#lizas rambling again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 7 months

Text

Bad PR-Jordan Li Fic

A/N: I saw someone post about needing a fic about Jordan being in a relationship where they're "unmarketable" and haven't been able to get the idea out of my head since. This is written with a black reader in mind. I also have a sequel in mind if anyone wants it.

Word Count: 3739

Warnings: Some sensuality and swearing.

I don't claim to own any characters or property from Gen V or The Boys. All credit to the original gif creators.

Silence was something that I always thought I longed for. Every day for the past twenty years, there was noise, whether it was someone (usually multiple) talking, music blasting, cars going by, or screaming. By now, I thought I would have learned how to tune it out and focus on what was most important: save the little kids from a burning school, study as hard as I could to get into GOD U, and manipulate social media algorithms so much it would make tech experts’ heads spin.

But, I hadn’t. Then, I thought I got used to the noise, the demands to take pictures with total strangers, the background noise of a song I was doing a TikTok challenge to, Liza, my Vought-assigned PR rep, and my parents insisting on what I should wear, and the constant buzzing in the back of my head that my ability caused. However, as I laid on Jordan’s bed, listening to them ramble about Brink, I didn’t mind the noise so much.

“I mean, he’s kind of a mad genius but for good,” Jordan stated. Then, they turned to me with a sheepish smile on their face. “Sorry, I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

I shook my head. “No, no, it’s alright. Brink’s brilliant and it’s amazing that you’re his mentee.” I pushed myself up onto my elbows. “Besides, you’re pretty cute when you’re excited.”

Jordan rolled their eyes and slowly made their way towards me, stopping right at the foot of their bed. “Only when I’m excited?”

“Shut up, you know you always look good,” I teased.

They playfully flipped their hair and batted their eyes. “Well, we can’t all have a glam squad on call so I appreciate it.”

I scoffed, rose to my knees, and playfully pushed their shoulder only for them to switch to their masculine form and grab my hand. “That’s not fair and I didn’t even ask for them, my parents and Liza insisted on it when I got in.”

Jordan nodded but I could tell they weren’t listening since their eyes were on my lips. “I don’t feel like talking anymore.”

Something about their deeper masculine voice sent tingles down my spine and made my stomach feel fuzzy. Then again, they easily caused the same effect in both forms. My breath caught in my throat as soon as our lips touched, and I could feel my heart rate pick up. I tried to relax in their gentle but firm grip as I wrapped my hands around their neck, but it was easier said than done.

Suddenly, my back was against their bed and the kissing got more fervent. Jordan slipped their tongue down my throat and trailed one of their hands down my leg. I shivered as they pulled my leg up around their hip and pressed further into me.

“I should’ve known this is what you meant when you said you wanted to hang out,” I breathed after pulling away for a second.

“I had good intentions but you kept screwing me with your eyes,” Jordan huffed back.

“No, I---” Jordan cut me off, switching to their feminine form and kissing my jaw, working their way down my neck. “Not…fair.”

One of their hands slowly started trailing up under my (their) sweatshirt and I tried to stifle my giggles at the soft touch. After a couple of seconds, I couldn’t help but start giggling and covered my face when Jordan paused their actions and looked up at me.

“Still ticklish?” Jordan teased.

“Shut up, it’s your fault since they're your hands,” I groaned through another laugh.

Jordan smirked at me and ran their hands down my waist, gently tapping my sides, causing more laughter on my end. I tried to reach for their hands to stop them but they were too good at dodging me. At some point during my laughter, my phone started ringing.

“Ignore it,” Jordan whined as they pressed their head against my stomach, their big brown eyes somehow looking bigger and browner than usual.

“I can’t,” I whined back as I pulled away from them and grabbed my phone from my desk. “It’s Liza, I have to answer.”

Jordan rolled their eyes. “That bitch has the worst timing.”

“She might not be able to help it.” I quickly answered the phone. “Hey, Liza.”

“Y/N, I’m on campus and we need to talk ASAP. Meet me outside the Crimefighting building in five,” Liza rattled off.

“Oh, sure, what’s it about?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you when I see you.”

She clicked off and I turned to Jordan, who was much less than pleased.

“Let me guess, you have to go,” they said.

“I’m sorry, it sounded important,” I said as I started grabbing my stuff from around their room. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

“No, don’t worry about it.” They pushed themselves off the bed and stood in front of me, gently grabbing my hands in theirs. “It’s your career and I’m proud of you. I knew what I was getting into when the Cyclone became my girlfriend.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Ugh, don’t say it like that. But I appreciate you and I will show you as much later.” I quickly kissed them and grabbed my shoes. Just as I was about to leave, I paused at something in their closet. “Is that my jacket?”

Jordan shook their head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I snatched the item from the closet and held it out. “Jordan, you’re going to try to convince me that you’re into vintage Yves Saint Laurent?”

“Your taste rubbed off on me,” they said with a shrug.

“I’m flattered.” I put it back in their closet.

“By the way, do you know where my black hoodie went?”

“See you later!”

About four and a half minutes later, I was sitting at an outdoor table with Liza and my parents. Despite the summer heat, Liza was wearing a navy skirt suit, and her graying black hair was tied into a severe bun on the top of her head. She was typing on two different phones and her laptop simultaneously, deep blue eyes never staying on anything too long. My mom, who sat on my right, smiled kindly.

“So, Y/N, how does it feel to be a junior?” she asked.

“Great, Mom. I thought I told you and Dad that you didn’t have to hover this much since I am a junior now,” I said, glancing at my dad who was on my other side.

“We’re not hovering, it’s been two days since we dropped you off,” Dad insisted. “Besides, this is about business.”

“Wha---”

“Oh my gosh, is that Y/N Y/L/N?” Someone squealed behind me.

“Show time,” I sighed.

The “someone” was actually two someones, a pair of what looked like freshmen. One was a tall, pretty brunette in a white graphic tee and matching mini skirt and the other was an equally pretty, slightly shorter brunette wearing jean shorts and Vans. The taller one held her V-Phone with a death grip.

“Can we take a picture with you?” The taller one asked.

“Of course.” I stood from my seat and made my way over to them.

“I can take it.” But before my mom could stand, Liza shot up from her seat, grabbed the phone, and ushered us closer together.

“Okay, Y/N in the middle, Tall Girl on the left, Short One on the right,” Liza instructed, eyes never looking up from the camera.

“It’s Ashley,” the short one said.

“Smile!”

I did as I was told and the girls were walking away before I could even say an obligatory, “No problem.”

Both my parents smiled as I sat back down.

“It’s great to see that you’re still popular after all this time,” Dad said, his eyes hidden behind his tinted sunglasses.

“As she should be. Y/N has thirty million followers across all her social media and she does amazing in the Midwest and the South, both tough demographics for young black women,” Liza stated.

“Thanks, Liza,” I said, mindlessly playing with the ends of my butterfly locs. “So, you mentioned you were coming but left out my parents.”

At this, Liza finally paused from typing and looked up at me. She slowly set her elbows on the table and rested her chin on top of her pale hands. My head involuntarily started shaking from side to side and Liza lifted one of her hands.

“Let me speak first, Y/N, and then we can argue about it,” Liza stated.

“The last time you said that, I ended up almost getting mauled by a dog during an animal shelter livestream,” I hissed.

“Well, the dog had a serious history of trauma,” Liza insisted.

“You didn’t inform me of that before insisting I cuddle with it for the camera!”

“It was a learning lesson: you are fantastic under pressure.”

I huffed and folded my arms over my chest. “So, what is this about?”

Liza assumed her previous “Serious business” pose. “Like I was saying, you’re doing fantastic numbers. That last TikTok you and Cate did hit a hundred million views in less than twenty-four hours.”

“The ‘Rover’ challenge wasn’t that hard,” I commented.

“That’s amazing!” Mom practically cheered.

“That’s my girl,” Dad said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

I smiled despite the strong sense that a “but” was coming.

“However,” Liza continued.

Uh oh.

“My job is to do everything in my power to make sure everyone associates Y/N Y/L/N and Cyclone with beauty, intelligence, grace, taste, and power. So, we are a little concerned about Jordan.”

Immediately, my shoulders tensed and I gritted my teeth. “Who exactly is ‘we’?” I glanced at my parents.

Mom’s eyes widened and I had no idea what Dad was doing.

“No, of course not, Sweetie, we love Jordan. They have been a fantastic influence on you,” Mom insisted.

I could feel my face warm up about what had transpired with Jordan a few minutes ago. I doubt that would fall under “good influence”, or any time we went out with the others.

“And they give you a run for your money when it comes to combat. You need someone challenging like them. Plus, that Luke boy isn’t bad either,” Dad added.

As their words sunk in, I had a strange feeling that my parents were there to lessen a Vought-sized blow. My suspicions were confirmed when Liza’s lips pressed more firmly together and she was glancing at one of her phones.

“Are you reading a script right now?” I seethed.

Liza’s head shot up and she shook her head. “No, no, Y/N, not at all. Just some notes.” She quickly regrouped. “I understand that you’re happy and you’re probably having some fantastic sex right now----”

“Liza!” I interrupted, praying that the ground would open and swallow me whole.

Suddenly, Dad’s arm was back at his side, and Mom was suddenly very captivated by a pair of seniors skateboarding past.

“But the facts are that a bi-gender Asian supe is not marketable in the Deep South or the Midwest,” Liza said. “I am not shaming Jordan for who they are but, my job is to sustain your relatable-but-unattainable brand and not let anything get in the way of it.”

“You’re saying my partner is a threat to my career?” I asked, my voice much hollower than I intended.

“Potentially. Now, I have come up with a very good alternative.” Liza turned her laptop so it was facing my parents and me. On it was a picture of Andre and some clips of us on social media. “Andre Anderson tested very well. Our focus group members responded positively to the black power couple aesthetic.”

“We’ve met him before, he’s nice,” Mom offered.

“He’s cool and I’ve met his dad and I could see us all getting along,” Dad mentioned.

My head was swirling with so many thoughts that I was convinced I was either going to be overwhelmed by them or find one that was coherent enough to state. My mouth settled on, “It’s the twenty-first century and you’re all telling me I have to break up with my partner because of demographics? Jordan’s an amazing supe and they’re so smart, it’s scary. They can do---will do so much good and the only thing you care about is optics?”

Mom gently touched my arm. “Y/N, please, calm down.”

When I glanced around, I noticed that several Vought-A-Burger wrappers, a couple of cigarettes, and a few panicked squirrels and rabbits were swirling around the table. Quickly, I released the small animals and put the trash in the nearby receptacle.

“Sorry about that,” I muttered, eyeing Liza.

“I understand that you have strong feelings for Jordan but, think about it. With the right moves, you could be living in The Tower with the legends of your generation. Sure, you’re number three at GOD U right now, but this status can easily go away. You’ve worked your entire life to be the hero that little black girls everywhere look up to. Don’t take Cyclone away from them before she even starts,” Liza warned.

I desperately wanted to say something snarky, but my mind was blank. The only thing I could sense was my throat tightening up and my eyes beginning to well. I brushed a loc out of my face to play it off and tried to gain my thoughts.

“How much time do I have before I make a decision?” I asked.

“Twenty-four hours. I’ll be looking out for your call, text, email, or video call,” Liza stated as she started to pack her things.

My parents stood and Mom gave me one of her warm hugs and Dad pulled me to his side.

“It will be okay, Y/N,” he whispered.

I swallowed the giant lump in my throat to thank him and then insisted on walking them back to their car.

A few hours later, Elle Woods was sobbing in the fanciest restaurant in California while I carefully placed my baking pan in the oven. As much as I wanted to sob, I had no time for tears, I had to think. The thinking led me to have so many circular thoughts that my head spun and I resorted to baking and watching my favorite movie.

If Elle could solve a murder case and exonerate her client as a first-year law student, I should be able to figure out this PR mess. On the one hand, I was happier with Jordan than I’ve ever been with anyone. On the other hand, my dreams and my family’s position were hanging by a thread.

Maybe it was better that I channeled my energy into baking cupcakes.

I exhaled a small gust of wind to clear the bowls and utensils from the counter and place them in the dishwasher. Then, I focused on pushing multiple gusts of wind from my hands to clean the counters and wash the dishes. By the time I was done, I was exhausted and flopped on my couch to mindlessly watch the movie.

Unfortunately, the bright and colorful backdrop of Elle’s LSAT studying montage did nothing to take my mind off my dilemma. All I could think about was Jordan’s face when I told them. Breaking up with them would be like shooting a puppy’s mom in front of the puppy and making it watch it bleed out.

How would I tell them anyway? Hey, babe, I’m sorry I had to run out on us almost hooking up to meet with Liza and my parents. Funny story, they want me to break up with you so that I have a shot at a career and date Andre instead. See you for that morning lecture?

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The sound jolted me from my thoughts, and I pushed myself off the couch to answer it. “Rufus, if you try to get me into your room again, I swear to----” I cut myself off at the sight of Jordan, in their feminine form, staring back at me.

They wore a navy sweatshirt and black sweatpants. Also, their cheeks were more flushed than usual and they smelled like their sandalwood body wash, meaning they had probably stopped by the gym recently.

“Is Rufus bothering you again? I’ll go murder him right now,” Jordan said.

I quickly grabbed their wrist. “No, I appreciate the thought but I’m fine, besides, I can take care of myself.”

“I know but I can’t help but worry.”

A strange warm, tingling sensation ran its way from the center of my chest throughout the rest of my body. I was sure that if someone listened closely enough, they would hear me buzzing.

I stepped aside to let Jordan in and leaned against the door to close it. “So, what brings you by?”

They wandered over to my couch, sat down, and grabbed my phone off the coffee table. “Because you haven’t been answering my texts or calls.”

“Crap, I am so sorry, Jordan, I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

Jordan glanced around my dorm. “I can see that.” They sniffed the air. “Legally Blonde and you’re baking, what happened at the meeting?”

Of course, Jordan would cut straight to the point. Usually, this kind of banter was pleasant but my stomach was in knots as Liza’s words and my parents’ expressions replayed in my mind.

“What? I can’t bake and watch a comfort movie after a last-minute PR meeting?” I asked rhetorically, crossing the room to my desk to start organizing my textbooks.

“Don’t try to deflect, Y/N. Tell me what happened.” Their voice was gentle but firm and I knew that they were not going to let me out of this conversation.

So, I set Brink’s latest book down and sat across from Jordan on my tangerine accent chair. I prayed that I would find the right words to say before blurting them out. As soon as I made eye contact with them, my chest tightened.

“Well, Liza surprised me by having my parents join us,” I started.

Jordan raised their eyebrows. “Shit, this is serious.”

“Uh-huh. Liza said that my numbers are doing great and I’m on track for a promising career.”

“And?”

I gulped. “And…she’s concerned that my personal choices might get in the way of that.”

Jordan frowned. “Personal choices? Every college kid known to man has done illicit substances and drank alcohol underage. You’ve never been caught doing any of that anyway.”

“You’re right but she wasn’t talking about partying; she was talking about us.”

As soon as the bomb rolled off my tongue, I saw its impact on Jordan, from the flashing expressions of confusion and anger to the clenching of their fists. I just wanted to make it stop.

“What?”

As I rambled Liza’s reasoning, I could sense the hurt and animosity flowing from Jordan. Once I finished, the timer for the cupcakes went off and I jumped up to grab them. I could have cried at the momentary escape as I set them on the counter to cool.

“She weaponized your desire to be a positive role model for other girls who look like you to screw you over,” Jordan said slowly.

I wiped my hands on my sweatpants. “Liza’s doing her job, babe, and she’s looking at all angles, including how it could impact my goals.” I returned to my seat and folded my hands in my lap.

“Her job is to make you choose between your relationship and your career?” Jordan asked. “That’s bullshit, this whole thing is.”

“I know, Jordan, trust me, I know, I almost started a small tornado when she said it.”

Jordan eyed me closely for a second. “What else did she say?”

“What?”

“I can tell you’re holding back, Y/N. Whatever else you have to say, it can’t be any worse.”

They might have just jinxed that.

“Liza thinks that Andre would be a better fit for me because a bunch of people like the idea of a black power couple.”

Jordan had two angry responses: the first was they would attempt to tear down anything and everything around them unless consoled. The second was they would become unresponsive and deal with all their rage internally. That night, I got the second one. Their eyes were hollow and the color drained from their face. My eyes welled up as I hoped for them to start screaming, swearing, or something, but nothing happened.

“But I don’t want to do it, Jordan, I think it’s so stupid.” I knelt in front of them, grabbed my phone from their hands, and set it aside to hold them. “My parents don’t even really agree with Liza because they know you and they think you’re awesome.”

“What do you think?” they muttered.

“Like I said, I think it’s stupid. We can figure something else out. Liza can spin us as the ultimate diverse power couple, huh?” I did my best to smile as widely as I could. “Come on, let’s forget about this. I made white velvet cupcakes with cream cheese filling. You can be my first taste tester once they cool.”

Things would work out, they had to. We would figure something out and survive our junior year at GOD U with little to no incidents. Suddenly, Jordan’s hands slipped from my grasp and they shifted to their masculine form.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” Jordan whispered.

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“I mean, you don’t necessarily have to be a supe but, I know that you’re scared for your parents. Your success has helped them a lot and it could destroy them if your reputation takes a hit,” they said. “And I’ve seen how little black girls light up when they see you now and how passionate you are about helping them and, I know that you’re just getting started and I don’t want to be in the way.” “Jordan…”

“I don’t want to hold you back anymore, Y/N,” they muttered.

Their words sunk deep into my core like a boulder and took all my words with it. I wanted to tell them that they could never hold me back and that they made me a better super, a better person. But all I could do was watch as they stood and walked out of my dorm, taking our one and a half year relationship with them.

#jordan li x reader #jordan li imagine #black!reader

668 notes · View notes

gnpwdrnwhiskey · 2 months

Text

something in the orange - two

a Dieter Bravo x ofc!Ava in another life AU

pairing - Dieter & Ava

word count - 1500ish

warnings - this was supposed to be more angsty, but Dieter wasn't really having it, so besides a mention of Ava's grandfather being a controlling ass, I can't really think of much? brief mention of a 3rd party buying drugs, implied past drug use, Dieter gets a dumb tattoo, lol let me know if I missed anything....oh, not a warning really but this chapter does feature Benjamin Miller as a very special guest star lol

authors note - I don't know what I'm doing, I never know what I'm doing, I don't know what the actual point of this story is from day to day, I just like to take my characters out and play with them, lol, so thanks as always to @wildemaven & @trulybetty for listening to me ramble on about all this silly stuff 💕

“There's an idiot next door getting a hippo tattooed on his ankle,” Liza announces as she breezes into the store exactly at three.

“Oh, shit!” Ava exclaims, gathering her things and slinging her bag over her shoulder as she heads for the door.

Dieter. She forgot about Dieter.

“That's my idiot. Probably. I'll explain later,” she calls over her shoulder as she leaves and crashes directly into six foot two inches of lean muscle and boyish charm.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Benny. She forgot about Benny too. Benny is….she doesn't really know what Benny is. A friend. Sometimes a lover. Right now, possibly another potential headache.

“Hey beautiful, where's the fire?” He laughs down at her, hands going to her waist to steady her.

“Apparently, the fire is next door at your shop.”

“What? Hollywood? Yeah, he's with Will. Came in and asked if he could sketch his own design and have it inked.”

“Jesus frickin Christ,” Ava mutters, letting Benny pull her closer and hiding her face against his chest. “And you let him? How is this my life?”

“So that's your guy, huh? He doesn't seem that bad.”

“He's not my guy, he's a pain in my ass. And he really can be that bad.”

“Does he know that? Because he hasn't shut up about you,” Benny laughs, looking over towards the shop. “And he's watching us right now. Wanna make him jealous?”

“Is this an excuse to get me to kiss you, Benjamin Miller?” Ava asks, raising her head and narrowing her eyes at him.

“Depends,” He shrugs, a mischievous grin stealing across his face and his blue eyes twinkling. “Is it working?”

She grins back at him and loops her arms around his neck. “Fine. One kiss.”

“I better make it a good one then.”

“So that guy, huh?” Dieter asks as he and Ava walk to her place.

“Don't start, Dee.”

“What? I didn't say anything. He's hot. If, ya know, that whole blonde Adonis thing is what you're into.”

“He's a friend.”

“You kiss all your friends like that?” Dieter scoffs.

“Can we not with the jealousy?”

“I come to visit my wife–”

“That was annulled,” Ava laughs, playfully shoving his shoulder.

“I come to visit my wife,” he says again, louder this time. “And she's having a literal rom-com moment in a semi tropical paradise, what with the kissing and the twirling and everything. I think I'm entitled to a little bit of jealousy.”

“Okay, fine, if you want to be like that, husband, how are things with Anika?”

“Low blow, Ava. Low blow. Didn't Drew tell you? She left me for Kate.”

“What? No! Aww, she was cute. I liked her. Completely wrong for you, but I liked her.”

“What?” Dieter gasps, mock offended. “Why would you say that?”

She's not me.

That's Ava's immediate thought and one she's not about to voice so she just shrugs.

“She's too serious, too focused. And you're….not really. You're chaos and impulse. Like wandering off to get a hippo tattoo,” she laughs, gesturing at his still rolled up pant leg.

“But look,” he says, stopping to prop his foot up on a nearby bench. “It says ‘I hippopotamiss you’. Ya know, in case you ever wonder. It's right there. Permanently.”

Ava stares down at the little hippo on the inside of his ankle and has to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. It's cute and ridiculous and exactly the kind of dumb stunt she should expect from him.

“Touching, Dee, really. Because I spend so much time with you. And your ankles.”

That earns her another grin and what she knows is supposed to be a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

“Aww, babycakes, you could spend as much time with any part of me as you want.”

She grabs his hand to get him moving again and gives it a squeeze before lacing her fingers with his and continuing their walk.

“I'll keep that in mind.”

“Jesus, Ava, you live here?” Dieter asks, looking at the tiny camper she's led him to. “You couldn't have rented a nicer one? Maybe one built in this century? We had trailers bigger than this on set when we were kids….”

“Shut up, we did not,” she laughs, bouncing up the stairs and unlocking the door. “It's cozy. I have everything I need.”

“This can't even be safe in hurricane season. It's like a million year old camper in a questionable RV park.”

“Okay one, it's not a questionable park, it's very safe. And two, I usually pack up Lucy and head north.”

“Another relic,” Dieter snorts, referring to Ava's twenty year old Honda Element parked outside. “This is comfy though. I could sleep,” he adds, sprawling out on the sofa while Ava putters around the tiny kitchen.

“No, get up. Come to the table. Eat something and then you can take a nap if you want to.”

“You can cook?” He asks, sitting up and moving to the table as requested, eyeing Ava skeptically.

“No,” she grins. “But I can make you a sandwich.”

Dieter wakes up a couple hours later with a post-it note stuck to his forehead, Ava's familiar scribble stating if she's not there, he'll know where to find her.

He doesn't really, but he knows all he has to do is go outside, look around and then head towards the sunset. She'll be wherever she can find the best view.

He makes use of her pitiful excuse for a bathroom and then ventures outside, wandering around until he finds a little picnic area and Ava sitting on top of a table, arms behind her supporting her weight as she watches the sun starting its descent into the ocean.

“Where do you go?” He asks as he joins her. “When you pack up and go North, where do you go?”

“Wherever I want. Sometimes I make a vacation of it and go on a road trip. Sometimes I just hunker down somewhere until it's safe to come back. Why?”

“I dunno, just curious. There's so much I don't know about you now. So much I guessed wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Ava asks, bringing one leg up onto the table and turning to face him. “Guessed wrong about what?”

“I guess I didn't realize you had, like, a whole life here. When Drew told me where you were, I just assumed you were drinking margaritas and laying around, doing the beach bum thing or whatever,” he shrugs. “And then he said you were working at a gas station….”

“The gas station gig is temporary,” Ava laughs. “The owners are friends and they just had a baby. I was between things, so I'm helping out.”

“See- you've never stayed anywhere long enough to have friends before, to be part of the community or whatever, it's different. Not what I expected. So what do you do when you're not working at a gas station?”

“I've done a little bit of everything - tour guide, hostess, waitress, movie concessions, bartender, barista.”

Dieter shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re so fucking smart, Ava. You could've done anything…"

“I just wanted a normal life.”

“Babycakes, this isn't exactly normal,” Dieter laughs softly.

“Maybe not,” she agrees. “But it's not in the spotlight either and I don't have to answer to anyone but myself.”

“Don't you ever miss it?” He leaves the underlying ‘don't you ever miss me, ever miss us’ unspoken. “I understand why you felt like you had to leave, I do. I know you felt like Conrad was controlling your whole life….”

“Because he was controlling my whole life, Dee. He had it all scripted out. When we'd get married again, for real and very publicly. When I’d ideally start popping out your babies. The types of roles I'd take. The most important one, of course, being your arm candy while you talked about whatever your next big thing was going to be.”

“That’s not fair, Ava. You know I never would've gone along with that shit- not if you were uncomfortable with it. Besides, you had a solid career. Steady work. You were America's sweetheart.”

“No, I was America's quirky best friend. Bailey was America's sweetheart.”

“I don't want to talk about Bailey.”

“You never want to talk about Bailey.”

“She stole my Oscar! She literally broke into my house and stole my Oscar and sold it to buy coke!”

*You got it back,” Ava laughs.

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “I hope she's freezing her ass off up there in Canada shooting all those damn Hallmark Christmas movies.”

“So I shouldn't tell her you said hi the next time I talk to her?”

“You can tell her to kiss my flat ass.”

“Okay, okay, no more talk about Bailey,” Ava says, turning to scoot closer to him so she can rest her head on his shoulder. “Just be quiet and watch the sunset. And then I'll let you treat me to dinner somewhere.”

“You stole all my money earlier,” Dieter reminds her and Ava shrugs.

“Just the cash. You still have your credit cards.”

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo x ofc!Ava #dieter & ava au #pedro stories #pedro pascal character fanfiction

43 notes · View notes

kthynes · 2 years

Text

husband for hire

18+

You proposition a very powerful mafia member before your father does and he abides.

warnings: course language, mentions of arranged marriage. fake husband/wife trope. Mafia!Lloyd x fem!reader (non-descriptive).

word count: ~1.1k

authors note: I was watching the proposal with the other Ryan in it when my ✨muse✨ came to me. So enjoy this filler piece while I reluctantly work on my bazillion other WIPs.

You both hated your father. For different reasons. For some time now. So you thought, on your wildest whims, that there’d be no other agreeable man like him.

”I don’t think I follow…” Lloyd Hansen winces while popping some Jordan almonds into his mouth. He’s bored, gant on listening but fully taken by you.

“Be my husband.” You confidently rephrase as he lazily gets up from the chaise and walks over to you.

“Only if you get down on one knee.” He jokes, peering down at your unceasing resolve. The buttons on his dress shirt come apart as he flutters his broad spanning shoulders and prepares his stance. Your lips tug at the corners, grimacing at the hard earned comment.

“Not happening.”

“So then what’s in it for me?” He asks while striking the patience of a dead man. Lloyd has never humoured you. You’ve only heard of him. So this interaction was not owed by any means.

“I just… I just… Gah!” You pause and exhale loudly, eyes pinched shut, strung with frustration. He’s licking his chops and kissing his teeth, punctuating the informed silence.

“God why am I like this?” You groan in the palm of your hands.

Groups of siren-like women are laughing behind the large barreled doors. Wedding goers are celebrating a truthful, loving union all while you attempted to coerce a notorious gang lord in the name of unholy matrimony.

Lloyd carefully studies your pitfall, enjoying your demure and every emotion you easily splay.

You snap your head up, bashful as can be. “Look I just need my father to trust my choices, to let me be.”

The matter of fact was that you were of age which meant that your father was petulant on finding you the right suitor. Day and night, men from the same walks of life would try to pursue you and right now you were conspicuous, trying to dodge the don of Spain.

“I haven’t felt myself in years and for once, I’d like to be free from all this,” You pathetically ramble, a known tendency of yours.

“You’re asking for a lot there,” Lloyd hums while looking at you sideways and crinkly eyed.

“He thinks I’m like cattle! Do as I’m told. Be who he is.” You nearly shriek, ready to hulk out of your gown. “I’ve had enough!”

“Right…” Lloyd ponders while drawing a thumb and pointer finger over his thick, unshorn chevron. “But see, the thing is that I still don’t know where exactly I fit in this equation of yours.”

“It’s simple. Let’s play house. You and I. No strings attached.” You begin. “Of course, we’ll have to establish some boundaries but for the most part it’ll get my father off my back.”

“And leave a blazon target on mine. Fuck that.” Lloyd walks past you knowing that he’s spent a fair amount of time in the drawing room, plucking at your pleas.

“Would you change your mind if you had the chance to fuck me?” You pipe just as he reaches the door.

Now there’s an idea.

“Now you’re pushing it.” He advises, although, taking you apart on top of the large executive desk wasn’t exactly a faraway thought. He comes up short, jaw ticking as he takes a deep, composing breath. Your mother never taught you how to act right especially in the order of mafia men. You spoke, whole foot in mouth, completely unashamed.

“Please Lloyd.” You were asking a lot of him. First to be his wife and now his play thing? He’s unprincipled to it all.

“Don’t make me a dishonourable man, sunshine.” He grunts before stepping out into the crowds that welcome him back again.

💍

“So what’d he say?” Your best friend, Liza grabs you by the arm, giving you a light shake as you stand by the side entrance, completely stock still.

Hours later, the evening toasts were still going on. Steve and Peggy had a lot of well wishers and you zoned out through almost all of them. Love is love is love, right?

“Y/N?”

“He almost had me.” You finally grumble. Liza opens her mouth to say something but then Lloyd takes center stage, deviating both of your attention. It’s the first time you properly take him in. Dressed like a 70s business mogul, he has some flare and underlying charisma. You never met anyone quite like him, an absolute alchemy.

“Hello everyone.” He starts off at ease, eyes scanning the crowd with a terse smile that he needed to work on. “Thank you all for coming by to celebrate my good friends Steve and Peggy.”

Everyone claps. Ear piercing whistles erupt, men shake their fists and huzzah. You’re silently observant, still kind of prissy for god knows what.

“I know we don men don’t have moments like this as often as we should but because Steve is different I’m glad that he’s found you, Margaret.” Lloyd initiates and someone in the crowd lets out a relieved ‘amen.’

“He had a prayer and somehow the scoundrel saw it through.” He shakes his head with a sly grin. “So cheers to that, I guess.”

He raises his glass with one hand while the other is shoved in his trouser pocket.

“Cheers indeed.” Liza snickers next to you, downing her champagne immediately.

“Now before I take off there is something else I’d like to preface, do, challenge, be with… or without.” Lloyd stalls, staring down at his untouched champagne flute. His unabiding seriousness passes through the crowd who look to one another. Your brows were automatically drawn together, steering with doubt as he lulled his head back up.

“I met someone. Someone so fucking audacious that I thought to myself why not?” He starts off with a crass proclamation. “Maybe she could give me this.” He points to the environment around him.

“And maybe I’d be dumb enough to see it through.”

Whispers take flight. You were bludgeoned with disbelief. “So… what do you say, Y/N Y/L/N. Will you marry me?”

Gasps flit through the auditorium. Liza whips her head around and yips with excitement as the hall lights shine down on you. Like a fish out of water, your mouth puckers.

“This can’t be happening.” You mutter to your closest companion while remaining underwhelmingly overzealous.

“I mean this is what you wanted so…” she adds under her breath, bobbing and acknowledging the stares. “Talk about a man of grand gestures.”

“Tell me ‘bout it.”

“Sunshine?” Lloyd reverberates, holding the mic so very close to his bushy upper lip.

“Yes.” You quip. No second thoughts. No apprehension. No backing down.

“What was that?” He inquires, trying to read your perfectly glossy lips. “Was that a yes?” Someone confirms and he repeats. “Yes?”

“She said yes!” Everyone cheers with all the more reasons to do so.

Lloyd smiles right at you, coveted by his new missus. You didn’t realize that you’d be let on this far. But he had other plans and maybe stringing you along could be impactful.

#lloyd hansen x you #mafia!lloyd x you #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #posting for funsies #chris evans #series: husband for hire

708 notes · View notes

counterfeitphantoms · 8 months

Text

brains on that aj au soo rambles abt how most the main alphas are/what theyre up too rn etc etc in OITT

Cosmo - sorta the alpha w/the most story significance by a longshot. he's the only alpha with any magic left given it was natural to him to begin with. sorta also a villian; since most plants have died off & been replaced by the more-or-less sentient phantom plants, he's attempted to tap into magic with those fellas. he's not too aware that the phantom plants in this au are connected to one of the phantom kings, but even when he learns he just isn't willing to give up his attempts w/phantom plant magic

Graham - captured by golgi, and currently kept in the fortress. the alpha with the second-most importance. he's insanely conflicted with everything at the moment since he's always been enamored with phantom tech- and golgi is like. The Nerd king. they have a tentative almost… friendship. of sorts. Golgi loves rambling to graham abt their latest inventions.

Gilbert - an absolute coward. Half of the reason so many animals died. despite being the "militaristic" leader; he'd never send himself into battle. he believes Greely sided with the phantoms willingly and if these two ever see each other again it's On Sight (has a whole issue w/not being able to ever be wrong himself, also. like he just totally ignores the fact he sends animals to die basically bc of his own cowardice)

Greely - an unfortunate, ratty bastard whose been forced onto the phantoms side due to a parasite. he's sorta used as a spy almost?? insanely paranoid about everything and everyone, even if he has no actual real reason to be

Liza - severely underdeveloped, unfortunately! all i have is that she helps keep a few animal outposts/groups safe. and she genuinely actually flat out wants milo dead (milos a panda adventurer who leads the phantoms back to jamaa. traitor)

Peck - also very underdeveloped :(

tavie is just straight Gone bc the oceans have been totally taken over by phantoms. and yk. marine life tends to be sensitive to polluted water

#jamblr #aj #animaljam #animal jam #oitt #ajoitt

9 notes · View notes

thelizaxlevin · 10 months

Text

When: Sunday, June 18th- Father’s Day part deux

Where: Cliffside by the sea

Who: Liza Levin and @wesxevans

Notes: Finding out their baby is going to be a girl isn't the only surprise that happened that day...

Wes Evans Wes sniffled a little before pulling away enough to press his forehead against Liza's and he nodded gently. "They're mostly happy tears, I promise." He huffed out a small, watery laugh because the only sad thing about them was the tinge of mourning he felt for his own father. "I've always wanted a family and you've given me just that." Now he was trying to wipe his own tears because he felt so silly for crying so hard over something like this. "Liza, I want you to be mine. Always." Wes paused for only a moment before adding in a breathless whisper, "Marry me?"

liza levin Liza let out a breath and just nodded, feeling relieved because she wanted everything tonight to be perfect for him, she wanted him to know how loved and how utterly important he was to her. Wes was everything to her. “Okay. Good.” She agreed softly and as he leaned their foreheads together she just closed her eyes. Liza was content to stay that way too, a smile pulling onto her lips as Wes spoke again and she hummed in agreement because she’s always wanted a family too. But then Wes was speaking again, his words going softer, quieter, so quiet she almost didn’t hear it. But once she did she sucked in a soft, short little breath, her eyes flying open as she pulled her head back just a tiny bit, just enough to look at him- her eyes wide and teary and her expression in disbelief. “Wh..What?” Had she heard him right?

Wes Evans Liza's reaction sent a wave of panic through Wes and he quickly wiped away the rest of his tears. He was so scared he'd done something wrong or was trying to do everything so fast. Or maybe she was offended that he'd asked her in such a strange time and place with absolutely no plan at all. "I- I asked if you will marry me.." His voice was small and quiet but he quickly shook his head and added, "I- I didn't mean for it to come out like this. I- I wasn't really sure how to ask you and I know you deserve something grand and wonderful but I don't even know if you'd want anything grand, but... I don't know. I- I also have a ring! I've actually had one for a long time, it's just... not on me." Wes deflated a little, terrified that he'd jsut ruined everything. "I know this is sudden, but I've never been more sure of anything in my life than wanting to be with you."

liza levin all of the emotions she’d felt in the last half hour were enough to make anyone cry, but being pregnant just magnified it all and tears were streaming down her face before she even realized it. She knew she wanted Wes for forever, she knew he was it for her—so much so that she was even pretty sure her body and her heart knew it before her brain did. It was like she was meant to be with him—regardless of only knowing him a few months. So when he started rambling and clearly seemed worried she just let out a watery laugh and leaned in, kissing him and nodding at the same time, a little noise bubbling out of her. “Yes. Yes, yes—god, of course.” She she nodded and cried she was grinning, another sob coming out of her as she kissed him again.

Wes Evans Wes' eyes searched Liza's tear soaked face and he was so scared but only for a moment before she was kissing him and telling him yes. "W-wait.. really?" He was breathless with disbelief that any of this was really happening, and somewhere in the back of his mind was that fear that he would wake up and all of this would have been some wonderful dream. But no.. this was real. This was Wes' life now and for the first time ever, he was... happy. A laugh bubbled out of him as Liza kissed him and he wrapped his arms around her waist the best he could to haul her into his lap, her baby bump pressed against his stomach. "I love you, Liza. I'm sorry I didn't do anything big." That tinge of insecurity still lingered, afraid that maybe it wasn't all she'd dreamt it would be. "I, uh... I've been thinking about this for so long. A couple of weeks ago, just before the fire... Eve went with me to help me pick out a ring."

liza levin“Really.” She managed in between crying and laughing and she kissed him again, letting him lift her into his lap and once he did she just wrapped her arms around neck, hugging him. It was when he spoke and apologized though that Liza pulled back slightly. One of her hands moved to his face, cupping his cheek and this time when she kissed him she did it slow, not caring as her tears stained into his skin. “Wes.” She murmured it against his lips, pecking them once more before she pressed their foreheads together. “I…I don’t need anything big. I have you, our baby girl..” the word made more tears gather in her eyes and she pulled their heads apart, meeting his eyes and smiling at him. “This is where my parents got engaged…” that made more tears slip down her face and she didn’t care. “This is everything I need. You are everything I need..”

Wes Evans Wes watched, kissing her back each time she leaned in for more and he closed his eyes and held her close. “Good. Youre everything i need and more.” And after a few more tear, wes pulled away just enough to wipe his face once more and look down at the cake. “This really was perfect.”

liza levin Liza let out a shaky breath, nodding at him because god, he was everything to her. Everything she ever wanted and so much more. She tried her best to wipe at her own tears, sniffling softly as she followed his line of sight and looked down at the cake they broke open, laughing softly. “Good.” She told him, sniffling softly, “I just…I really wanted tonight to be perfect for you. Every Father’s Day from now on you’re going to be loved and celebrated, because you deserve it.” As she said it, Liza leaned in, kissing a stray tear off his skin and then kissing his lips again. “I love you.”

Wes Evans Wes leaned into the kiss that capture those last few tears before Liza was kissing him properly and he was kissing her back. He liked the sound of that, though he wasn’t sure he did deserve it. “I’ll make sure I do.” He spoke softly with his lips still brushing against hers. This close he let Liza invade his sense, inhaling her sweet scent and feeling the softness of her lips and the warmth of her touch. He gripped her dress a little more. “I love You so much, Liza. You’re everything.”

liza levin liza kissed him once more and then packed the corner of his lips before she hummed again, “I know you will.” She replied, knowing it was knowing it was going to take some time to get Wes to see himself more positively—so she’d just have to do it herself enough for@the both of them. Liza smiled as he spoke and as he gripped her dress she let her arms wind around his neck again, hugging onto him and enjoying the moment as the sun set ans left everything in a haze. It was all perfect. “So…you got a ring weeks ago?” She echoed, grinning at him now. “And with Evie?”

Wes Evans Wes gave Liza’s dress a gentle tug, wishing there was some possible way to be even closer to him right now, despite already being on top of him. Wes let her arms wind around him and he did the same around her waist, hugging her with his face buried in her neck. “I did”. He hummed as he closed his eyes. “Evie may not have been the best choice, especially since she let the intrusive thought win and and she tried one on and almost got it stuck.” Wes laughed and pulled away enough to look at her, though he kept his arms securely around her middle. “I didn’t know who else I trusted enough to ask. And I didn’t want Sterling to kill me.”

liza levin Liza smiled softly as Wes tightened his arms even more around her and when he mentioned Evie and what she'd gotten up to Liza snorted softly, shaking her head as she laugh, "I wish I were surprised." She teased lightly, pulling back as Wes did and when she did Liza moved her hand to brush through Wes' hair, pushing the curls gently away from his forehead. "Does...Sterling know? About the ring? Or do we have to tell her and my dad? And Esme too?" She tacked on, raising a brow and smirking a bit at him.

Wes Evans Wes laughed with her bhr when Liza asked if Sterling, James, and Esme knew, he felt his cheeks grow warm. “Uh.. we’ll have to tell them all. I really wasn’t planning on doing it like this but… I don’t know.. it felt right. Maybe I’m wrong?” He wasn’t quite sure why he was so embarrassed. Perhaps it was because he knew Liza deserved more than anything he could give her. “D-do you want to go get the ring?” Suddenly he felt self conscious, almost like she needed to see the ring to even believe that he’d been trying to come up with something for it.

liza levin Liza noticed the blush on his cheeks and she just kept moving her fingers through his hair, smiling at him, "We'll tell them together then." She promised, shaking her head. "Not wrong at all. It...it's perfect. Everything today is perfect. Just for us. And our little girl." Liza said the last bit softly, still a bit in awe that after weeks of just calling the baby a girl and hoping, that thy were finally right and were having a girl. She was just so, so, excited. And that excitement just kicked up even more at the thought of Wes having a ring for her- Liza's grin growing and her eyes brightening as she pulled back a bit to look at him excitedly. "Yeah? Like- right now?"

Wes Evans “okay.” Wes’ voice was soft as he gave her a little smile and he laughed. “Y-yeah! If you want? It’s at your house and it’s been so hard to keep it a secret.” Wes only leaned into her more as he spoke and he moved his hand to rest on Liza’s belly once more. “I want to know if you like it or I’ll have to return it.” Another laugh left him as his spoke, feeling a mix of emotions from embarrassment to excitement to so, so much love.

liza levin Liza grinned as she nodded, letting out another laugh as she leaned into him. "I can't believe you've hidden it from me in the house." she added on before she shook her head and she tipped her chin down, immediately kissing him. "It can be a twist-tie with a press-on jewel and I'd still love it. Because it's from you." The smile was still on her face but her expression was softer now and she pressed another kiss to his lips and then the corner of his mouth and his cheek. "I love you. I don't need anything fancy, I never have. So anything you picked for me? I'll love it."

Wes Evans Wes smiled at that, and he leaned in and rest his forehead against Liza’s chest. “I’m glad you feel that way.” He let out a small laugh and looked at her again. “Want to go get it?”

Liza Levin At Wes's words Liza just laughed and she cupped his face before pulling him in for a kiss. "Yes please." She was already moving off him as well and moving for the (mess) of a cake. "I'll make cakepops out of this too. That's how we can show Sunny what her new little cousin is going to be."

Wes Evans “I bet she’ll be excited.” Wes smiled at the thought of Sunny. She was such a happy child and she adored wes, which made him feel like maybe, hopefully his daughter would adore him too. Wes pushed himself up enough to squat down and cleaned everything up, doing as much as he could so Liza wouldn’t have to. And when it was all cleaned up, wes laced his fingers with hers. “Ready?”

Liza Levin "She will be. Both for the cakepops, and to know she'll get to have a real life doll to dress up." Liza grinned as she said it, bright and teasing before she moved to stand up and once Wes took her hand she happily laced their fingers together, nodding at him. "Ready."

Wes Evans Wes happily led Liza down the cliff side and started walking towards the Levins home. It was so surreal to finally have a life like this. All wes had ever known was heartache, so finally having someone like Liza and now their baby girl was so different for him. It was good and terrifying because it meant something else beautiful that he could lose. Wes decided not to think about that and they just walked home and when they got back to Liza’s room, wes asked her to close her eyes. “I feel I should do this right.” And quickly he turned and searched through the drawer of his own things that he’d left there and in the very bottom, buried underneath his shirts, he pulled out the little navy blue velvet box. Turning and getting down on one knee he said, “Okay. Open.”

Liza Levin Liza walked with him back down the hill and towards home and once inside she needed to stop herself from practically jumping as she walked, clearly excited- and nervous and everything else in between. She still couldn't believe this was happening and that this was real but then..a lot of her life lately felt that way. Do this right. Liza smiled and she did as asked once in their room, closing her eyes and waiting, shifting on the spot and she rested a hand on her stomach, trying to calm herself until finally Wes was speaking and she opened her eyes, her breath catching at the sight of him down on one knee in front of her, ring box in hand, and even still Liza felt tears springing to her eyes, the smile growing on her lips.

Wes Evans Wes opened the little box to reveal the silver ring with a diamond in the center. He knew it wasn’t much or anything really extravagant and he definitely didn’t propose to her in a romantic way, especially since he was kneeling in her bedroom rather than doing something special, but this is just how it was. He hoped she liked it anyway. “Will you marry me, Lizzie?”

Liza Levin Liza felt the tears gathering more in her eyes as he spoke and when she looked down at the ring the breath got caught in her throat and she let out a shaky breath as she nodded. "Y-Yes, Yes, of course.." a watery grin was pulling onto her lips as she already found herself taking a little step closer, her left hand outstretching towards him.

Wes Evans Wes smiled down at Liza’s hand as he slipped the little ring onto her finger and pressed a kiss to it. “I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy.” He added as he moved to stand while his arms reached for her and pulled her close. “I’d do anything.”

#para #para: wes #c: wes #discord thread #spoiler alert: Liza Evans aboutta be canon

2 notes · View notes

parkadeparade · 1 year

Text

Chris McLean’s Daughter is a supernatural fan

OKAY okay, now that I’m on tumblr again I thought I should share this funny story I have from when I was a kid.

To preface, I live in Toronto Ontario where TDI is produced, and my Mother is an actress who has just recently gotten into voice working, at the time she was taking voice lessons to improve her acting for animation.

One day she took a course with non other than the voice actor of Chris McLean from total drama (Christian Potenza) I was around 8 or 9 at the time I wasn’t allowed to watch TDI because my mother thought it was too raunchy, but she changed her mind after befriending this voice coach, so I started watching the show.

One time she didn’t have time to bring me home after school and then get me to my after school activity because she had a voice lesson, so I tagged along with her. She promised that I wouldn’t be bored as Christian had a 12 year old Daughter that I could hang out with. We arrived at his house and I introduced myself, he showed me his total drama posters and even a 6teen poster (I suppose he worked on that show as well)

Anyways, I then went outside into their front yard to hang out with his daughter. I was quite intimated by her as she was a few years older than me, but we got along just fine.

I didn’t have much internet access so when she offered to watch some Liza Koshy with me I was super thrilled, we watched and talked a little, and then the supernatural came up. So as a kid and still now I LOVED ghosts and cryptids, so when she said she liked supernatural I got so excited and started rambling about ghosts. She then shut me down and explained that she meant the show.

I was confused and a little hurt, but then she made me watch an episode and pointed out her favorite ships and characters and all that jazz, I thought it was weird, and I wanted to just go back to watching Liza Koshy.

In the end, my moms lesson ended and I never saw her or Christian again, (but my mom mentions him sometimes, so I would assume they are doing well!)

#supernatural #true story #storytime #TDI #total drama #dude idk #I’ll see if I have any proof #I’m sure my mom has a photo with him somewhere.

3 notes · View notes

kiiecarrera · 2 years

Text

OUT OF CHARACTER:

mandy

she/her

i’m a dog snob and only kind of sorry about it

IN CHARACTER

rebecca cohen

assistant art curator at abbott gallery

I’m super bad at being brief but I’m gonna try my best to be cohesive and relatively short with this but pls bear with me and my need to constantly ramble:

While Becky is technically a Ward, she doesn’t really consider herself to be one nor has she ever truly identified with that side of her family. The only one she had ever been particularly close to was her aunt Liza and even then, they’ve only recently begun to reconnect after years of only seeing each other a few times a year. Her relationship with her father can mostly be summed up as near non-existent, the man having been in and out of her life for the majority of it.

She has been in Great Falls for the majority of her life, having grown up in an apartment on the East End with her mother. Her relationship with the woman is equally complicated — her mom is, at the end of the day, the person she loves the most in her life but substance abuse and health issues often lead to a shift in dynamics between the two, with Becky taking on more of the caretaker role in her teenage years and onward.

She postponed college by two years after graduating, choosing to stay home and work while trying to figure out what to do with her life. Ultimately, she went to Montana State University where she got her BA in Art History. Only a three hour trip from Great Falls, Rebecca still came home often during her school years but really ended up thriving with the little bit of distance and freedom. It allowed her to focus on herself and figure out who she is outside of who her family needed her to be. When graduation began to near she toyed with the idea of moving to another state and a bigger city, maybe even continuing her education but a bad break up lead to her tucking tail and coming back to Great Falls. It hadn’t been ideal, but two years later she is content with the decision and knows that she’ll likely never leave again — not permanently, at least.

Currently she works as an assistant curator at Abbott Gallery and she really, really loves it. Ideally she would love to be able to make a living off of her own art, but she knows that realistically the chances of that being her primary source of income are pretty slim so she’s happy where she is and working her way up the ladder. The idea of opening her own gallery one day has floated around her mind once or twice but at this point in time she knows she’s still young and inexperienced in the industry and that if it’s something she ever has the confidence to do, it is a long ways away.

She has an apartment downtown where she spends the majority of her time, but she still pops in to check on her mother and spend time with her often. She’s also been spending more time at the Ward ranch in an effort to reconnect with her recently returned aunt and father.

She is an ENFP, Libra, Neutral Good, extrovert and often finds herself sticking her foot in her mouth because she says the wrong thing without thinking, or she just simply says too much. She’s been knowing to take criticism too personally and can, admittedly, be overly sensitive but she means well and she’s generally a friendly person and tends to strike up a conversation with someone just about everywhere that she goes.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS

Friends.

Extended family members on her mother’s side.

Maybe people she met in college who, for whatever reason, ended up in Great Falls too.

Exes/hook ups/ past flames/ etc— Bec is bisexual and tends to fall in love fast, hard and often. The downside is she falls out of love just as easily and is quick to cut romantic ties after watching the shit show that was her parents.

Enemies?? She can be annoying lbr I’m sure there are people who she rubs the wrong way.

Honestly I’m open to just about anything.

I’m v bad at replying to tumblr IM’s so pls feel free to message me for my discord and we can chat there!!

#gf:talk #idk if i missed anything im sure i did but anyway pls love me and little miss cry baby herself #very very excited for this rp <3

14 notes · View notes

adainesfroggieboggy · 4 months

Text

in my “my dreams are real and tangible. i can make them realer.” era. working hard because i want to, working towards a goal i can see and feel and hold in my hands. all my stumbles and all my setbacks? roadblocks. i can find another route. i can get there. i will be ok.

#my literal whole life dream is to live in a big city and be immersed in all the things that i can be #i’ve dreamed of living in la or nyc my entire life and now it’s slightly different.#the dream is shopping at a bodega. it’s finding a local restaurant i love. it’s local shops and people.#the dream is being in a place with things i love #the dream is having love and life and laughter in places i’ve only dreamed of #the dream is life. whole. real. good.#and i *will* get there. doesn’t matter if the dream adapts to my new needs and wants.#i will bite and claw and kick and scream my way there no matter how much i seem to be shoved down by the world.#i will get there and that is all i need to remember #lizas rambling again #in my head tonight

73 notes · View notes

veryrealimagination · 1 year

Text

Henry kept shivering as he walked around with George. Their flashlights weren’t as strong as they should have been, and he could only see a small amount ahead of him as they continued to search through the blacked out alleyways. “This is making me nervous,” he muttered, hearing something clamor and seeing the back end of a tail scurry off.

“It’s a dark night. There’s a storm predicted after three am,” George listed, “And we’re hunting for some of our worst criminals reincarnated and ready to come after us.” He switched his light to the chest of his partner. “You should be nervous.”

“You know, that doesn’t help.” He swung back around and started waving his arm around. “Every single person that hates our guts is wandering around Toronto in the middle of a Blackout, and we’re out here with flashlights.”

“It’s not every single one.”

“No, just Sally Pendrick, Eva Pierce, James Gillies, Ralph Fellows, a good chunk of the Black Hand-”

“All right, Higgins!” George yelled. “I get it.” The two kept walking and checking around. They let a half hour go before heading back to where they parked. Everything had been seen through, and there were no signs of activity. “I thought things were supposed to be fixed by now.” His phone was under 50%, and he wasn’t sure if his battery packs were charged and able to keep him going until sunrise.

“Yeah, thought so too,” came the faint reply.

As his voice wasn’t as strong as it could have been, he swung to make sure that nothing happened to the other man. His face was pale, and he seemed to be breathing a bit heavier than a mild walk would entail. “Henry?” he asked, voice soft.

His reaction time was off. It took thirty seconds to realize that George had stopped and was waiting for him to comment something about him being okay. “I think I was better off not remembering anything,” he whispered instead of some sort of reassurance. “Now that I remember the past, everything is wrong. Ruth and Jordan. The Constabulary. Giles and not Brackenreid. Watts and Jackson! A-and, knowing that Gillies is out there, and he’s better at what he’s doing now. That Ralph Fellows still hasn’t gotten in through his head that he has to beat Murdoch and fails, which almost gets any one of us killed. That Eva Pierce is plainly just targeting all of us, even when flirting with Murdoch. She’s going to try shooting Ogden again and this time, she might get it fatal-”

George had to stop him. Watching him was uncomfortable, and the more he saw, the more he realized that the man was panicking. It had been interesting, the first few weeks, finding out that they had all come back together, in the same Station, no less. The changes in Doctor Ogden and Murdoch were fascinating. The woman still became a doctor but didn’t practice as she had last time. No, she had a son in college (who was actually Detective Watts!), and residency had to be restarted thanks to a car crash. So, she went fuck it until she wanted to go back. She wrote books, encouraged him to start again after finding a secondhand copy of a couple of his. Murdoch wasn’t as, well, he didn’t want to use the words harsh, or straight, but he had loosen up. He suffered the loss of Liza twice but had the support of foster parents and grief counselors this time around.

It was after the first (re)encounter with James Gillies that he could see how it could be bad. The criminal remembered them. He had been committing murders for a year plus before they had one land on their beat jurisdiction because he was prepared to start playing. And then burying alive Watts, who wasn’t Watts yet and he was just the teenaged son of Doctor Ogden-

Henry had been thinking about this, pondering, wondering, mulling, dragging this through his head enough to panic over it.

During his own little trip into the rambling, his partner had started breathing heavily, faster than what was safe. Oh, shit, he’s hyperventilating and panicking. What was Julia telling Llewellyn when the lights went out? “Higgins, Higgins, look at me,” he said, making sure the other man was aware of him and following along, “Follow my breathing.” It took a few times to figure out the pattern, but once he did, George repeated it for Henry to copy. George grabbed a hand to squeeze and let him know to switch between breathing in, holding, and letting go.

There were several minutes of quiet before Henry was breathing safely and calmer than before. “Sorry,” he muttered, quite embarrassed.

“Henry,” George said, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.” He squeezed his hand one more time and let it go. “Let’s get back to the car, let Murdoch know we haven’t seen anything, and hit the next location before the storm hits.”

They were almost back to parking when something clanged in the distance. “What the hell was that?” Henry asked, mostly to the air because George couldn’t see it either. Another clang, and they both wished there was still an armory and the ability to take out revolvers.

“Toronto Police Department, lay down any weapons and step into a lighted area,” George ordered.

“Patrolling the streets doesn’t seem as an efficient use of a Detective’s time,” someone called out. Freezing, he stared as a woman he hoped wouldn’t even have been born again showed up into the light. “Why Georgie,” Amelia cooed, stepping near enough for him to see, “You don’t look so well.”

A gagging sound had him swing around. Dorothy had a chain, which was now wrapped around Henry’s neck as she tried choking him. Immediately, he started attacking the woman, making her drop Henry. He gasped for air before launching himself at the first woman when she pulled out a knife and headed towards George. Once she was down, he had handcuffs on her to keep her from attacking again.

“No!” Dorothy screamed, pulling out a gun and pointing it at them. “Uncuff her.”

“She planned on attacking an officer,” Henry yelled, “Both of you are getting arrested.”

“Then, I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice.” She pointed the gun and shot at George. The man yelped as it entered his left side.

“George!”

“Uncuff my sister, and you can call for an ambulance,” she said, "Without interference."

It took a split second, but he pulled out the keys and quickly undid them before pulling out his phone and dialing. He watched the two leave while he was connected. "Detective Higgins, officer down," he relayed, kneeling down and using his jacket to apply pressure, "I need an ambulance sent to my location. Gunshot, left side of the chest. Unsure if it hit the ribs or went through." He looked down at the man, who was already unconscious with a great deal of blood on the ground. "Don't do this to me, George. Please."

Prompts:

Chains

flashlights

hyperventilating

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t have a choice.’

#murdoch mysteries #George crabtree #henry higgins newsome #henry higgins #castle au #brought in amelia and dorothy to torment them

0 notes

ljsstories · 2 years

Text

Chapter Twenty: Cruel Intentions

One day, out of the blue, Eliza's friend Laura appeared on the doorstep with an awkward smile. Jane didn't know whether that was a good or a bad thing but when she told them that she and Stacey had fallen out over whether or not to support Eliza during her difficult time, Jane decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Eliza seemed to be getting along quite well with her, sitting in the front room rambling away, she needed someone her own age to talk to, maybe this would be good for her. Monica thought that this was a good thing too, encouraging Eliza to go out with her friend and enjoy herself while Jane remained on the receiving end of their mother's difficult behaviour. She was right though, Eliza was young and she deserved a life, being the older sister was always going to be the hardest job and Jane took it on her shoulders and carried on. It was penance for a bad deed she had recently done, when Eliza had shown her Jonah's Instagram picture of him and Jensen, she had secretly screenshotted it later while she was trying to sleep on the single mattress on her mother's floor. She would look at it now and again, Jensen smiling and giving the thumbs up, it cheered her up knowing that he was on the mend. He had a handful of healing scars on his perfect face though, but that was what happened when you smashed up all the glass in your living room. She found that in stressful times looking at him would sooth her, tonight was a stressful time, it was after two in the morning on a Friday night and Eliza was still out with Laura. Monica was in her own little world so Jane was doing all the worrying for the both of them. When the door finally opened and Eliza's silhouette tiptoed passed their mother's open bedroom door, Jane shot up, climbing over Daisy and almost tripping over Monica's walker. "Hey!" She hissed at her sister who was trying to sneak in unseen in the dark, "Liza!" Eliza turned around with a guilty look on her face, then plastered on a fake smile. She was drunk!

"Oh, h-hi!" Was all she had to say for herself. Jane closed over their mother's door slightly and pushed Eliza towards the back room as she teetered on her ridiculously high heels. She had reverted back to applying her make-up with a trowel and wearing barely there clothing.

"Eliza it's late, I was worried! If you're going to be out this late can you at least text me? There are a lot of weirdos out there!" Eliza made a pfft noise and rolled her eyes.

"Yes mother!" She slurred while trying to concentrate on standing, her right ankle giving way every now and again causing her to bob up and down.

"I'm serious! If anything happened to you..."

"Well it didn't!" Eliza talked loudly over her, "I'm going to bed!" She staggered out into the hall leaving Jane feeling discouraged, she really hoped that the old Eliza wasn't coming back. Those girls were never a good influence on her. Maybe she was just letting off steam and trying to forget her break-up with Jonah, which Jane had recently discovered she was taking harder than she was letting on. Who could blame her?

The following morning, Eliza was a little worse for wear. Jane didn't judge, didn't lecture, simply handed her a hot cup of coffee and some paracetamol as she threw herself down onto a kitchen stool looking sorry for herself. "Morning!" Jane smirked.

"Yeah-yeah, get your I told you so's out of the way then!" Eliza threw her arms open and closed her eyes, "Hit me with your best shot!"

"I'm not going to do that, at least you enjoyed yourself, that's the main thing. I want you to have a normal life!" Eliza groaned and flipped through her phone, there was relative silence for a few minutes while Jane attempted to make some porridge for Monica that would be up to her standards. Suddenly Eliza gasped and shrieked an oh my God at the top of her voice. Jane spun around to face her. "What?" Eliza was chalk white and her mouth was gaping open, "Eliza what the fuck is wrong?" Jane demanded shrilly.

"That BITCH!!!" Her shrieking grew louder, what bitch was she talking about? What was going on?

"Eliza please you're scaring me!" Eliza shoved her phone into Jane's hands and burst into tears, covering her face as her body shook with every sob. "Oh my God..." Jane mumbled, "...I-I'm so sorry sweetheart, I..."

"How could she do this? When did she do this? I'm so fucking stupid!" Looking down at Eliza's Facebook feed, there was a post by Laura containing a number of photos of their night out that didn't shine a flattering light on Eliza at all. The first photo though was familiar to Jane as she had a copy of it on her own phone, it was a selfie that Jonah had taken with Eliza and it was so cute that Jane had asked Eliza to send it to her. The caption on Laura's post was;

*if Jonah Reed will shag this hot mess, then ladies we're all in with a chance*

Followed by several laughing emojis. How did Laura even find out that Jonah and Eliza were a couple? Someone must have spotted them while he was there, he only wore a disguise if they were out walking the dog, any other time he just wandered around happily being himself and nobody had bothered him or the Thomson family. "How did she get that selfie?" Jane asked quietly while handing her back her phone.

"She must have gone through my phone at some point, I don't know!" Eliza shook her head, she looked so hurt.

"Should we warn Jonah?" What exactly did one do in this situation? If they didn't talk to Jonah or Jensen about this, then it would look like they had something to do with it.

"I-I can't!" Eliza shook her head vehemently, "I can't talk to him, I can't tell him that I fucked up so badly that..." She trailed off as Jane pulled her close to her and wrapped her arms around her.

"Don't worry, I'll sort it!"

"How?" Eliza mumbled inside her big sister's cuddle.

"Never you mind, just take your painkillers and drink your coffee then go and lie down. I'll bring you a bottle of water in a wee while. Don't give this another thought, I promise I'll fix it!" The first thing Jane did was report Laura's post, informing the social media platform that the photos taken in the night club were taken without her sister's knowledge and that she was drunk at the time. She also highlighted that since Eliza didn't know that the photos even existed then she certainly couldn't have given her so-called friend permission to post them. Jane also asked the content reviewer to acknowledge the tone of the post which was obviously done to humiliate and embarrass her sister. She was waiting for a reply, but she wasn't holding her breath. The next thing she did was contact the Reed family the only way she thought would be appropriate, by emailing Juliet. Messaging Jonah would only make things worse, like a red rag to a bull and yes she had Jensen's personal mobile number in a letter somewhere but she didn't think he would have access to it yet if he was still in rehab. She informed Juliet that someone had leaked information about her brother's private life on social media and that she was just telling them in advance that the tabloids might get wind of it and come sniffing at their door. She got a prompt response from her which contained her personal phone number and to call her straight away. When Jane dialled the number, she was nervous, she'd never met Juliet and she knew very little about her. She didn't have much time to dwell on that when within seconds an American voice answered.

"Hello?"

"H-hi, this is Jane, Jane Thomson. I'm Eliza's sister, I sent you an email..." Before she could get her sentence out, Juliet talked over her.

"Yeah I know exactly who you are Jane. Can you screenshot the post for me? I need to know how much damage control is needed here." Her tone was flat, very business-like, Jane couldn't tell what mood she was in at all.

"Of course. I'm so sorry about this, I had no idea..."

"It's fine, we deal with these things all the time. Look I'm sorry for being so short but I'm not just their sister, I'm Jensen and Jonah's manager, or at least I will be when River Monster get back together." Talking over her again, Juliet began to overshare. Why was she telling her this? Wasn't she worried that she would blab to all and sundry?

"Oh I...I won't tell anyone..." Interrupted again by Juliet.

"I know you won't, why do you think I'm telling you? Jane, I'm not stupid, I know more about you than you think. Jensy speaks so highly of you!" Jensy? Wow, that was cute! "If you could send me the screenshot ASAP then that would be great!"

"Can..." Jane began, was this wise? Fuck it, she needed to know, "Can I ask how Jensen is?"

"He's doing really well; we're allowed to visit him now. I don't know how much longer he'll be in there. I'm dying to get the band back together, I have so many awesome ideas, but I'm not prepared to jeopardize my brother's mental health. Lucky for me my boyfriend's a psychologist and he arranged everything for Jensy, I've got the best of the best on the case. I won't lose my brother!" Now Jane could hear emotion in her voice, she really did love her little brother.

"I understand. Again I'm really sorry about all of this, I just wanted you to know that neither me nor Eliza had anything to do with this! Eliza's devastated, she took the break-up hard and hid it from all of us and the very night she goes out and lets off some steam, this happens! Eliza's friends are not friends at all, they're vacuous girls who have never grown up."

"I know exactly what you mean, my brothers have had hangers on many times, people who befriend them for fame and stab them in the back the first chance they get. Don't worry Jane, my brothers trust both of you so that's good enough for me. Oh and Jonah hasn't dated since he broke up with your sister by the way, just an FYI!" So they were both taking it badly? That was good to know for the future.

"Would you tell Jensen that I'm thinking of him? If that's okay."

"He'll be thrilled! As soon as he gets his phone back I'm sure he'll be in touch. He talks about you all the time!"

"And can you tell Jonah that Eliza misses him?" Juliet laughed softly on the other end; it was like talking to a kindred spirit.

"Sure, he'll also be thrilled. Listen, the story I'm going to push is that Eliza was a fan posing for a selfie, but only if I'm asked about it and if that's alright with you."

"No problem, we don't need the hassle right now, not with our mother..."

"I know, and I'm sorry, it must be tough. If you or Eliza ever want to talk, I'm just a phone call away now that you have my number." That was sweet of her, but Jane still hadn't changed her mind about trying to keep a distance between her and all things Jensen Reed.

"Thank you, again I'm so sorry..."

"Stop, this is not your fault. It's not Eliza's either so please reassure her of that! You've both been nothing but good to my stupid little brothers!" If only that were true, as they said their goodbyes, Jane felt a weight lift off of her shoulders. Eliza would also be relieved that this was a flash in the pan, but to pretend that her relationship with Jonah had never happened, well Jane didn't know how she would react to that. When she found her in her room, still crying and not trying to rest like Jane had told her, she wasn't sure how to handle the whole thing.

"Eliza? I've sorted it, I've told Juliet Reed about it and she got the post taken down. She's handling it from now on, are you feeling any better?"

"No!" Eliza was sitting on the edge of her bed; her little face was all red and puffy and she looked heartbroken.

"I know, would you like to speak to her? She gave me her number and said we could phone her any time."

"I just want to crawl under a stone and die right now!" Eliza sniffed, Jane felt so sorry for her, "Why did you make me go out with her? Why did I ever give her a chance? After everything..."

"I'm sorry, I just wanted you to have a normal life, I made a mistake but don't worry, everything will be fine!"

"No it won't! Jonah's going to hate me!" She cried and leaned her head on Jane's shoulder, "Oh Janey I love him, I love him so much and I miss him!" More crying, it was upsetting for Jane to see her like this.

"Well Juliet told me that since you two split up he hasn't been near another woman..."

"That makes it even worse, I dumped him for nothing!" Eliza was inconsolable, how was Jane going to break it to her that if asked, Juliet intended to make her out to be just another fan posing for a selfie?

"Just try not to think about these things, here!" Jane handed her a bottle of water, "Drink this and try to get some rest, remember I always love you!" Kissing her on the side of the head, she stood up to leave.

"Janey? Will you just sit with me for a while? I don't want to be alone!" Jane agreed and lay down beside her sister until she eventually dozed off. What would Jensen call this whole situation? Ah yes, a dumpster fire! She wanted so badly to talk to him, for him to tell her everything was going to be fine. She could reassure Eliza of that, but believing it was a whole different matter. Neither Laura nor Stacey were ever allowed past the threshold of her home ever again! If Jane could deal with them personally she would, but one crime under her belt was enough! Adding assault to her rap sheet along with kidnapping was a step too far!

***

The topic of discussion in the latest session with Jenna Riley was a post on Facebook made by one of the haunted Barbie dolls that Eliza used to hang out with. Jonah was taking it badly, wanting very much to jump on a plane and hold his baby girl as he called her. Jensen felt proud of Jane for dealing with it the way she did, he was also pleased that she and Juliet had finally spoken and seemed to have hit it off. When Juliet had visited she was extremely impressed with Jane and Jensen added it to the list of reasons why he was going to win her over some day. Overall, despite the reasoning behind it, Jensen was glad that the post had happened because it had brought them all closer together in some capacity. Doctor Jenna had other ideas, "So Jonah, maybe we could discuss in more detail how you feel about pretending your relationship with Eliza never happened." Uh-oh, that was going to be a mistake!

"I really don't care, it happened and that's all that matters! The only worry I have about that is if Eliza thinks I'm ashamed of her, because that's completely not true!"

"Well, you only have to deny it if someone asks!" Jensen chipped in.

"I know that, and it's not the point! You just butt out, your whole thing with Jane is fake anyway!"

"Excuse me?" Jensen turned in his chair and stared down his brother.

"Now, boys we talked about this! Bickering solves nothing! Jonah, Jensen's relationship with Jane may have not been an official romantic one but it is still valid! We don't belittle each other, remember?" Jonah looked down at the ground and mumbled a sorry like a scolded child. "Now, Jensen..." Oh great!

"Look the reason you have to deny it is because Jules is trying to keep the heat off of the girls so that they don't get the paparazzi knocking on their door. It's to protect them more than us!"

"Good Jensen!" Jenna nodded in approval, "Yes, that's exactly why. Charlie has kept me informed." Good for ol' Sweater Boy! "I believe the girls were also asking after you both, how does that make you feel Jensen?"

"Happy!"

"And Jonah?"

"Like I wanna jump on a plane and just, just hold my baby girl!"

"That's understandable, but you realise that if you did that you'd be undoing everything that Juliet has achieved so far? You'd be shining the spotlight right on the Thomson sisters and doing exactly what your sister is trying to prevent?"

"Yeah!" Jonah huffed, "I just hate to not be there when she's hurting!" Amen to that, Jensen thought, that was exactly how he felt about Jane every single day. These sessions with his brother were very helpful, sometimes they would argue and it would get out of hand but Jenna could always pull them apart. After another productive discussion, Jensen sat in his room thinking about Jane and Eliza, their first brush with fame and not the good kind. Luckily the post had been taken down before many people could see it but knowing Jane she probably felt awful about it anyway.

"So this is where you've been hiding! I've been looking for you my friend!"

"Landon?" Jensen raced over to the door where Landon Ellis was leaning lazily against the frame. His beard was trimmed neatly but his hair was still long. Wrapping his arms around his unofficial mentor, he let out a happy chuckle, "Dude has it been five years already?"

"Ha, you're a funny guy Reed!" Landon wagged his finger at him as they pulled apart, "Nah I was thinkin' about you and thought I'd mosey on down and see how you were doin'!"

"Your timing is impeccable as always! Come in, sit down!" Jensen offloaded onto Landon and he listened intently, a lot less dopey than he was a few weeks ago, in fact he was finely tuned in this time. He told him all about the latest social media fracas and how those sweet girls had been dragged into the whole mess by a real nasty piece of work masquerading as a friend.

"She sounds like a troubled young lady!" Landon nodded blankly, his emotion hard to read, "You look better my friend, you look...happier!"

"Well I do feel happier!" Jensen agreed.

"Why is that? Because you finally shut up and listened to Doctor Riley?"

"And to you! I kinda missed you in here!" This brought out a small giggle from Landon.

"Aww shucks, you care!" He waved a hand at him, "But seriously, I'm proud of you kid! This is not a rehearsal; this is the real thing! You fuck this up and you might as well let the curtain fall! Goodnight Vienna!"

"I'm trying hard, I'm even allowed visits now!"

"Really?" Landon looked surprised, "I sweet talked the good Doctor at the back door to get in to see you, do you mean to say I could have just walked through the front like a normal Hollyweirdo?" Another chuckle from him, man Jensen had missed him! "So about your Jane, she still your end game?"

"Always!" Jensen replied in almost a whisper.

"Well, I wish you good luck! And remember, when you get out, I'm always here! You've got my number!" He stood up and headed for the door but for some reason he stopped and turned back around to face him, "Oh yeah, almost forgot, the reason I'm here, ha!" Landon shook his head and laughed softly, "I'm coming out of retirement to do a little project that I've been working on for years. It's a labour of love actually and I'm going to make my directorial debut, well you know what I mean, music videos aren't exactly on the scale of a movie! I've been looking for the ideal person to play the lead and, well, I couldn't think of a better guy for the job! What do you say kid? You wanna do a movie with me?" Jensen felt emotional, was he being serious?

"It would be an honour! I'd love to!" Landon nodded and made his second attempt at leaving.

"Cool, whenever you're ready, just give me a call! See you around my friend!" He waved back, then he was gone.

***

The whole situation with Laura and her nasty Facebook post had died down within days. Eliza was starting to return to her old self and life carried on as normal, only Monica was being even more difficult than usual. She had an appointment at Crosshouse with the Stoma nurse and when the day came to go, she was stalling. Jane was in a panic, checking the clock and fearing they were going to be late. Monica wanted to cancel, but Jane dug her heels in and refused, they needed to go, Jane needed advice from an expert since it was her that dealt with the stoma every day. Everyone was ready to go but Monica, she had insisted on phoning Diane, the palliative care nurse and asking her to come and see her. There was no time for this as Jane began to weep with frustration, but as luck would have it, Diane was in the area and had time to spare between calls. When she arrived, Monica was in the toilet by herself, something she didn't like to do for fear of falling. It felt to Jane like her mother was deliberately trying to drive her round the bend, but Diane managed to talk Monica into going to her appointment. Parking spaces at the hospital were difficult to acquire especially during the day clinic times, so Jane helped Monica into her wheelchair and took her inside while Ricky looked for somewhere to park with Eliza. Monica was enjoying her day out, a surprise to Jane, as she was being wheeled through the hospital corridors. After seeing the stoma nurse, the journey out into the car park was just as fun for Monica, her mood had really changed since the house. Jane was pleasantly surprised by her transformation and hoped that this might be a turning point, maybe she could get her mum out of the house more often now that she'd seen it was no big deal. The palliative care nurse and the carers were always encouraging her to go out for a drive with Ricky, but nobody seemed to get through to her.

Back home, Monica's mood had lifted considerably, and she was even open to eating a fish pie. No harsh words were exchanged for the remainder of the day as they watched the soaps on television together after dinner. Eliza was staying off of social media, her brush with Laura had proved to be too much for her. Jane wondered what Laura's game was, was it jealousy? Or was she just a completely horrible person through and through with no agenda whatsoever, just a thirst for causing chaos? Whatever the reason, Jane didn't want to see her or Stacey ever again. She'd received a text message from Juliet shortly after the incident asking how she and Eliza were doing, it was nice of her, this was the beginning of a series of exchanges between them that Jane was enjoying as a roundabout way of having Jensen in her life. Juliet would tell her how he was doing and pass on messages to Jane from him and vice versa. It brightened her day, knowing that Jensen was still around even though she couldn't see or hear him, he was still there, still thinking of her.

Once again, some days were good and some days were bad with Monica, Jane's pleasant time with her mother had been short lived. Exhausted and frustrated, she couldn't tolerate Monica's refusal to eat, still feeling sick despite the recent change in medication, it hadn't seemed to work. Her mood dipped, no longer seeing the good in things, and when the physiotherapist came she was more and more reluctant to walk which bothered Jane considerably. Both Jane and Ricky seemed convinced that Monica was exaggerating her sickness, gagging on her food and sometimes even bringing it back up. Jane's frustration turned to guilt the day that Monica brought her scrambled egg up all over the small table at her bedside, she was visibly distressed and looked Jane square in the eyes and said, "I can't help it Jane, I can't!". Monica wept as Jane felt like the worst daughter in the world.

"I know mum, I know!" Rubbing her mother's back gently she called to Eliza to get her some paper towels. How could she think that her mother was playing up? She genuinely couldn't keep the food down. What kind of daughter would treat her mother like that? A bad daughter, a selfish one, one that lacked compassion. Eliza watched as Jane cleaned up the mess and helped Monica into bed, feeling helpless. Jane was a very independent and stubborn person, she wouldn't take help from anyone, not even Louise. Monica eventually dozed off as Jane did the laundry, crying to herself the whole time, she'd been so hard on her mother and now she felt terrible.

The following day the physiotherapist arrived as Monica lay in her bed looking down. He took one look at her and told the family that he was going to leave her for the day as she didn't seem up to it. A couple of hours later she was complaining of a headache and she couldn't get warm despite being fully dressed and no matter how many blankets Jane put on her. Ricky called the doctor but it was going to be a long wait for a visit. Monica didn't get headaches as a rule, Jane got them regularly but it was never something that troubled Monica. Two hours had passed and there was still no sign of the doctor, Monica's headache had passed and she was warmer now but Jane and Ricky wanted to have her looked at regardless. They had been told that if they were awfully concerned then they had the doctor's permission to call for an ambulance, but Jane didn't think that was necessary, not until the doctor finally arrived around 5pm. She believed that Monica had a urinary infection and that she required antibiotics, she gave Jane the option of treating it at home or admitting her mother into Crosshouse Hospital. Feeling like she needed a break, Jane opted for the latter, selfishly, and Monica asked the doctor "Will it be a nice hospital?" and that broke Jane's heart, thinking back to the last time when Monica's hopes were dashed after contracting a chest infection and lost her place at the rehabilitation centre. How she turned her face to the wall and gave up before she had been given a chance.

"Yes Mrs Thomson, it's a nice hospital!" The doctor smiled and reassured her. Within half an hour the ambulance had arrived to take Monica to Crosshouse, Jane barely had a chance to pack for her things, but since this wasn't their first rodeo Jane knew exactly what her mother would need this time and everyone was better prepared. The journey to the hospital was brief, their house was only five minutes away by car, Jane travelled in the ambulance with Monica while Ricky and Eliza followed in their car. The ambulance men had to stay with them for over two hours as they waited for Monica to be booked in at the assessment unit. Once she had been taken in to be looked at, the family still waited for a couple more hours and Jane worried about Daisy who they'd left behind in the house. She hadn't expected to be this long, luckily she had been fed and taken out to the garden before they left. Eliza looked over at her with a worried look on her face clutching her phone.

"I texted Jonah, I wanted him to know what was going on." All of a sudden Eliza was talking to her ex again? When did this happen? Whatever comforted her was good enough for Jane!

"That's fine!" Jane nodded as Ricky sat in silence, his expression was hard to read, he always did keep his cards close to his chest, "Dad? You okay?"

"Aye, fine!" He replied quietly, staring at the wall facing him. Eliza's phone pinged and she looked down at it with a small smile.

"Jonah's asking for everyone!" She mumbled, Jane didn't begrudge her that tiny smidgen of happiness, she deserved it after everything she'd been through. Although she and Jonah weren't back together, it seemed like only a matter of time before they were. Once her mum was back home, Jane was determined to make that happen. Ricky and the girls didn't get to see Monica until after 10pm, she was still in the assessment ward waiting for a bed upstairs. They sat with her for a while but by the time 11pm came around, Jane felt that they needed to get home for Daisy. It didn't look like Monica was getting a bed so she was to stay put for the night. They said their goodbyes and headed home, promising to see her the following day. When they got home, Jane was exhausted, at least she would get to sleep in her own bed for once. Deep down Jane was worried though, thinking back to the consultant's warning a couple of months before, Monica's surgery was not the risk, it was the infections she could pick up afterwards that were the danger. Jane had never forgotten that, even as she drifted off to sleep her mind was full of guilt. Was it her fault that her mother was in hospital? Had she been a useless carer? She certainly felt that way, everything she did wasn't good enough, not good enough for Monica and not for Jane either!

Louise came to visit the following morning; the family were still awaiting news on which ward Monica had been sent to but so far there was nothing. Jane had started biting the skin on her fingers again, a thing she did when she was anxious about something. Eliza had spent most of the morning texting back and forth with Jonah, Jane wished that those two would just make up already! It felt like they were back together anyway, in Jane's eyes they might as well just accept the inevitable. They didn't get to see Monica until after lunch, she seemed quite cheery and happy to see Louise as always. The doctor looking after her took the family aside to chat, it turned out that they had done a scan of her head, Miss White had talked about that way back but it never happened. She had a suspicion that there was a tumour in Monica's brain as well as her bowel and spine. The good news was that they didn't find anything, that was the only good news, they were treating her for the infection she had been admitted for but they were also giving her a blood transfusion. Jane felt a little better than she did that morning but not much, she felt guilty for looking forward to the rest she would get while Monica was in hospital, sleeping in her own bed was something she had greatly missed and she felt selfish for thinking like that. After saying goodbye and promising to visit after dinner, they headed home. Eliza was straight onto her phone to text Jonah as soon as they got in the car, Ricky was silent and Louise was asking Jane if she was okay. Jane wasn't okay, everything that was happening was just too much! She'd asked the doctor if it was her fault that her mum had the urine infection in the first place, she was assured that it wasn't but it didn't make her feel any better.

Within a week, Monica had contracted a chest infection from the old lady in the bed next to her, and a day or so after that Jane was starting to cough and feel unwell. She was run down from all the stress; this was the first time in a long time that Jane had been ill. It meant that she couldn't visit her mother for a few days, who was recovering and receiving more antibiotics for this second infection. Ricky and Eliza would go without her as she lay in her bed completely out of it on drowsy cough medicine. She had asked Louise to stay away as she didn't want her to get this nasty thing, she wasn't exactly up for talking anyway, coughing and medicine was taking it out of her. Every time Eliza came in to speak to her, she didn't have a clue what she was saying, only that she could hear her voice. Eventually Ricky came down with the same chest infection just as Jane was starting to feel better, then Eliza succumbed, so Jane was the last man standing. She had to visit her mother all on her own despite still not being completely over it herself, someone had to visit and her father and sister were in no fit state. Then the day came, on this particular day Jane couldn't find a parking space. She drove around for forty five minutes until eventually she found one. She tried to call Monica on her mobile to let her know she was on her way but she didn't answer. When Jane finally got to the ward, her mother's curtains were closed around her bed so she waited outside in the corridor. She could hear someone speaking to Monica and asking if she wanted her to call her daughter back when Jane shouted out I'm here into the ward. The curtains were drawn back and Jane recognised the physiotherapist.

"Hello, the consultant wants to speak with you. She's already talked to your mum, but she'll be round in a wee while, I'll leave you to it!" She left them to sit and chat while Jane's mind went into overdrive, what did the consultant want to talk about? Monica smiled and took hold of her hand as Jane described her ordeal trying to find a parking space and how sorry she was that she was almost an hour late.

"Well you found one, that's the main thing!" She nodded, she was her mother again, not this frightened child that had replaced her over the past few months, she was mum!

"So what does the consultant want?"

"Oh, just to talk about when I get home."

"Right, when will that be, did they say?"

"This week." Just as Monica had spoken, a tall blonde woman who was smartly dressed approached her bed. The consultant? Not Miss White but another consultant all together.

"Hello, you must be Monica's daughter. Can I have a word?" Jane nodded and followed the consultant out into the corridor where she took her into a small, modest room with two chairs and a table. As they sat down, she smiled at Jane. "It's just to make arrangements for your mum being discharged. Medically there is nothing more we can do here at the hospital I'm afraid. There are three options moving forward, do you want to take her home or would you like me to make arrangements for the hospice, or we can arrange for her to be put into residential care back at Woodland View..." Jane sat, numb, listening to this woman talk but struggling to take it all in. It was over, she was bringing her mother home to die, no hospice...she had promised. There was mention of the DNACPR, a couple of other things that went over her head, and when she began to cry the consultant put a hand on her shoulder and said with feeling, "I'm so sorry, I know this is hard! If you feel that things are too much, you can always change your mind. I've arranged for two carers to visit up to four times a day so you should have all the help you need." Jane was in shock, she knew this day would come but it didn't hurt any less. As she sat down beside her mum, she explained what the consultant had said, slightly sugar coated but basically the truth.

"Look mum I'm sorry about being angry with you when you couldn't eat..." Jane trailed off, tears forming in her blue eyes as her mother's smile remained, but it was a sad smile.

"It was hurtful, the things you said! You hurt me Jane!"

"I know!" Jane sniffled, "I'm so sorry!"

"Whatever happens, always remember that I love you!" Monica squeezed Jane's hand and her smile grew, "Do you know what I have a notion for? Crisps!" Jane wiped her eyes and sat up straight.

"I can bring you crisps, those cheese and onion ones you like! I'll bring some tonight!"

"That would be nice."

"I have to go, but I'll be back later, okay? You're coming home mum, you'll always come home!" Jane stood up and kissed her mum on the cheek, gathering up her things she said goodbye and made her way out of the ward and down the corridor. She cried the whole way back home in the car, once again she had to sit her dad and sister down and give them bad news. She was growing tired of always being the one to do it, she was tired of being told bad news alone without anyone there to comfort her and she was tired of driving home in tears! As she got in the door, Eliza was standing expectantly in the hall with her phone in her hand.

"Hi, how's mum?" Jane closed the door and sighed, where to begin.

"She's getting out this week so..." She couldn't, she couldn't tell her yet. Eliza looked terrible, still recovering from the chest infection that had made the rounds in the Thomson household, "...listen you go and have a lie down, I'll bring you a hot drink, eh?"

"Okay, Jonah says hi!" Why didn't they just kiss and make up? This was ridiculous!

"Oh yes?" Jane mumbled as she hung her bag on a hook next to the coats, "How's his brother?"

"He's doing well, they're having sessions together, they're going really well too! I was teasing Jonah, telling him he should be sharing a room with Jensen!" Eliza let out a raspy giggle, followed by an involuntary chesty cough.

"Right, bed! I'll be through in a minute okay?" Jane ordered as her younger sister obeyed. Ricky was sitting in his chair in the back room with a blanket over him, watching some alien conspiracy documentary. How was she going to tell them? This was so unfair! She decided to wait a while, maybe tell them after the evening visit, or maybe just before dinner. Either way, it wasn't going to be an easy conversation for anyone!

⏮️Previous/Next⏭️

#YouAreTheReason #writeblr #writerblr #writing #writing community #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #wattpad #story #story telling #tw illness #tw cancer #tw addiction #tw drugs #tw alcohol

0 notes

fvaleraye · 4 years

Text

i made like... three new dnd characters last night and i rlly rlly hope to use all of them at some point asdfklj

#Vaal Rambles #listen...#i'm just having a good time adslfkjn-#i rlly wanna use liza again!#my sneaky tiefling gorl...#the campaign that i used her in never rlly got off the ground #and i wanna use her for real some time...#and i also wanna use my other peeps at som point #they're all good...#for different reasons...#they're all good in their own ways asdfkjn

1 note · View note

shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

Text

Enchanted

finally finished this!!! im so happy with it, and will be writing it in thomas’s pov as soon as possible and perhaps part 2?

Sleep evades me. My mind keeps returning to last night, specifically to a certain person I had met last night. I pull the covers higher, burying my head as I finally gave into my wandering mind.

I stand alone, needing a break from my aunt Amelia. The music was beautiful, a soft sound that filled the entire room. The party itself was decorated in a magical way, the columns in the building encompassed in vines, the tables with floral centrepieces. It was a mixture of whimsy and magic, yet no one seemed happy to be here. Everyone I spoke to was forcing smiles, men faked laughter as they believed this was not a party but a way to make business deals and enforce their own reputation. It was absurd how no one was just admiring the effort people put into making this perfect. It was the same every month, I'd walk to the edge of the room and watch. To calm my nerves, to explore the different flower pieces, the musicians and the flickering candles from the chandelier. The gowns women wore only once to try and show their wealth, whilst I tended to wear the same, as it fit the magical atmosphere this room desperately tried to make people see, yet they were too blind by their greed, the need to prove themselves to everyone to just simply stand back and enjoy themselves.

My cousin Liza seemed to be in conversation with Dacina, the host of the party, someone I had spoken to a few times, each being more enjoyable. Her calming demeanour and charm always lifted my spirits. Her family organizes this ball once a month, her father hates it but makes a lot of business so it is always left to her to plan and design it. With the help of Illeana and lots of their servants they always make this place ethereal. Her brother, Thomas Cresswell, only ever shows up for a few hours then leaves, only being able to handle the faking niceties for so long. Dacina told me of his tolerance, or lack thereof, to society. She speaks highly of her brother, as I once did, yet I have never met Mr.Cresswell.

The varnished wooden floor slowly gathers marks as couples danced. How I longed to be one of those dancers, being swivelled by someone I loved. They would look at me as if I was the most magical thing in the room, with a soft smile and adoration in every word he whispers to me. I would be his equal as we spun around, the world fading into nothing as we held each other. Alas, those dreams are not likely for someone cruel enough to carve the dead.

I snap out of my fantasy as a group of older men walk towards the buffet near me. They talk loud enough so everyone can hear, shockingly talking about work. I roll my eyes at them and look away back to the dance floor. The lights above cast shadows, making the scene feel like my imagination as I sit by a fireplace to read a romance novel. If this was a novel, there would be my love interest here, watching and finding the courage to say something. There are families at the table, children clinging to mothers as the men sit and discuss whatever. My father, uncle and aunt sit together in a seemingly civil conversation. I look for Liza again, deciding I should probably stop brooding in the corner but as I look for her my attention keeps going back to the men at the buffet. Not by choice, but by their obnoxious decision to shout their conversation.

“A woman led the strike, ridiculous, she had to go,” I heard an oldish man say, followed by murmurs of agreement, “these strikes are out of hand, demanding we pay more, absurd notions.” The man is none other than Mr. Birling, a notoriously cold hearted man, much like dacianas father apparently, both of whom value money rather than people. Even their own families. The group of men who looked the same as him, slightly wrinkled face, greyish hair, miserable faces with hints of conniving schemes being plotted against each other. Friends until one of them was earning more money and was more successful, then they were enemies again.

The men were in a heated discussion about their business and from what I can dissect from their ramblings is that they fully believe themselves to be hard working men, a rarity these days, and they must do what is necessary for their companies. Meaning, budget cuts, strikes from workers, firing people, and any horrible decision in the name of money. I refrain from rolling my eyes, or going over to berate them.

“Mr. Birling would not know what a hard day's work is.” someone says quietly behind me. His voice is smooth, confident, and whilst I agree due to what I have learnt about the birling family and the conversation I had just overheard, I still wouldn't say it aloud with him being this close. Not that he pays any attention to anyone but ‘hard working men’.

I turn my head slightly, the man behind me is tall, a smirk playing at his lips. His suit is finely tailored in a dark grey, with a peach tie. He takes a step forwards and stands at my side, staring out into the crowd, a glass of half drunk champagne in his hand. I return my gaze to the crowd. “Whatever makes you think that, surely you heard him talk about how much he works,” I try to suppress my own smirk and I also sneak a glance at the strange man. He merely takes a sip of his champagne.

“Right of course, his words, I shall listen more closely next time.”

“As you should. You wouldn't want to misinterpret someone's work ethic and make a fool of yourself in front of a stranger.”

“You consider me a fool now?” he turns to me now, hands pressed against his chest in fake offence. His brown eyes meet mine as I face him. His sharp cheekbones feel familiar, but I can't place where from.

“Yes. how could you consider someone such as Mr Birling, a man with such talent and tolerance of others, a man who clearly built his company and was not handed it by his father, how could you with a straight face imply he doesn’t know hard work.” we stare at each other for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. He has such a pure laugh, we seem to be the only sound in the room. People around us stop and stare, upset two people are having fun at a party. The stranger leans against one of the columns, disrupting the vines slightly. Yet he doesn't seem to care, as he slowly starts to regain his composure from our outburst.

Mr. Birling is one of the men looking at us with full disdain. He perceives us as two kids who do not understand life, he specifically tells his accountant that there is something wrong with us if the rumours are to be believed. Children of science. Outrageous. Especially a girl. A girl, not a woman. I ignore his pathetic whining, intent on not letting him ruin my night and return my focus to the stranger. Who, I realise, is someone who enjoys science. His face is more solemn now, having also overheard Mr.Birling. He quickly recovers and plasters a smirk on his face, a spark shines in his eye and I can already tell this won't be good.

“I want to meet this ‘girl’ who led the strike, perhaps she could use some help. I mean, all they ask is fair pay,”

“But fair pay is absurd. Completely and utterly absurd. Why should the wealthy share their wealth to those who ensure it.” he finishes for me. The men that run this world will end up being the reason it fails. We share a look, full of understanding and he lets out a sigh. Now we're talking about work and politics at a party.

“Aside from those charming men, how are you enjoying the party?” He gestures to the men around us and I snort. Charming was one word for them. Being with him and trading remarks felt like passing notes to each other, telling secrets during class even though we are meant to be listening to the teacher. I can't help but think I know him, and by the look in his own face he knows me. Perhaps we met but didn't have time for a full conversation like we are now.

“Mostly entertaining, the place is spectacular as always, the people are..” I searched for a word to describe the people, as well as my family. I love them dearly but they can be insufferable. “An interesting mix. My family is dramatic, so I escaped to the edge to peace and quiet, which apparently isn't possible. "I give him a pointed look but he takes no notice.

“My family is also dramatic, and I came for peace myself but found myself captivated by you, specifically how you watched the crowd, listening, and how you curled your fists in an attempt not to go and publicly humiliate the poor man. Which, by the way, I think you should've. Would've made the whole thing worth it.” He takes a sip of his champagne and I nearly roll my eyes at him. Of course he'd want that. From what I can tell he isn't someone who enjoys society and has no problem saying it. I also think about the families in attendance and which of those are dramatic. The only person I can think of is Darci's brother, whom I've not met but heard about his nature over wine with her.

“If I was merely standing here minding my business would you still have found me captivating enough to talk to me? Or is my appeal in my anger?”

He downs the rest of the drink and straightens himself taking a step towards me. I cross my arms, impatient but he gives me a soft smile. “I've been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, I always see you here at the edge, always. My eyes find you instantly in any crowd. Transfixed, captivating. It was an added bonus to me when I saw the fierce nature in your eyes up close, I knew I was right to want to befriend you.”

Silence falls as we both take in his words. I feel bad, not being able to figure out who he is. His honesty is admirable and makes me smile, as well as blush. I can feel heat rise to my cheeks. Just as I begin to rectify the situation by asking for his name, a man comes behind

me, he’s around 40 probably, and looks at me horrendously in an attempt at a smile. I recognised him from earlier, he's one of the men that spoke with Mr Birling and that alone makes me instantly want to recoil.

“Can I help you sir?” I asked and I can hear my own clipped words, yet somehow he does not. The smile widens and he looks me up and down. Then he offers his hand to me and I realise he wants to dance. With a woman half his age, that he has never met.

“Miss Wadsworth, dance with me?” more of a common than a question. Since I am already highly aware he doesn’t like when females have opinions or say no, I refrain from rolling my eyes and just walking off from him. Instead I take a step back, so I'm by my new friend’s side and smile widely.

“I'm afraid I already promised the darling Wadsworth a dance, we are just finishing our drinks first.” As if to prove my point he drinks the last of his drink, mostly to hide his smirk. Something else the man doesn't seem to notice. His face drops, but his pride makes him believe he can stand there, waiting for me to run to him. There is an awkward silence until I feel hands reach down and take mine, they are warm and make me jump slightly at the contact. Not in a bad way, not in the way I would have if it had been the man in front of me with his gaze like fire as he looks at our joined hands as though he has a right to be mad about it. I feel my own fire burn as he stares, so I tug his hand away from the man. I need to just escape into the dreamlike nature of the dancefloor, as well as thank my saviour and learn his name.

He leads me to the dance floor, nearer the edge and his hands slip down to my waist as I find his shoulders. His touch is hesitant but reassuring. Somehow he looks calm and terrified, as though he never expected to dance with me but never wants to stop. I can't help but feel the same as we begin to move. My skirt swirls around us and we say nothing for a while as we both calm ourselves and let the music envelope us. In a way, this is as close to my daydreaming as I might ever get. Being here on the dance floor with someone who isn't twice my age and the definition of misogyny. We dance as equals, neither of us truly leading but letting each other float around each other. We're sure of our movements and demand nothing from each other. It is a weird calmness that settles. We are strangers as far as i know, and yet we dance as though we have known each other our entire lives.

“You are a delight, miss Wadsworth.” he breaks the silence, somehow louder than the music for me, yet it's quiet. Almost like he didn't mean to say it aloud.

“How do you know me?” my voice matches and i feel bad asking, but i need to know. My tone is not accusing, and his face only burrows in confusion for a second before he smirks at me. A smirk I'm seeming to become familiar with.

“My sister Dacina speaks highly of you.” my eyes must expand as he laughs softly. That's why I recognized him. He has the same structure as Dacina, sharp cheekbone and soft skin. Perfect complexion.

“So you are the infamous Thomas cresswell?” this time I smirk and his eyes widen.

“Infamous? What on earth have you heard of me?”

“Your sister has lots of opinions on you.”

“Of course she does. Whatever she has said is most likely not true.” He blurts out and I laugh at his relationship with his sister and him wanting to impress me. “Unless she told you I am utterly irresistible, charming, quick witted and incredibly smart.” winking at me he sends me into a surprising spin and my hands land on his chest. We've sped up slightly, yet our heartbeats are both faster than necessary and I can see a hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“She did mention you have an overly large ego. She'll be happy to know I agree with her.” I feel his hands tighten at my waist slightly and I watch his curls fall down in his face as he shakes his head. I'm delighted by this turn of events. Daci is wonderful, and if this is the Thomas that I get to see, not his reputation, then I shall try and keep this in my life for as long as possible. His spark in his eyes shows how he may think the same. Also, if daci, liza and ileana are with Thomas, then i might have the most fun I've ever had in my life.

His voice slides through my thoughts, but also reinforces them. “I am sure she failed to mention how big of an ego she has. Honestly, Darci is worse than I. Have you met Illeana? She will surely agree with me on this.”

“I'm sure she would, I've also heard you are a scientist, what do you study?”

“The dead. Much like you and your uncle.” There is so much certainty in his voice, no resentment or the usual tone I hear so I gift him an earnest smile.

The song ends, and we stand, hands still on each other for a second longer than we should. Just as I go to remove my hands from his chest I feel him pinch my sides lightly. Then his warm hands slip from my waist and I wish more than anything to dance again.

We go to return back to the column near the buffet, where we first spoke, and as I take a step I feel him move so he's pressed at my back, his hands finding mine. Even though we are gloved, even though no one can see our hands due to how close we are, and how many people are moving about, my heart pounds at his bold nature. I adore it, so I squeeze him and keep my head facing forward as I lead him off the dance floor. We settle back, Thomas letting go of my hand to pick up two glasses of champagne and hands me one. We both take a long sip, perhaps settling our brains or making it worse. Well see.

“You look,” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words, brows furrowed slightly as if he was reading a dictionary, “enchanting.” he finally finishes, gifting me a rare smile it seems. No longer does he smirk at me, but shows me a genuine look that I want to have painted as it is the best thing I have witnessed. Heat rises to my cheeks as I look down at my dress. Someone at least understood what I was going for, with a pale peach colour, sparkling bodice that runs along the length of the skirt. The long sleeves adorned with tiny gemstones, golden to match the accented colours of the hall. In response to Thomas I look back up at him with my own genuine smile, perhaps some of the only true smiles to be shared this evening. His suit fits him perfectly, showing off his defined features, his tie a pale peach as well. I assume Dacina helps him, as her dresses always astound me with the details. There are tiny, miniscule gems on his tie, that snake down and remind me of vines.

“You look,” I act the way he did, scanning my brain for something that fits, handsome or charming doesn't do justice but I'm sure whatever I use will only boost his ego and be used against me, so I settle with: “bedazzling.”

“Bedazzling?”

“Thomas, I study the dead, I have to look closer than one should at things, so of course I noticed your tie. Henceforth: bedazzling.” The air shifts back to our teasing tone and he smirks once again.

“You are the only one to notice, except Daci of course, nothing gets past her. Am I correct in assuming you like the tie?” Despite his teasing I feel a hint of worry as if I wouldn’t like his tie.

“I adore the tie cresswell, everyone here should be weaning ties with tiny jewels.”

His face falls as he scans the crowd, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the groups of men. “I cannot tell if you are being serious with me or not, but I agree nonetheless. The men here are awfully drab, boring, plain. It's insulting to us really. Daci puts so much time into making this beautiful and these people do not see it.” He is shaking his head. I agree, I have heard how much work goes in and despite my effort to help she insists that I do nothing but enjoy the party. I have a sneaking suspicion though that Liza helps. The flower centrepieces are her favourite, and whilst that might be a coincidence I know how stubborn and convincing she can be.

“I do. I love her parties. I always find myself standing here, watching and noticing all the changes from the month prior. Like, last month she went for more of a red theme, with red roses as the centrepieces, little red accented chairs and carpets. Whereas this month is more of a forestry vine, hence the vines around the column.” I point as though they are a secret thing you need to search for even though they are obvious. Yet he turns anyway and runs his finger down the length of it with his adorable face set at a soft smile. Thomas might have been there when she got the idea, or placed them or he might have placed them himself and is now remembering it.

My gaze finds Thomas and he looks at me, baffled, and I feel the blush creeping back up. It is not the same confused look that I get when I tell people my love of science, but one of intrigue. As if he could listen to me talk forever and not get bored. It's as if he has never thought anyone would notice such things about his family's party. “Enchanting.” is all he whispers to me. Then he clears his throat, an ever so soft shake of his head as though once again the words were meant for him and not us both.

I stare out at the crowd again. I'm sure my family will want to know where I've disappeared to, I normally do not leave them this long. Liza I'm sure will want to know why I danced with Thomas. Yet the thought of leaving him makes my legs leaden and my heart sink and anchor me right next to him. Im completely wonderstruck, and feel ill have a permanent blush, especially when i look at his stupidly handsome face, his quick smirk and small smiles that feel special. It is odd, I've only heard stories, spoken to him briefly and danced, yet I have enjoyed his company immensely and hope this never ends. I want more dances and to steal more smiles to keep forever. I want to make fun of people together, and dance.

I go to steal a glimpse of him, expecting to find him staring at the crowd like I was but his eyes are on me. “I have to leave,” his abrupt words anchor me in an entirely different way, “I mean, I want to stay and I'm sure you want my amazing presence always now Wadsworth but I have to wake early. New job. So, my darling, I shall see you tomorrow.” Thomas hesitates for half a second and begins to walk away. I watch him go and say goodnight to his sister and then leave. His words fill my head. It’s reassuring to know he enjoys my company as much as I do.

I bolt upright in my bed, the lights, music and memories falling away as I focus on the last words he said to me.

I'll see you tomorrow.

What does tomorrow mean? Does it mean he has a job where he thinks I visit? Will he be making an effort to befriend me? Does he know my family? I am so confused. How had I not caught these words sooner? Perhaps he wants to tell me he had a terrible time, that he doesn't like my presence. I'm on my feet without realising, pacing back and forth, the cold air hugging me close. I wish he was in front of me now. I wish he would whisper the words enchanting again. I wish I knew what was happening in a few hours that warranted him saying those four words. I run my hands over my face, untie my hair and let my curls fall over my shoulder, brushing away the colder ever so slightly. I'm ridiculous. Four tiny words sent me spiralling. I climb back into bed, my hair fanning out around me and the blanket returning warmth back into my system. Immediately my mind returns to Thomas, his face forever in my mind. Even if tomorrow could be the last time I see him, there is a chance that it is just the start.

Enchanting…

Those words fill me with confidence that yes, Thomas might become someone special to me. That perhaps our dance sparked something and now all I wish is that I can tell him how enchanting he is.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @loveyatopluto @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc @the-hoofflepooff

#sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #cresswell #thomas and audrey rose #Thomas Cresswell #Audrey Rose Wadsworth #audrey rose #kerri maniscalco #enchanted #taylor swift #stalking jack the ripper #Hunting Prince Dracula #escaping from houdini #capturing the devil

35 notes · View notes

taeescript · 3 years

Text

IX. Script of the Angel (m)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> This is the story of three very different people. A successful novelist, a blossoming artist and a dedicated cop. They seem to have nothing in common. Yet, they are continually drawn to each other. It is as if their fates have been intertwined. Written. That they must meet.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> ft. jungkook and jimin primarily.

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> policeman!jimin, author!jungkook, painter!freader, serialkiller!XXX; a classic game of cat and mouse

𝔴/𝔠 >> 4.8k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mature themes depicted. due to the explicit nature of the topic (serial killers, murders, violence, sexual content, infidelity etc.) this is rated 18+. to spare storytelling: please consider yourself warned. chapter warning: mentions of self-harm and infidelity; depictions of blood and murder.

𝔞/𝔫 >> topics discussed in this chapter may be brief, but they are serious. please take the warnings mentioned above seriously. if at any point this makes you uncomfortable, please stop reading.

previous part || series masterlist || next part

Jimin pulls up to the house, and his GPS beeps to tell him that he has arrived at location. He observes the scene from his spot in his car. He then steps out, walks to the door and rings the doorbell.

“Did you forget something?” Liza’s mother opens the door with the question. “Oh!”

Jimin gives an apologetic smile. “Sorry to bother you ma’am, but could I ask you a few questions? S.F.P.D.” He flashes his badge.

A few days ago, he had discovered that a vehicle had been rented out under the name Jeon Jungkook. Consequently, he had put in a request to his friends at the station to inform him of any and all movements of this vehicle. His friends had laughed at him, sending him quickly away as they did not have time to do this for him. Jimin thoroughly pleaded his case and had been given a simple tracking program in which he had used to follow Jungkook around today.

Liza’s mother steps out of the house and quickly closes the door behind her. However, she is not fast enough to hide Liza peering out from Jimin’s observant eyes.

“Your daughter?” he asks.

She becomes flustered. “I…You…Yes. Sorry, who did you say you were?”

He holds out his badge again. “S.F.P.D.”

“R-Right. I see your identification.”

The badge is put away.

“It’s just that we don’t usually have policemen coming to our doors and well, I didn’t want to scare Liza, my daughter,” her mother continues.

“It’s not a problem, ma’am, and I’m very sorry to have to interrupt your day like this.”

Shaking her head, she waves his concern away.

“Would you be available to answer a few questions right now? It won’t take much of your time,” he tells her.

She nods.

“Did you have any visitors at your house today?” he starts.

“Visitors? Well…” she rambles off a few names and then stops. He hopefully looks on and exhales only when she speaks again. “There was also a man who stopped by. A few minutes before you actually.”

Finally, he is getting somewhere.

“I see. This man you speak about. Have you seen him before?”

“No. That was my first time. I think he worked for an insurance company? He wasn’t even supposed to be at our house; he was looking for a Mrs. Fallon perhaps down the street,” she tells him. A sudden thought dawns upon and she gasps, horror splashing ugly across her face. “He’s not some criminal, is he? Heavens! He seemed like such a nice man as well!”

He places a comforting hand on her shoulder. “There’s nothing to worry about. Could you tell me a little more about him? You said he worked for an insurance company?”

The woman is extremely nervous. He can read it off her body language as she continues to tug at the hem of her shirt. His previous words had not been any consolation to her at all. He appeals one more time.

“Truth be told, I’m here investigating claims about a group assuming fake identities to sell illegal goods to occupants in this area.”

“You don’t think….!” she holds a hand over her mouth.

He shrugs. “We’re not too sure yet. However, if you help answer some of these questions, we’d be able to track down this group quicker.”

“O-Of course! The man showed me some papers. I couldn’t get a real good look, but I think I saw a logo on there. That one with the giant “L” and the twigs that stick out on the side. I can’t remember the name of the company, however…” her voice trails off.

She doesn’t need to explain further as Jimin recognizes the logo.

“Not a problem. Well, that’s all for today. Thank you so much for your time, ma’am,” he nods and begins to leave.

“That’s all? I haven’t even given you the name!” she calls after him.

“You’ve been very helpful!” he shouts behind him, “Have a good day and stay safe!”

He enters his car quickly to prevent her from calling out at him again. The logo she had explained is one he is familiar with. It is one he’s seen often at the building two blocks away from the station, and he knows for a fact that Jungkook does not work for that company.

All Jungkook had done was talk to the woman. They had barely exchanged enough words for her to even remember who he was. However, he was also clearly not there to sell any type of insurance.

If so, what had Jeon Jungkook been doing at that house then?

…................

“Excuse me, would you be able to tell me where I can find this gentleman?” she slides the wallet sized photo of herself and said man to the receptionist.

The pretty lady on the other side faintly smiles upon seeing it. “Your husband?” she asks.

Krystal blushes. “Oh no. He’s my boyfriend. I was hoping that maybe you can locate him.”

The lady’s eyebrows furrow upon her words. “Is he missing? I can direct you to the Missing Person’s Unit.”

“No!” Krystal immediately blurts, “Sorry. I mean, he’s not missing. He had told me previously that the station had called him in for an interview? He’s not involved in any crime. They only wanted to ask him some questions.”

Her fingers fly across the keyboard while chewing on her pen. After a few moments, the receptionist looks back up at Krystal for a brief moment. “What did you say his name was?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

More typing. “Ah, yes. He came in quite some time ago. I have him signed in to visit the Homicide Unit with Lieutenant Wang.”

“Ah, would you be able to direct me to the Lieutenant?”

“Well, I can’t just have you going in…” the receptionist bites her lips in thought. She scratches something down on her notepad before her head snaps up again.

…...............

Namjoon and Jimin had returned from their lunch break. Jimin had only been planning to go down for a quick sandwich at the cafeteria but he had been dragged along by Namjoon to go to the nearby Thai restaurant. It all started when Jimin had observed that Namjoon had an unopened lunch bag on his desk.

“Youngji made lunch for me,” Namjoon had said.

Perhaps this is the opportunity to bring up his suspicions on Jungkook; he hadn’t spoken of the matter to Namjoon for a while now. In fact, he hadn’t even told his supervisor about the vehicle tracking he did a few days ago.

“Oh? What did she make you?” Jimin had innocently asked. How he regretted the decision.

The entire time they were out, Namjoon had complained about his wife’s cooking – especially her renewed passion for cooking green foods (for a brief time, Youngji had stopped). His complaints had paused while they were physically partaking in their lunch meal, and Jimin had thought Namjoon forgot about it, but on their walk back to the station, Namjoon began ranting again. He hadn’t even had the chance to bring up Jungkook’s name let alone his recent observations.

“I don’t even like green beans. I try to tell her, but she insists on making them because they’re healthy,” Namjoon groans, “How does one tell their wife to stop cooking for them?”

Jimin sighs. “Maybe simply saying ‘Please stop cooking for me’.”

That causes Namjoon to roll his eyes. “This is why you’ll never get married. You can’t just tell your wife that her food sucks. I have thick skin when it comes to speaking up to anybody else, but her… I’d rather just down it.”

“You didn’t though. You threw it out and we went out for Thai instead.”

Namjoon does not seem to hear what Jimin has said; as they are walking into the station, he harshly jabs Jimin in the ribs.

“Namjoon what – ” Jimin glares at his friend.

Namjoon nods his head in the direction. “Hot girl, alert. Like 10/10.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “You’d better not let Youngji catch you saying that…” his sentence trails off when he notices the girl who stands at the receptionist’s desk.

She is immensely pretty. Her light brown hair hangs in waves down her back and her smooth, long legs are accentuated under the black skirt she is sporting. She is also wearing a body-hugging turtleneck that wraps around her athletic body, naturally drawing attention to her flushed curves.

“Damn,” Namjoon whistles lightly under his breath, “Do you think she’s a good cook?”

This time, Jimin fails and the laughter bursts out. The sudden sound draws both the receptionist and the beautiful woman’s attention towards the two of them.

“Lieutenant!” the receptionist calls over.

The two men shuffle over like shy school boys.

Now that they are standing closer and that they could see her face, they are even more impressed by her natural beauty. Her make up is light and makes her skin appear soft and dewy. Her bright eyes greet theirs and she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, an unconscious seductive gesture in their minds. When they finally reach her, she beams them a smile of perfectly aligned white teeth.

“Howdy,” Namjoon goofily says. He clears his throat once and tries again. “Um, hello. I’m Lieutenant Kim Namjoon.” He extends a hand.

Krystal shakes it.

“Detective Park Jimin,” Jimin introduces himself sequentially.

She takes his hand as well. He notes how warm yet strong her grip is.

“They’ll be able to help you better,” the receptionist smiles.

“Oh?” Jimin tilts his head at the question.

Krystal opens her mouth to explain the reason she is at the station when Namjoon interrupts before she can speak.

“It’s rude to make a lady wait and stand here. Perhaps I’d be able to invite you to his office so the two of you can talk comfortably there?”

“His office? Are you not the Lieutenant?” Krystal asks, slightly confused.

Namjoon laughs. “Yeah I am. But uh… I just remembered that I, um, have some business to take care of for the other… thing. I mean, case. I have to take care of a meeting to see a case.”

Jimin glares at Namjoon.

“You’ll be left in capable hands though. Detective Park is the best in our unit,” Namjoon says. He gives them a quick wave and the wiggle of his brows towards Jimin before leaving the station despite having just returned to it.

Jimin wants to hit Namjoon, but he really could not leave the mysterious stranger standing by herself. He turns to Krystal again.

She is regarding him with a slight grin. “He’s a strange one, isn’t he?” she comments.

“You can’t even begin to imagine,” he returns with a roll of his eyes, “This way.” He leads her towards the elevators up to his floor.

“I’m really sorry to be a bother,” she says while they wait. She waits until he has pressed the button before continuing, “It’s really nothing much. I’m just looking for somebody.”

“If you’re looking for somebody, shouldn’t you be speaking to the MPU?”

“MPU?”

“Sorry, slip of the tongue. Missing Person’s Unit.”

She scrunches her nose. “He’s not missing… He’s somewhere here. The last time we spoke he told me he had been called in here, so I thought to try my luck. Perhaps you’ve seen him?”

Her words are confusing to Jimin. They don’t make sense.

The lights above head start to slowly flash as the elevator comes down to meet them.

“I’m sorry, this is probably really bizarre right now; I haven’t even introduced myself formally. I’m Krystal,” she extends her hand again. It awkwardly hangs there for a quick second before she retracts it a second time, remembering that they had already exchanged handshakes.

Jimin gives her a warm smile. She was nervous, for some strange reason. “Not to worry, Krystal. Do you have a name?”

“Jeon Jungkook,” she says.

“No, he isn’t,” Jimin mumbles. “At least for now,” he keeps that part to himself. He turns back to Krystal. “I saw him. He came in to do an interview for me.”

He is not fast enough to conceal his disgust at the mention of the man’s name.

Krystal catches the brief microexpression, however. “Please don’t tell me that he’s in trouble.”

“Oh! So you did see him! Would you be able to tell me where he is staying currently? I tried to call him earlier but he was busy…”

“I could. But first you are his…”

“Girlfriend.”

Ah. So this was the woman Jungkook had mentioned. Again, he is relives the bitter taste in his mouth from when Jungkook had told him that he had been out with another woman. Jimin tightens his fist when a thought crosses his mind.

“Girlfriend, you say?” he repeats. Perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone.

She nods, animatedly. Krystal is excited that she had been able to bump into the handsome detective. He seemed to know about Jungkook’s whereabouts in this foreign city.

“He’s staying with a friend of mine. I could give you her address, if you’d like,” Jimin tells her.

She takes his bait. “Her…?” she repeats silently to herself.

“Is something the matter?” Jimin asks.

Krystal looks back up at him with a smile. “Nothing!” she says, “I’d appreciate that a lot, Detective Tuan.”

Jimin nods. He writes out your address on a piece of paper and hands it to her. “I hope you find him,” he encourages her.

The elevator doors before them open and wait for its passengers.

“Mhmm,” Krystal says. The initial excitement her voice held is audibly dampened. She thanks him and walks away.

Jimin enters the elevator alone. There is a knowing smile on his face. Perhaps this lady would finally be able to get Jungkook out of your life once and for all.

…...............

We all have that thing, don’t we? That one thing we know we should not do, yet we succumb into its temptation each and every time because it’s so good. Despite it destroying our body, the thought of not being able to yield torments the passing thoughts in our mind and coaxes us to believe that it is okay.

Let us listen to it this one last time. Just this one last time and we promise ourselves that we will never do it again. Just this one last time and we will then walk away. That is the argument we have and boy.

We’ve lost.

The feeling of absolute bliss washes over your body as you stand in the shower, allowing the hot water to run across every inch of skin. It feels like a large warm hand that massages your shoulders, calves, back – each muscle on your body. You are aware that the temperature is too high but it feels too good for you to turn it down.

After avoiding the studio for so long, you had finally brought yourself around to go back to it. Min had been ecstatic when you walked in. You had not seen each other in a little over two weeks and with you not responding to any of her nor mutual friends’ calls, she had thought something had happened to you.

Min is your best friend. There is no doubt about it. The two of you shared everything so Min had been slightly disappointed when you failed to tell her why you had suddenly disappeared.

You had taken out the large canvas from your bag instead after the initial hug ended. You rolled out the painting and asked Min for her opinion.

“It’s a little… sporadic,” was all Min could say.

“Sporadic… that’s one way to put it,” you grimaced, “I don’t like it. But it’s nearly complete, and I don’t have time to make a new one.”

“Are you making it for a client?”

“No.”

Min was seen biting the inside of her cheek with all of your mysteries. You had felt bad so you told her, “Remember that guy I told you about? It’s for him.”

Her eyes seemed to light up now that you were speaking again. “Oh yeah! Jungkook! You had been working on it for quite a while, right?”

You nodded.

“Well, how about I go out and get us our favourite donuts from the bakery? I know good food always helps me get over artist’s block!” Min had offered. Before you could tell her otherwise, you were looking at the back of your petite friend rushing out the door into the autumn wind.

With not much of a choice, you had settled down at your usual corner. The studio was quiet. There were a few people here and there, but they were mainly minding their own business. They gave you a small smile as you walked around collecting your usual art utensils.

Once you were sitting in front of the painting again, staring at the blacks, navy, bruise-like purples, you started falling into darker thoughts - the same thoughts that are infesting you now that you are alone in the shower again.

You grab the shampoo and start lathering it into your hair.

Baekhyun… How many years has it been since that happened? Why was it that he continued to torment you like this despite the fact that he was gone? The most difficult moment had been the few weeks right after the incident. Every little thing you did, you were reminded of him. You couldn’t even go out without breaking down into tears; going out meant walking on the path to the studio that you had done so many times with him.

It had taken time, but slowly you thought your wounds had or were at least beginning to close. Yet, Jimin had opened them when you discovered he was still searching for Baekhyun. It wasn’t entirely Jimin’s fault. He was only doing what he thought was right. Still, he shouldn’t have hid it from you.

You blamed that for your moment of weakness. Seeing yourself physically wounded made you think of the wound that had been reopened in your heart. It made you think of the safe haven you used to have with the man you loved. They had been so close to saying their vows – till death do us apart – that was only supposed to be the case when they both grew old. It wasn’t supposed to be their truth so early on.

Baekhyun, am I allowed to fall in love again?

Turning the water off, you step out of the shower. The blast of cold air that hits you makes you tremble, and it is like a clear ring of water in your muddled pool of thoughts.

You shake your head, causing droplets of soapy water to fly everywhere.

You are not in love with Jungkook. There is absolutely no way that can be true. You are grateful to him for being there when you needed – and that is quite often lately. However, you could not find another reason for your speeding heart and dizziness you felt whenever he came home. Could he really be the one to blame for all the moments of breathlessness and chest aches?

Is it okay for me to have new feelings after losing you?

The mirror has been fogged up and you wipe away the condensation with a hand. Peering back at you is a tired girl with long, dark hair that is plastered to your cheeks. Your skin is flushed pink because of the heat and pressure of water. Your lips are flattened and slightly downturned. Your eyebrows are unkempt, and a pimple pushes it way at the side of your nose and all along your T-zone. Fingernails are too long because you have forgotten to cut them; still with chipped pink polish coating the pinky.

You let out a low chuckle. Who would love someone as broken as you? Your eyes dart to a pair of tweezers that sit on the shelf. You pick it up and observe how sharp the edge of the metal object is. You press your fingertip on it until they dig in and you feel the familiar lullaby sting of pain run from that sensitive area down your spine.

You didn’t need to actually draw blood to feel it. Your body is already messed up enough that this is where you momentarily pause.

The one person who had always been there as your supporting foundation is long gone. You had not found the strength to admit it, but you had been flailing in quicksand for a while now.

What’s a house without its foundation? It can only sink until it becomes no more.

You press harder, sending another chilling flash over your body. Your breath quickens and you feel that your lips are dry, although you have only stepped out of the shower.

Is this what others have felt? The addiction that comes the moment you start.

You close your eyes, forcing your body to continue when the sound of a door being slammed shut scares you.

The tweezers fall to the floor.

…................

Shit.

Jungkook thinks as he takes off his shoes. There are still dark brown spots on it despite him intensively scrubbing them for five minutes straight in the car with a cloth. He contemplates on throwing his jacket on the ground, but seeing the state of shoes, he needs to be careful. Bending down, he picks them up and decides then that he must burn them.

He is so engrossed in his thoughts he doesn’t notice that he is not the only one home.

Looking around the floor, he finds the closest source of water and strides to it. He lets the water from the kitchen tap run until steam rises from it in which he then proceeds to take off his clothing. He throws in both the jacket and his stained white shirt. He then presses them down until the scalding water hits his own skin.

He hated acting out like this without a plan. He hated it with such a passion, but he hated even more the reason he went out and did it. His kills were always methodically thought out and never without reason. That homeless man in the alleyway shouldn’t have said anything when Jungkook walked by. He should have stayed mute, crammed in that dark corner, and harassed the next person that walked by. Not him. No. That decision only resulted in him lying lifeless in his own bloodied mound of dirt.

How could he have let somebody into his car? How was it even possible that he had allowed someone to monitor him to this extent? To have somebody take this much control of his life.

Each stab, a way to release the frustration he felt to his unknown attacker.

He is reminded of the knife at that moment. He should dispose of that as well. It was likely not possible that they would be able to trace the kill back to him – many people died out in the streets each night – but he needed to be careful, nonetheless.

He drains the water and watches the red-brown liquid swirl down the drain. Lifting his white shirt, he sees that the stain is still there. With a clenched jaw, he throws the heavy cloth against the wall, creating a loud smack.

The kill should have calmed him down. He should be feeling much better, but he doesn’t. Instead, he feels worse than before because now he has lost a perfectly good shirt and a jacket along with his pride.

With one hand braced against the counter of the kitchen, he takes out the bloodied knife from his pocket. He fumbles to flip it open but cannot due to the temporary paralysis on his fingers from drowning them in the hot water. Bracing the bulk of the item against his side, he forcefully digs into it with his fingertips. It slips and nicks his bare skin on the side.

…...............

You had had to sit down on the floor after your scare from Jungkook slamming the door shut. The unused tweezers had lain beside you for a while before you could pick it back up and return it to its spot. You busied yourself with getting dressed and going out to greet him.

As you throw the long-sleeved t-shirt over your head, you let out a bitter laugh. You were too weak to even do something like inflict pain on yourself. Jungkook’s perfect timing of returning home had stopped you.

You are twisting your damp hair into a bun when you hear a loud yell from the kitchen area.

“Fuck,” Jungkook snarls. It is deeper than it should have been. He had been aware how much force he had been trying to use to snap the knife out. The self-inflicted wound above his hip continues to ooze, mocking him red in his anger.

“Jungkook?!” You run towards him. You turn the corner and see him shirtless in the middle of the kitchen, one hand holding his side with a reddish liquid running between his fingers. “Oh my god! What happened?”

He feels the drape of your wet hair against his chest before anything. You are immediately by his side, putting your hand over his to place pressure on the wound. Not bothering to ask why he is standing without a shirt, you look up at him concerned.

“My hands slipped while I was trying to take out the knife,” he explains to you.

Again without questions, you lead him to the couch and order him to sit down. He obeys and you leave momentarily to get the first aid kit. When you return, you start to dress his wound. Everything is starting to resolve until Jungkook suddenly chuckles, wincing when it causes his wound to slightly tear.

“Jeon Jungkook!” You reprimand.

He grips the couch while you pour medical alcohol over it. “How ironic,” he says, voice laced with fatigue.

You had thought your heart had fallen out of your chest when you found him bleeding. All the worst possible scenarios had suddenly flown across your mind, and you thought that you were going to watch him die before you.

Not again, your heart has screamed before you could stop it.

Even now, as you were faced before the relatively small but deep wound, you could not stop the racing sensation you felt both mentally and physically.

“What are you talking about?” you say.

He hears the tremble in your voice. How strange.

Lilacs. That is what he is smelling from your shampoo.

“I’m usually the one to patch you up when you’re hurt. Now it’s the other way around,” he sighs.

“You haven’t even begun to explain what you were doing, trying to take out a knife while standing shirtless in our kitchen.”

“Our…” he laughs again.

You had fully been meaning to smack him for making it harder for you to clean the wound until it registers in your mind what he had said. What you let slip.

“You said ‘our kitchen’. I thought I was only a tenant here,” he says.

“Well you’ve… I mean… Y-You are…” you stutter.

Jungkook rests his head back, feeling an extreme form of tiredness on his body. Everything that had happened that day comes crashing down, knocking his breath out completely. It is as if somebody had thrown consecutive punches and he is now feeling its after effects. His stalker, the random kill, this self-inflicted wound.

You mumble something.

“What was that?” He is knocked out of his thoughts. He looks down at the top of your head. The wound has been covered but your fingers linger on his body, and he feels their coldness on his heated skin.

You mumble again.

He is tired, but you have been kind enough to help him with any questions. He can at least humour this by being patient towards you.

You don’t know what has come over you. You hadn’t meant to say it, but Jungkook’s words had flustered you. You let a single word slip out and it had acted like a key to unlock the next ones that tumble out.

“I like…” you whisper, your voice still buried beneath the veil your hair creates. You don’t even know if you truly mean what you are about to say.

You feel his fingers slip beneath your chin and tilt your head up to him. He stares at you with an unwavering type of patience and attention.

“It won’t help if you keep whispering what it is you want me to hear to my chest. Talk to me like this,” he says slowly, holding your eyes with his. There is an intense fire blazing when you meet them.

Your palms prick as they start to sweat. You gulp and wet your lips.

“I like you!” you blurt, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks immediately after, “I know it doesn’t make sense but – ”

He silences you with his lips.

...................

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 (open): @yoonchrisgull

27 notes · View notes