon drawn by @rauko-art, who is incredibly gifted and has worked so hard to make something really beautiful.

Someone is new to reading your stories, which story/stories should they read first?

For Loki, the Infinity Stone Playlist. Otherwise, maybe Perfection.

Which story did you do the most research for?

Perfection. I can tell you how much a yard of silk cost in 1910, both in England and the US.

Which story was the easiest to write?

Probably my Incubus Loki first series. It was so over the top and goofy that it was effortless. Rapacity - my vampire Loki story - is also quite easy. There may be a trend here.

The Writing Process

What is your favorite part of writing?

To quote Dorothy Parker, "I hate writing, but I love having written." With that said, I love the moment when I am lost in the process, and the characters are narrating and I am taking dictation.

What is your least favorite part?

Editing, which is probably why I hardly ever do it. That said, I am fine editing other people's work.

Describe your style in 1 to 2 sentences.

Breezily conversational when it isn't breaking your heart.

Who are some of your writing idols and/or influences?

I don't have time, and you certainly wouldn't have the patience, for my full list but a few key choices are Jane Austen, Anthony Bourdain, Ian Shoales, Alexander Dumas, the Brothers Grimm, Neil Gaiman, Louisa May Alcott, Balzac, Mary Roach, Bebe Moore Campbell, Douglas Adams. But all of that said it was probably Howard Pyle, the D'aulaires, Zilpha Keatley Snyder, Winifred Madison, and Ruth Chew whose books I read over and over to the point of them falling apart are probably the writers who made me, not only on the page, but in life.

What programs do you use to write and/or edit?

I do all of my writing and editing in Google docs. I'm a Luddite at heart.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

A pantser. I might have some of a story in mind when I start, but usually I start with an image and let fly. The entirety of my Bottom of the Hourglass story came from my seeing a folded bookcase leaning against a basement door.

Do you write RPF or not?

Years ago I wrote an RPF as a gift for a friend. For the future, I never say never.

Who is your favorite character to write and why?

Loki. Loki is the gift that keeps on giving. While I could flippantly say that all of that emotional and mental trauma is fic writer catnip - and I wouldn't be lying - there is so much more. He is a character of such wit and imagination, powerful, funny, wise, and a complete idiot. The Trickster is such brilliant architype, playing both sides of the fence, fooling and being fooled, capable of great good and true evil. He is vastly entertaining, and achingly sympathetic. I can go on, but I will spare you.

What do you think are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, for one. I am proud that if you read the dialogue alone from my stories you can tell who each character is, that they all have a distinct voice.

What do you struggle with?

Plot. I get so very bored with plot.

Favorite Trope?

That's like being asked to pick a favorite anything, I can't do it. Ok, fine, enemies to lovers.

Favorite word to use?

Delightful. Or Really.

What is the best piece of writing advice you have heard?

Make time for your writing. Even when you think you can't.

What would you say to a new fanfic writer starting out?

Don't be afraid, don't shrink and hide and diminish yourself, you have to be your own first, best audience. Also, always remember, art doesn't apologize and neither should you, as long as you feel you have given the best you can at any given time - which will not always be the same, EVERYONE has off days - then be proud of having written, of having added to the world.

What is a random bit of research you have not managed to work into a fic yet?

I did so much research on boats and ship to ship combat for my pirate story that I will never use all of it. Generally I am pretty efficient with my research, mostly because I already have a brainful of useless knowledge that I am still trying to make pay off.

What is your favorite random detail from one of your stories?

I love that in the later Infinity Stone Playlist stories Loki's various lounging robes have magical pockets that always produce cookies.

Any goals or WIPs you want to share?

I am determined to finish both The Frost Queen and The Tales of the Golden Horn this spring, and I have decided I am going to commit to the sequel to Perfection about Thomas and Alice's grandson that I have had in mind since I finished their story.

This or That

Fluff AND Angst

Smut AND Fluff

Reader or OC

One shot or Series

Canon Divergent AND AU

Coffee or Tea

Sweet or Savory

Anything else you want to say or share?

There is a tendency in fandom these days to see things that do not have a moral dimension as being good or bad, to only look at the most extreme edges of things and pass judgement on the whole. Life is hard enough, let people enjoy things.

Until next week!

#writer's spotlight #nildespirandum #loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #olla fanfiction #olla fanfic #loki x ofc #adam x ofc #crimson peak #writer's interview #writing advice #fanfiction writing

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