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out-of-jams · 5 years ago

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Airplane Mode | Track 04: 2!3! | jhs

Summary: Inspired by Love at First Touch by bagelswrites.

In a world where a bruise marks the first touch of your soulmate, time is the only thing that matters. The marks take hours to appear, sometimes even days if you're really unlucky. Once First Touch is initiated, both parties only have a few weeks to find the other. From then on, the body begins to reject any form of sustenance other than the touch of the other. If one fails to find their soulmate in time, they starve to death.

So what happens when your soulmate is a world famous idol?

And you're just one fan in a sea of many who can't even speak the same language?

Pairing: Hoseok x Fem Character

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Fluff. Angst. Idol!au. Smut. Soulmate!au. Explicit language.

Warnings: Angst.

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The sun was just beginning to warm the sky, orange and yellow rays peeking out through the clouds. It was still cold and the winter chill seeped through protective layers to freeze skin. The city had long since awoken and the streets were filled with life as people began their day.

It was quiet however, as Eunjae softly closed the door of her grandmother's apartment behind her. Warm air melted the cold from her skin as she stepped into the living room and she figured that her grandmother must have blasted the heat all night. She’d barely even stepped inside and already she was beginning to sweat. Why her grandmother liked to keep the apartment at an even 80 degrees was beyond her.

Eunjae shouldn't have been surprised when the voice of her grandmother greeted her as she toed off her shoes. She was always an early riser, something that Eunjae always secretly envied her for. The only reason that she was even awake and comprehending the world around her at such an early hour was because Miles had kicked her out of his apartment that morning. Literally.

After the overwhelming events of the morning previous, Eunjae had stumbled out of the hotel with her thoughts barely entact. Everything that had been mercilessly piled on top of her had been in constant war with each other. She’d been at a loss for what to do and the only thing that kept her grounded was her best friend as she stumbled into his apartment. Miles had taken one look at her and snapped his mouth closed around the questions that had been about to spew from his mouth like a fountain.

He’d just silently grabbed her shoulders and forced her back out through the door. They’d spent the entire rest of the day window shopping in the high end stores of the Upper East Side. Neither of them had bought anything, just using the time to decompress. Eunjae was borderline flat-out broke anyway.

Miles was the one with the money. He worked part time at a hair salon near his apartment and spent the other half of his time posting beauty videos to YouTube. Most of his income came from his 3.7 million subscribers, which Eunjae relentlessly teased him for. (“My best friend is a celebrity. Don’t forget me when you get in good with Beyonce. That woman could step on me and I’d thank her.") She never said it out loud, never had to, but she would always be his biggest supporter.

The two of them had wrapped up the day by wandering through Central Park, warm coffees burning through their gloves. Whenever one of them were feeling down, somehow they’d always end up there. Miles just liked to people watch, pointing out people whose hair he’d love to give a makeover to. And Eunjae would sometimes bring her sketchbook, pencil skimming across the pages whenever she got inspired for a new design. She’d been studying fashion design at NYU (how she even got in, she still didn’t know) for the past two years, and her mind was always racing with a new draft for her portfolio.

Eunjae had been doing just that, stretched out on a bench with her back pressed to the handrail and her feet propped in Miles’ lap. She’d looked up from the blank page of her sketchbook and stared at the sharp profile of her best friend. He’d always been all jawline and high cheekbones and pouty lips.

The white lid of his steaming coffee was pressed to his mouth as he stared out at the people passing by. Eunjae had felt it then. A pressing feeling in her chest like she was losing time, like the moments like these that they shared were limited. She hadn’t even made a decision on what she was going to do about Hoseok, and already she felt like time was running out.

So she’d closed her eyes tightly and tried to commit the moment to memory. Tried to hold on to what felt like the beginning of an end.

“Eunjae, is that you?”

The call of her grandmother’s accented voice snapped Eunjae out of her thoughts. With slowly warming fingers unbuttoning her coat, she shuffled in through the entryway of the apartment. The living room to the right of the small hallway was dark, the outline of the couches just barely visible with the light streaming in through the curtained windows.

“Yeah, it's me.” Eunjae’s socked feet padded softly on the wooden floors as she made her way to the dining room at the end of the hall. The lights were on and the figure of her grandmother greeted her when she stepped through the threshold. “I’m home.”

Eunjae’s grandmother, a short Colombian woman, sat at the small dining room table. A porcelain cup of what smelled like green tea was clutched in between her wrinkled hands. Her short dark hair was streaked with strands of gray and the frame of her striped brown glasses were perched atop her head. Dressed in a comfy pink nightgown and matching slippers, she looked the epitome of a kind, warm hearted grandmother. But old age or not, she was still a Latina woman and wouldn’t hesitate to throw down with anyone that crossed her. Eunjae had been living with her ever since her parents died when she was twelve.

Her grandmother, on her mother’s side, had been the only person available and willing to take her in. Eunjae’s family on her father’s side had disowned him long before she was even born. She never got the full story as to why. All she knew was that it had something to do with her father forfeiting his inheritance of some major Korean tech company to marry her mother. The rest of her mother’s family lived somewhere out in Colombia and had been unable to be reached before her grandmother took her in with open arms.

“What are you doing awake so early, hm?” Her grandmother asked in amusement, taking a sip of her tea. “I normally have to bribe you out of bed with coffee to get you up before nightfall.”

“I-”

“And what the hell happened to your face? Don’t tell me you got into another fight.”

WIth a playful roll of her eyes, Eunjae pulled out a chair and plopped down. The bruises on both her hands and face had somewhat faded from the time she’d spent with Hoseok. They weren’t completely gone though, seeing as how the meeting had been rushed to hell and back.

“My first and only fight was way back in the ninth grade. And that was only because those assholes were beating on Miles because of his sexuality. So don’t worry, I haven’t been getting into trouble.”

“Uh huh.” Her grandmother eyed her over her teacup. “I believe you.”

“Not with that sarcastic tone, you don’t.” Eunjae snorted and leaned back into her chair. Fingers tapping on the table, she sobered. “I met my soulmate, ‘lita.”

Her grandmother raised an eyebrow in surprise and her brown eyes stared at the bruises on Eunjae’s face intently. “Then why do you look like someone just ran over your foot with their bike?”

“That was a very specific analogy.” Eunjae’s lips twitched in amusement. “Has that happened to you before?”

“You’re deflecting. Try again.”

Letting out a sigh, Eunjae hesitantly chewed on her bottom lip. “Well, he’s a celebrity for one thing.”

“That sounds horrible.” And people wondered where Eunjae got her sarcasm from.

“That’s not the part that’s bothering me.” She admitted, pulling down the sleeves of her white shirt until they covered her hands. “He lives in South Korea.”

The clock hanging above the cabinet of useless china tick-ticked into the heated air.

Eunjae paused and rubbed at the clean table with her sweater paws before continuing, “He and his band are going on tour soon. Like a world tour. And I can’t...if I stay here it’ll be hard. It’s a 14 hour flight one way just to get to South Korea. The two of us would barely even get a day in between flying to make sure neither of us starves to death. The easy solution would be for me to move there, I know. But I don’t...I don’t want to leave, ‘lita.”

Biting back tears, Eunjae took a deep, shaking breath. Her voice came out in a quiet whisper. “Everything I have is here.”

The teacup was set down on the table as her grandmother sat up a little straighter in her chair. Her hands folded themselves on the table and she pursed her full lips in thought as they sat in silence for a moment. “I never wanted to move to America. Did you know that?”

Eunjae shook her head. Her grandmother wasn’t originally from America, she’d lived in Colombia just like the rest of her mother’s side of the family before she was born.

“I wanted to stay in Colombia where I knew everyone. Where everything was familiar. I never even had thoughts of moving to America until I met your grandfather.”

Her grandmother paused to take a sip of her rapidly cooling tea. “We met when I was only seventeen and we fell in love shortly after. He was always an adventurous man, my Emiliano. Never liked to stay in one place for too long. He’d dreamed of moving to America long before we met and long after.

“We were together for three years when he told me that he wanted to leave Colombia and asked me to go with him. I didn’t know what to do for the longest time. He was the love of my life, but the love I had for where I came from competed with that.”

Fingers twisting the wedding band she still wore on her finger, Eunjae’s grandmother continued. “It took him almost a year to convince me, that man was so stubborn. But in the end I chose him over what was familiar. So, we sold what we could for money and packed up what was left over. I’d said goodbye to my friends and my family and the places that held all of my memories up until that point. We ended up settling down here in the city and we got married and had your mother. And do you know what I regret the most? What I still regret to this day, even long after your grandfather has passed?”

Eunjae shook her head slowly, enraptured with her grandmother’s story. She’d been told things about her grandfather before, though she’d never met him. This story however, was new to her. The older woman reached out a hand to cup Eunjae’s chin, fingers gently brushing against her faded bruises.

“That I didn’t leave sooner. That I wasted all of that time holding on to what I knew because I was too afraid to let go of what was familiar.”

The woman released Eunjae’s chin with a small, wistful smile. “Live your life without regrets. If you spend too much time looking back, you’ll never experience the life waiting right in front of you.”

Her words washed over Eunjae and she closed her eyes against the silent answer to her questions lingering in the air. “So you think I should—”

“Go. Yes.” Her grandmother patted her hand twice before sitting back with a huff. “Go and see what’s out there. Live your life. I may not have had a soulmate in the literal sense, but I knew your grandfather was mine from the moment we met eyes. Now you have yours. Whether you fall in love as friends, or as something deeper, know that you won’t have to experience it alone.”

“Okay...okay.” Eunjae’s head nodded before she realized it. Her grandmother was right and she knew it. Eyes opening with newly renewed vigor, she met the answer lingering in the air straight on. “I’ll go. No regrets.”

“Good.” The woman sniffed before leaning across the table once more to grab Eunjae’s bruised hands. “Now show me a picture of him. Does he look anything like Brad Pitt?”

Two hours later, Eunjae found herself sitting on the bed in her room. She didn’t spend a whole lot of time there; she practically lived at Miles’ apartment to be closer to school. The walls, painted a light, sky blue, were littered with old pictures and ripped off covers of style magazines. Sometime over the course of her life, she’d painted the walls with puffy white clouds. Lines from where Miles had scribbled sketches in chalk filled the empty spaces in between. ("You’re not touching my room with paint. You can’t even draw stick people. Here, use chalk instead, that way I can at least erase it when it turns out ugly.")

Eunjae hadn’t erased them though. The giant “M” shapes were still scattered across the walls in a multicolor rainbow of incoherent lines. It brought a smile to her face and she slid out her phone to take a picture to remember it. Her fingers paused, however, when she noticed that she missed a text from Hoseok almost an hour ago.

Unlocking her phone, she pulled up the short text conversation. She’d responded to the one text he sent her right before leaving her alone in that small, stuffy meeting room the day previous. The fact that he was just now responding must have meant that he’d been too busy to message her back after landing in Chicago yesterday.

Eunjae had gone on a whim when she’d responded earlier by using just emoji’s. She hadn’t been sure if he’d understand what she was trying to say, but figured that it would be easier than trying to decipher her words in English. A laugh slipped from her lips at his response. Apparently he’d understood and was playing along. Her fingers slid across the screen as she searched deep in the emoji section for a response.

A squeak left her lips in surprise when the speech bubble signifying that he was typing popped up. She hadn’t expected to get a response so quickly. The swoosh of an incoming text alerted her to a new message. Not like she wasn’t already staring at the screen in anticipation. The thought of texting Jung Hoseok, her soulmate, sent excitement through her veins. Even though they barely knew each other, she held out hope that they could at least become good friends.

Eunjae fell back into her bed, silver hair splayed out in an undignified mess. If they couldn’t communicate like normal human beings, at least they could talk to each other in the universal language of emojis. The thought made Eunjae snort into her pillow in amusement.

“Wow it’s so empty in here. I don’t think I’ve ever fully seen your floor before.”

Twisting from her spot standing in the middle of her empty bedroom, Eunjae glared at the blond man leaning against the door frame. His green eyes were taking in the space almost wistfully. He’d been doing a good job lately at trying to hide his emotions, but Eunjae could see straight through him. She let him be though, not wanting to traverse the minefield just yet.

“Like fifty percent of the shit in my room was yours, so you can’t even talk.” She turned back and eyed the boxes stacked against the foot of her bed with her hands on her hips.

It’d been about three weeks since that talk with her grandmother on that one chilly, winter morning. While the weather stayed the same, many things in Eunjae’s life did not. She’d called up Sejin later that day to tell him her decision. The man had sighed into the phone like a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders and thanked her for making the choice to move to Seoul.

They’d switched to FaceTime less than halfway through the lengthy phone call so that they could discuss all the details of her upcoming move. Sejin explained to her that it would be best to try and get the ball rolling as soon as possible. Big Hit would move forward with renting the available apartment in Bangtan’s building. He informed her that it would be easier if she started to ship her belongings once the lease was signed so that she could be as comfortable as possible when she arrived.

Most of her things were already there except for the few boxes still left in her room. Eunjae hadn’t been planning on leaving so soon, but plans had been changed quickly when the bagel she bit into one morning left the taste of garbage in its wake. She’d read up on the first signs of First Touch, and unfortunately the only way to know when your body was beginning to reject food was by taste.

Eunjae could still stomach food--throwing up being the next warning sign--but it tasted horrendous. It wouldn’t be long now until her body rejected food all together and she needed Hoseok’s touch to survive. Which was why her moving date had been pushed up. There was no being able to predict when it would begin, so it was best for her to leave now before she ended up starving to death. Which, in turn, would cause Hoseok to suffer the same fate.

He’d been starting to experience the same things apparently. At least that was what she was able to decipher through the game of pictogram they played through text. When he’d been informed that she was coming earlier than anticipated, the man had sent her a long string of confetti and sun emojis. What that was supposed to mean, she didn’t know. But Eunjae could garner a guess.

The two of them didn’t talk a whole lot. With his busy schedule and the time difference between them, they were only able to send off a few texts every few days. They still didn’t know very much about each other, but that was a given since they couldn’t even converse with actual words. Eunjae had brushed up on a few Korean phrases when she had the time between trying to sponge up as much information from her classes as she could. She ultimately had to drop out of NYU, but they’d been extremely understanding of the reason. Not that she’d told them who her soulmate was, of course. She didn’t want to die at the hands of ARMY, thank you very much.

“You promise to ship this off as soon as possible?” Eunjae spun back around to purse her lips at her best friend. “This is all of my wardrobe for summer and fall, so if you forget, I’ll fly back and murder you. I can’t be walking around Seoul in last season’s clothes.”

Snorting, Miles rolled his eyes. “You know, for a broke bitch you’re really high maintenance.”

Eunjae let out a noise of annoyance and punched him in the shoulder hard enough for him to let out a yelp. Turning her nose up at him, she quipped, “it would be a shame to fashion designers everywhere to wear outdated clothes. Besides, you know this broke bitch makes her own stuff. And if you want me to continue to make some for you, you’ll do what’s best for you and hush.”

Miles snorted and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Relax shorty, you know I’ll ship it off. Can’t have you hanging around beautiful Bangtan with an ‘outdated wardrobe.’”

“Whatever.” Eunjae jabbed a finger into his ribs. With a glance down at the time on her phone, she sighed. “We gotta get going. I have a flight to catch and all that jazz. And you and I both know that the lines for bag check at JFK are going to be longer than my life expectancy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Can’t have you throwing down with some innocent old lady for holding up the bag check line.”

“For the last time, Miles.” Eunjae ducked out from under his arm to grab the straps of her small, red backpack. “I did not throw down with an old lady . All I did was politely tell her that it was her turn.”

Miles shooed her hand away when she grabbed for the handle of her rolling suitcase. “Tell that to her. Pretty sure she almost had a heart attack.”

“I literally cannot stand you.”

“Better sit down then.”

The ride to the airport was too short. Eunjae had spent the time pressed up against Miles’ side in the too expensive cab that he insisted he splurge on. She’d already said goodbye to her grandmother who’d ushered her out the door with a hug and a promise that she could fend for herself.

Like predicted, the line for bag check in JFK had been ridiculously long. Big Hit had set her up with a flight in the morning so that she would arrive in Seoul by nightfall. Sejin had explained to her that it would be easier to be discreet at night, since it would be way less likely for a fan to spot him picking her up from the airport.

Silence pressed down on both Eunjae and Miles as they stood in line. He had tried to lighten the mood during the ride over, but started to flag halfway there before falling into silence all together once they arrived. Eunjae had been doing her best to repress the thoughts racing through her mind a mile a minute, instead trying to focus on what was going on around her.

It wasn’t until they reached the point of no return that Eunjae turned to her best friend, passport and ticket in hand. Standing off to the side by security, she took a deep breath Eunjae wasn’t much of a crier. The events of the past few weeks was the most tears she shed in a long time.

“Whelp,” she began, trying to bite down on her quivering bottom lip. “This is me.”

“This is you.” Miles’ voice came out just as quiet as hers. Like Eunjae, he preferred to wear his smiles like a mask. “You better call me when you land. I don’t care what time it is.”

“I will.” Eunjae promised through the tears welling in her eyes. Her soft voice broke and she pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes to stop the salty water from spilling over. “I promise.”

“Don’t.” He looked up, staring hard at the light above their heads. His mask was starting to crack. People passed them by, rolling suitcases as they traveled to their own destinations. “Don’t.”

“I’m sorry.” And she was. Not just for the tears, and he understood.

“Don’t apologize either.” Miles finally looked down at her, his green eyes glistening. He let go of the suitcase by their feet and wrapped his arms around her shaking body. Eunjae clung to him, fingers clutching at his thick coat like a lifeline. He rested his chin on top of her head as he murmured, “go have fun and don’t be sad. You’re moving to a new country, your soulmate is an international superstar, and you’re going to get to go on tour. What’s there to be sad about?”

His words contrasted greatly with the tears rolling down his cheeks. Eunjae could feel them dampening her hair, but she couldn’t move away. Not yet.

“Go get that J-dick.”

A loud, shaky laugh left her lips at his statement and she finally pulled away to wipe at the tears she refused to acknowledge. Eunjae slapped his arm lightly with a sniff. “You’re a menace to society.”

“But you love me anyway.” He shrugged, using the sleeves of his bulky coat to wipe his face.

“I do.” She gave him a watery smile, dark eyes staring up at him earnestly.

“I love you too, shorty.” Miles hooked an arm around her neck to squeeze her to his chest one last time. “Have a safe flight. And say hello to those adonises for me.”

“‘No goodbyes,’” Eunjae pulled away, holding out a pinky as she quoted the small, fresh tattoo that pulled at the skin of her ribs. Huffing out a watery laugh, Miles hooked his larger pinky around hers and quoted the words from his matching one.

“‘Only seeya later.’”

Eunjae grabbed the handle of her small carryon suitcase and backed away slowly, not yet moving her eyes from his. Her hand lifted in a sad wave that he returned and, with one last parting, wavering smile, she turned around.

No regrets. The words matched the cadence of her fading footsteps.

#bts #bts soulmate au #bts fanfic #hoseok #hoseok fanfic

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logicalbookthief · 6 years ago

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Game Night

So I actually had most of this written before 15x18, and then the episode gave us great Maggie + B team moments, so I figured, well, now I have to deliver.

Featuring drunk interns, Schmico, canon-compliant Jaggie (barely but for the sake of, yanno, canon) and teeny-tiny hints to potential future Caggie because @schmicoismysunsword has convinced me it ships.

Now cross-posted on ao3!

Maggie doesn’t make a habit of mixing her professional life with her personal one. Aside from the fact that her sisters work at the same hospital as she does, as does her boyfriend, and her ex-- Look, the point is, Maggie tries to keep her private life a private one, albeit not with the passion of Dr. Bailey.

Just -- she has the unfortunate tendency to babble. Aloud. To anyone nearby, who might be listening.

Which meant unintentionally venting to interns, who were always around, and always eager to listen. It starts with Parker, who, if not sworn to secrecy, at least has the decency to pretend he isn’t hanging off every word that comes out of her mouth. Schmitt is one of the more eager of the bunch and he happens to be on her service today.

“Game night,” she mutters long-sufferingly. “Why tonight, when Meredith and Amelia are busy, and apparently, I don’t have enough of a life where I have any excuse to be somewhere else.”

“Oh, right, the football game is tonight. Nic-- Dr. Kim mentioned that was a thing-- a thing Dr. Avery does,” Schmitt stutters, casting some furtive, flustered looks her way. Honestly, Maggie isn’t paying attention.

“I hate when I have to pretend to care about sports on TV. You know what else is on tonight? The Magicians. But you don’t see me making a night of it with friends.” Not that she has any, apparently. At least, any without kids or prior commitments.

Maggie deflates, more self-conscious than she means to be. “April enjoyed watching sports. Or maybe she was better at pretending than I am...”

Something dejected in her tone must spark a bit of nerve in Schmitt, who clears his throat. “Hey, you could -- uh, you could come out with us tonight,” he says, shrinking a bit under her stare. “Uh, if you wanted.”

“Us?” she echoes critically.

“Oh, um, well there’s me, Doctors Helm, Qadri, Parker--” All interns, Maggie mentally concludes, at the exact moment Schmitt realizes he’s asking an attending to tag along with his friends.

“Never mind, it--” Finding an extra burst of nerve, Schmitt spews out in a rush, “It’s trivia night at this pub we like and you’d make a great ringer.”

Then he goes on ahead to the next patient on their rounds, as Maggie blinks. Has she sunk so low to consider to hanging out with a couple of kids?

Except, she thinks with a wince, that sounds exactly like something Kiki would’ve said to her. After all, it isn’t as if the interns are that much younger than she is. Maggie’s so far ahead it only feels that way. She was always the kid to talk to the adults rather than friends her own age. And when she attended her first year of medical school still in braces while her peers were all adults, she had no choice but to grow up fast.

Sacrificing one night of professional integrity probably wouldn’t tarnish her career forever. And a trivia night is exactly the sort of brain flexing she would prefer over an evening of her male coworkers yelling about a ball not making it over the right line.

“What happens outside of the hospital, stays outside of the hospital,” Maggie springs on a stunned Schmitt, ending any further discussion with a firm glance. “I’ll be there at 7.”

“Dr. Pierce, if you don’t mind me saying so,” Qadri begins, and then, with the utmost reverence, “You fucking rock at trivia.”

Schmitt and Parker whoop in agreement.

“I do,” Maggie asserts, flushed with victory. And it’s probably the jalapeno poppers, too.

“I can’t believe you argued with the guy asking the questions,” Schmitt admits. “And you won.”

“Well, if you don’t have an encyclopedia knowledge of Happy Potter,” she preens. “Don’t try me.”

Helm returns with the celebratory round of shots, including one for her. Is it unethical to take shots with your interns? While on the clock, yes, definitely. Then again, it’s a little unethical to sleep with interns, too, and yet--

Maggie downs the shot.

Parker hisses as the burn of alcohol slides down his throat. “I need at least three more of those after the study session I pulled last night,” he says, winded.

“Right, your intern exams are coming up.” A swell of fondness rises in her chest as she remembers toiling over her textbooks, the ease of assessment, the pride of passing with high marks. “You guys excited?”

A chorus of groans answers her question. Oh, right. Not everyone was a child prodigy who gloried in tests. Maggie flinches and figures to hell with it, she’s already in this deep. She orders the next round of shots.

“I’ve read so much I wore out my contacts,” Schmitt mumbles, his cheek plastered against the table.

“Did you fall asleep wearing them again?” Taryn huffs at his miserable nod. “Dude, you’re going to go blind.”

“And fail your exam,” Parker adds, prompting another groan.

Maggie has the weird urge to pat his head consolingly. Luckily, Qadri does it instead. “At least if you fail you have a hot surgeon boyfriend to support you,” she mutters enviously.

“You could be a house-husband,” Helm proposes, raising her glass at Maggie and Qadri. “Because it’s 2019 and that’s equality.”

Schmitt seems to consider this seriously.

“You wouldn’t have to shave fish,” Qadri tacks on, wrinkling her nose. “No offense.”

It takes a full minute for Maggie to realize the remark is directed at her. “Oh! None taken,” she says quickly. “I take no responsibility for that exercise. Or the smell.”

“Which still hasn’t come out of my hijab,” Qadri mourns. Seeing Qadri look any amount of sad, Maggie decides suddenly, should be a crime listed under do no harm.

“I’m sorry,” she offers. “I’ll make Jackson buy you a new one!”

For some reason, that sets them into a fit of giggles.

“Drunk Dr. Pierce is the best,” Parker declares, and then blushes, bright and splotchy. “Except for, uh, sober Dr. Pierce. She’s the most wonderful, uh--”

“Careful, don’t hurt yourself,” says Helm, wryly.

“Sober Dr. Pierce would be at home, pretending to care about sports,” Maggie scoffs.

“With Link, Dr. Avery and Dr. Kim?” Dahlia grins. “Sounds like a dream.”

“Pretty sure we’ve all had that dream,” Levi snorts.

“Uh, hello?” Helm pulls a face, jerking a thumb at herself. “Lesbian.”

“Everyone except Taryn has probably had that dream,” he amends.

“Her, and me,” Maggie says blandly. Alcohol loosens her tongue almost as much as bullies and outrage. “As if our free time isn’t limited enough by his projects, and my environmental research, now Jackson’s gone and bonded with his new buddy Link, who loves sports, and camping, and nature, and -- bikes, I guess?”

“Nico says Link’s got a man-crush on Dr. Avery,” Schmitt whispers in what’s not really a whisper. Parker snorts messily into his drink, which she finds weirdly endearing.

“Please tell me Kim also has one of those secret bro handshakes with Link?” Maggie begs.

Schmitt nods. “Yeah, no, they do. He tried to show me it once, but I, um, accidently hit his chin with my open palm.”

Fits of laughter overcome the group while Schmitt flushes. “Aw. Did you kiss it better?” Parker wheedles.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” says Schmitt, tight-lipped.

“You do so,” Helm snorts, shoving him in the chest.

“Hey,” says Qadri, noting how Maggie’s spaced out. “At least if he’s watching sports and -- I dunno, crushing beer cans? -- with Dr. Link and Levi’s ortho god, then you don’t have to act like you want to hear about baseball.”

“Football,” Parker corrects.

“There’s a difference?” Qadri wonders.

Maggie would try to answer, except the implication has finally sunk in. “His ortho god?” she asks, gesturing skeptically at Schmitt.

“Yuh huh. Dr. Kim is his boyfriend,” Helm shares with relish.

“Oh!” What she means to say is congrats, yet what emerges is a clumsy, “Wow. Good job.”

Schmitt only shrugs. “I don’t know how,” he confesses in a slightly dazed tone. “Sometimes I think I died in that freak windstorm and this is just the last of my synapses firing off one last wet dream.”

“Dude, that’s dark,” Parker murmurs.

“I haven’t slept or had sex in...” Schmitt pauses, clearly wracking his brain. “What’s today?”

“Preaching to the choir,” Maggie mutters. Huh, maybe that has something to do with her mood.

“Oh, God,” Dahlia exclaims, as if she just cracked the code. “What if that’s why. What if Link is sleeping with Dr. Avery??”

Parker nods sagely. “That makes sense.”

“Oh, God,” Maggie echoes. After a couple shots of tequila, the theory seems totally plausible. “Oh, no, what do I--”

“Don’t worry,” Schmitt interjects, radiating a suspicious amount of calm. “Link is too busy fooling around with Dr. Shepperd to sleep with your boyfriend.”

Maggie exhales in relief. Then it dawns on her, what he actually said. “Wait,” she yelps. “What? He’s sleeping with my sister?”

Schmitt blinks. “You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t know!” Maggie gapes. “How did you know?!”

“He’s fucking the other ortho god,” Helm and Qadri chime in.

“Right,” says Maggie, slowly and with effort. “Right, okay, I’ve got to remember that detail for tomorrow. So maybe, only … one more round of shots?”

Helm’s eyes light up. “Dr. Pierce is the coolest,” she declares, and the rest unanimously agree.

Maggie Pierce has never been named the coolest anything -- the most impressive, sure, and the most talented by far -- so she can’t help the thrill that shoots through her, headier than any glass of alcohol.

“We’re taking a Lyft.” Parker has emerged as de-facto leader of the drunk brigade, voted in as least likely to order an axe-murderer for a driver. “Levi, you in?”

Schmitt shakes his head, wincing as it jostles his precarious balance. “Nico said he would pick me up if I wanted.”

Helm snickers. “House-husband,” she sing-songs at him.

“Breadwinner,” Schmitt fires back. Neither of these are insults, Maggie notes, uncertain if she should point this out.

“Ma--” Parker catches himself with another blush. “Dr. Pierce, do you, uh, need a ride?”

“Hey!” Schmitt says like he’s had a full-on brainblast. “You can wait with me and Nico can get you, too.”

“Really?” Maggie perks. It saved her the trouble of calling anyone liable to embarrass her; namely, either of her sisters or worse, Karev. “That would be fantastic.”

“Sure, he’s already at Jackson’s place,” Schmitt replies confidently. If she were slightly more sober, Maggie doubts that logic would hold up to scrutiny. As it is, it makes perfect sense to wait for Schmitt’s ortho god to drop her off at the place he drove in from.

Turns out, Dr. Kim is a sexy sight to behold, even with a proprietary arm wrapped around Schmitt, who’s too busy mumbling grateful nonsense into his shoulder to notice the adoration in his boyfriend’s gaze.

If he is surprised to catch Maggie in a similar state of inebriation, Kim has the decency to make no mention of this. Instantly, he’s her new favorite attending-level doctor. He is also a gentleman, offering Maggie his hand as she clamors into the backseat of his car, all the while still steadying Schmitt with a hand clasped over his waist.

Maggie marvels at the coordination and strength, wonders if he could carry them both simultaneously, should the need arise.

“He’s awesome at carrying people,” Schmitt brags, meaning that, whoops, she said that aloud.

Kim chuckles. “Thanks, babe,” he says, wryly. “But at the risk of oversharing, maybe don’t go into detail.”

“What, that it’s a sex thing?” Schmitt says in what he clearly believes is a whisper for their ears only, before he collapses back onto the seat, supremely self-satisfied. At exactly the same volume, he adds, “See? I can be discreet.”

“Great job,” Kim snorts, unimpressed. And yet unable to resist pressing a kiss into his boyfriend’s brow before he starts up the engine. They’re cute, Maggie thinks blearily, and hopes she managed to keep the thought inside her head.

Judging by the grin Kim shoots her out of the corner of his eye, she probably didn’t succeed.

Jackson looks surprised to see Nico at his door again, not that long after he left. “Hey, man. Did you forget something?”

“Nope,” says Nico, cheerily. “Just doing a drop-off.”

“You--” Jackson stares in bewilderment, until Nico moves aside, allowing his passenger to sidestep his bulk. “Mags?”

Maggie stumbles to the door, using one of his sturdy biceps for balance. “Thanks for the lift, Kim,” she waves over her shoulder.

He nods, still smirking as he walks back to his car, away from the bewildered Jackson.

“Mags, are you -- you good?” He hovers close behind as she carefully navigates the stairs, forgoing the temptation of the couch for the queen-sized bed.

“I,” Maggie begins, slurring with great dignity. “Fucking rock at trivia.”

The morning-after is almost worth the hangover. Watching Jackson try to puzzle out what she got up to last night -- and exactly how Dr. Kim fits into the picture -- is too funny, since Maggie deigns to tell him only the bare minimum, lest she look as silly as she feels when she walks into work with a lingering stuffiness.

“Wow. You look as though you need at least a double-shot,” says a familiar voice, rippling with sympathy, but also a fair bit of humor. “Good thing I got you a triple.”

Maggie stares blankly at Kim and at the to-go cup suddenly placed in her hands. Truly he is a kind and benevolent ortho god. “What’s this for?”

Kim grins. “Last night my boyfriend went on about how cool Dr. Pierce was, and how hungover you’d be, and that it was his fault,” he explains, obviously quite amused. “And this morning he groggily demanded I make amends by being especially nice to you this morning. Hence, coffee.”

“That is--” A level of thoughtfulness that made all boyfriends, including her own, seem like total jackasses in comparison. Nico smirks as if he knows exactly what she’s thinking and enjoys the high ground very much. “So unnecessarily sweet. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he says, and leans in, a sheepish twitch to his unfaltering smile. “I’d also appreciate if he didn’t get fired over whatever you may or may not have heard last night.”

Maggie laughs.

“Honestly, I’ve forgotten a decent amount already,” she admits, for the sake of all three of them. “Except the part about Dr. Link and my sister?”

Kim chokes on his sip of coffee. “Ah, you didn’t hear that from me.”

“No, I heard that from your drunk boyfriend,” she replies, picking up the pace to follow his long strides. “But I absolutely need to hear more from you!”

At his reluctance, Maggie pulls out her trump card. “I’ll buy you a bagel.”

Nico stops to considers her. “Multigrain, veggie cream cheese?”

Evidently, Kim has a price. Maggie appreciates in someone who is still, until further notice, her favorite attending.

Petition for more of what 15x18 gave us with Maggie and the interns? And for Maggie and Nico to become friends?? Hire me Grey’s

#schmico #schmico fic #maggie pierce #levi schmitt #nico kim #b team #grey's anatomy #taryn helm #casey parker #dahlia qadri

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robinskalechip · 5 years ago

Text

home - chapter ten

robin buckley x reader

a/n: thank you for all of the positive feedback :) it means a lot

warnings: language, light smut

masterlist

not my gif!

chapter ten - at your own will

sofia and robin had spent the last two weeks getting to know each other more and more. sofia took robin to school and picked her up and hung out with her at the store on the days she wasn’t with the kids. once they found out about her going to see the byers they all immediately begged to go with, turning it into a full fledged family trip as long as they didn’t ruin the surprise that they were going which only joyce knew about. they had to push it back a week from its original date though because they had an av event that weekend and sofia would never pull her children from their passion.

it was the friday evening before they all went on the trip and sofia had gone to drop off food for steve and robin. steve’s only concern was the tacos he had in front of him while robin had other things on her mind. as much as she saw sofia, she remembered how much she missed her.

she missed her touch

robin watched as steve was munching on his four large tacos until she redirected her attention to sofia, motioning her to follow her

robin led sofia into the storage room which housed supplies of all varieties

sofia walked in to have robin close the door immediately after her entering

“what are we doing here-“

she was cut off by robin slamming her lips into hers, pushing her again the now closed door

robin reached her hand behind the other girl’s body and found the doorknob, locking it

the kiss was heated and passionate and only intensified as robin pushed harder and moved towards sofia’s neck

the two had only ever made out a lot and i mean a lot like every single time robin goes to sofia’s apartment they make out like its nobody’s business sofia was more experienced than robin and was making it her mission to take things slow with her, she didn’t want this one to be like any of the other relationships she had been in. and she told robin this, their entire relationship past their first sober kiss was handled with perfect communication on each party. robin was just a horny teenager and was constantly wanted to touch the girl she had been spending so much time with

robin kissed the other girl’s neck and they both tried to keep quiet. sofia smiled as robin “worked her magic” so to speak, causing a small moan to escape from sofia’s lips, “come over tonight”

robin stopped, looking at the other girl, “for-?”

sofia nodded

robin smiled and kissed her once more before pulling back, “can’t wait”

the two kissed a few more times before they opened the door to see steve standing there with a mouth full of tacos haha “mike is here”

he was still only focused on the taco cutie

robin and sofia were slightly blushing as they walked past steve and saw mike standing behind the counter

“just wanted to stop by and call shot gun for tomorrow”

robin quickly stepped towards him in a defensive way “uh no, front seat is mine”

mike protested “sofia? tell her its mine”

sofia enjoyed seeing robin interact with the kids “rob gets the front seat kid”

mike started to storm out of the store as sofia yelled “7 O CLOCK DONT BE LATE IF YOU WANT TO SPEND AS MUCH TIME WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND AS POSSIBLE”

the three older ones laughed as he stormed off, robin said she’d meet sofia at her apartment after work so they parted ways for those next few hours

once the end of steve and robin’s shift ended, robin started to get her bike before steve offered to take her home. she warned him that she was going to sofia’s and that she just needed to drop by her house for clothes and he still insisted.

on the ride robin began talking to steve about sofia, “you know i really cannot for the life of me understand how and why sofia was friends with you and all of them”

steve began to talk in a playfully defensive tone, “listen her and i, were practically married in kindergarten”

robin laughed, “you’re kidding”

“nope nope not at all, our parents were convinced we would date later on but just never happened. we saw each other almost every day our entire childhood’s and never once even kissed or anything, guess i wasn’t her type”

robin laughed to herself, seeinf the irony

steve laughed, “she wasn’t even friends with them, she was just friends with me. she HATED tommy more than anything and she said she wanted to knock carol out every time she opened her mouth but it was ok because she was cool with me”

robin smiled thinking back to a rant sofia had about how much tommy h annoyed her

“she made me a better person rob..it was different when she left”

robin furred her brows, “why did you stop being that person?”

“i was angry and confused and cared more about my reputation than actually talking about how i felt so i went on to being a douchebag”

“did you love her steve?”

“yes. she was like a sister to me. she still is but i got over her leaving and i still don’t know why exactly she left but i trust her. she knows better than any of us do”

once they arrived at robin’s house, she ran up to her room and grabbed the bag she had packed the night before and placed some extra clothes in for the night

steve and robin continued to talk about some of his happiest memories with sofia

once they got to sofia’s apartment, robin thanked steve for the ride and off he went to hang out with the boys aka mike lucas and dustin

robin knocked on the door and on the other side she heard yelling “ITS OPEN”

she opened the door to find sofia in the kitchen

she had on small shorts and a pullover sweatshirt with the name “illuminous” sewed onto the pocket area in a small font

the beautiful girl was also occupied by her thin framed glasses and her hair up slightly, as much as her hair could go up because of how short it was

she was stirring a pot as she told robin “you can put a movie in if you want”

robin nodded before approaching the girl to kiss her neck and then whisper “that smells good” in the pot was a small portion of pasta, just enough for two

sofia turned her face to meet robin’s and kiss her gently, “stop distracting me freckles”

after eyeing the cuisine a little longer, robin went a found one of her favorite film, a streetcar named desire which she knew was also one of sofia’s favorites so she started to set it up as sofia called her into the kitchen and asked her to get plates and what not set

domestic

robin set the table and poured two cups of italian cream soda

once the pasta was finished, sofia placed the pot onto the table and admired her work to then turn to robin “if it blows i’m blaming linda”

the two ate and talked, tonight’s topics were whether or not truman capote was in love with perry smith, how long lucas and max would last until their next fight, and what movie genre was the best

after they ate, robin layed on the couch taking up almost every inch before sofia made her way to the area, giving robin a displeased look “you left me zero room rob”

robin looked at her and scooted slightly into the couch’s back cushion

sofia walked towards the television and took out the movie, “fine, we can watch it in the bedroom”

robin got up and followed sofia into the singular bedroom of the apartment and jumped onto the bed as sofia put in the movie and quickly followed robin into the bed

they cuddled right away bc softies

about an hour into the movie robin looked at sofia as she was watching to movie closely, even though she could feel robin’s eyes on her and began to laugh “what?”

robin smiled at her, “nothing, you’re just..”

sofia looked at her, “im just what?”

robin didn’t even finish her sentence before going to kiss the other girl who had previously claimed her shoulder as hers before pulling away to finish the mystery “you’re beautiful sof”

sofia smiled into the next kiss “you’re not so bad yourself buckley”

robin’s hands found their way to sofia’s neck as she deepened the kiss and positioned herself onto sofia’s lap

robin took off her shirt to reveal the black bra she had worn to which brought out a “holy shit” from sofia as she continued to kiss robin and quickly began to move to her neck. although it was intense as things began to escalate more and more, robin felt safe and was aware if she felt uneasy at any time sofia would respect her take notes

sofia pulled away from her neck to then place one more gentle kiss to robin’s lips before whispering,

“anche tu sei bella you’re beautiful too”

next chapter

#robin stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #maya hawke #robin fanfiction #robin #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin x reader #robin x y/n #robin x you #robin buckley

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danetobelieve · 5 years ago

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Baywatch || Blanche and Winston

With the amount of people telling her not to go back to the beach along with the amount of people she was telling not to even go near the beach, Blanche was pretty sure this wasn’t the greatest idea. Someone had to do it, though. Someone needed to get close enough to the chest. Blanche desperately wanted to know what was in it like everyone else, but she, thankfully, knew better. Just get the pictures, and then get the fuck out of there. Maybe fight a killer lobster or two. Blanche pulled up to the address Winston gave her, self-consciously patting her pocket with the mace Cece had graciously let her keep. First thing she did was put a nice sticker of, ironically, a crab on it when she got home so she wouldn’t mix it up with a can of actual mace. Her back seat had other makeshift weapons. Hairspray and one of those large candle lighters, a baseball bat, and a can of RAID. She glanced to the back seat, frowning. Maybe she over did it. She looked rolled down the window when she saw Winston approaching, leaning looking out the window. “I think this is where I’m supposed to call you a loser and make a mean girl’s reference.”

Honestly, moments ago Winston had been stood looking at what they had decided to call their survival pack. They were certain that they would need more then this. But they had ‘borrowed’ one of Ricky’s axes that they used to cut firewood and they had also grabbed a first aid kit, water, some food (just in case) and a few other essentials. This after everything that had happened to their house with Skylar and Ricky, well Winston wasn’t entirely sure that they were sane anymore. But Blanche was cool, in a way that not many people were and she was funny too. Winston didn’t want anything to happen to her and so they were going to go with her. Even if it meant lying to Remmy. Something that Winston felt immensely guilty about. This was a really bad idea. They hadn’t even bothered to tell Ricky what they were doing. “Probably, but it would’ve fallen on deaf ears because that is one film that I have never watched,” they chuckled nervously and then realised what they were doing and tried to make it sound natural except it probably just made it sound even more anxious then before, “we should probably get this over with.”

“That’s got to be a cardinal sin or something.” Not having seen Mean Girls wasn’t important. They were more nervous than she was, and that was saying something. Blanche wondered if she should call the whole thing off - probably - especially if Winston was anxious about it. But, in her heart of hearts, she knew she wasn’t going to do that because at the end of the day she knew she was just going to go anyway and if she went without Winston they were going to get mad at her and she didn’t want that. She liked Winston, and she wanted them to be her friend because… Well, she needed those, and also they were funny enough that almost dying in the middle of the woods via hedgehound (moose?) was a little less terrible. So that had to count for something, right? Blanche glanced over at them, glancing them over - “Is that - Is that an axe?” Blanche gapped. Red axe for red lobsters, she guessed. A giggle came out of her, mostly because she was trying to imagine Winston swinging that thing at a giant lobster - Karkinoid, really. Snickering, she shook her head. “Christ. Toss it in the back with the rest of my makeshift weapons. The good news is -” Blanche said, checking her blind spot before she pulled back out onto the road. “- that someone offered a ‘small finders fee’ for any parts of crab - er, Karkinoid we kill. So that’s cool. How’s your housemate?”

“Well if not seeing Mean Girls doesn’t send me to hell for my sins then I am sure Rick or Remmy will after they find out what I have agreed to here.” Winston was a person full of regrets as they reached over towards the back seat and deposited their axe there. “Uh, yes, it is an axe, Ricky had a whole tool shed off of his studio that is just fool of odd tools and this looked like it would be the best option,” they weren’t sure why Ricky had an actual fire axe but in a time of need like the one that they found themselves in, Winston wasn’t about to ask a bunch of questions about a good thing. “You really … came prepared.” Winston wondered if perhaps they really should invest in a gun. They weren’t sure that their morals would allow them to honestly. After watching their dad work at the WCPD for many years, they had become convinced that they weren’t the sort of thing that everyday people should just have access to. “Ricky?” they asked quietly, “Yeah he’s fine, a little banged up but he’ll do ok.” Winston was glad that the back porch was at the back of the house and not the front. They would hate for Blanche to see the mess that the karkinoids had made.

“How about this: You deal with Ricky, and I deal with Remmy once we’re back,” Blanche said. “Or, actually, send them both after me. This is my fault anyway,” she shrugged slightly. If the shoe fit, she would deal with both the wrath of Remmy and Ricky once it came down to it. Now, maybe her morality was slightly corrupted now that she also fully had a plan of killing one of the Karkinoids so she could show Regan - though, she wasn’t quite sure how that was going to work. Maybe if she just took it’s head or it’s giant claw or something… She didn’t get a chance to dwell on it though because there was something in Winston’s quiet tone that sobered her up a little. “Good,” Blanche said, glancing at them. Not good. People were getting hurt because of this. “Even better, there’s a clear forecast. I didn’t get hit with a single salmon or carp on my way here.” She made the turn off to get to the beach. “Alright, so, you know what the plan is right? No touching or trying to open the stupid thing. Just pictures of it.”

“Or we can just not tell them about any of this,” Winston replied, “we’re just getting in and out and nothing is going to go wrong so there won’t be anything to tell them.” Winston knew that they were kidding themselves. This was something so big that there was no way that they were going to be able to hide it from their friends. “I’ve got your back,” they said with a shrug, “you’re not forcing me to come.” They knew that they didn’t have to do this, the truth was that they really didn’t want to, but they wouldn’t let Blanche do this on their own. Helping people over come adversity was the name of the game, this was just different from forensics. But after everything that had happened at their own home the other night, Winston wasn’t sure that they could just sit back and let nothing happen. “This may be the first time that I’ve ever used fish as a descriptor for the weather and I have to be honest, if a large fish never misses me narrowly as I walk to work then it’ll be too soon.” They nodded calmly, pulling out their inhaler and taking a quick preventative breath of it before flashing Blanche a quick smile. “No touching, in and out.”

“Mmm, well you should know that I'm a notoriously bad liar,” Blanche grimaced, remembering all the bullshit with Regan. Her so called jenga tower of lies was only staying up with pieces of string, duct tape, and chewing gum. “If they ask, it’s not worth it to even try.” She glanced to them, feeling a little touched that they had her back. Was this what friendship was? Blanche was bad at that - gauging just what type of level she was on with people. “I have your back too,” Blanche said, truthfully. If anyone was going to get hurt on this mission impossible/investigative bullshit, it should be her and absolutely not Winston. “Ugh, you should have seen the size of the salmon that almost knocked me off my bike - and the bruise to prove it.” She glanced at them, grinning. “In, out, might mace a few lobsters here and there. Sounds like my ideal beach day, to be honest.” She made the last turn, and carefully pulled her car up where she had the last time with Remmy and Moose. Blanche undid her seatbelt. “Alright - pick your poison from our weapons cabin. I’m taking the mace -” she held up her acid mace. “Because this shit could probably melt through steel.”

“Me too,” Winston admitted, “I don’t know why but I always forget that I’ve told a lie to set up the lie I’m telling, and then after that my preceding lies begin to contradict each other and then I get confused and slip up.” They didn’t often try to lie because of it. “If they ask we come clean and I’ll hide with my parents until Ricky inevitably tells them what I did.” They laughed mutely at their own joke. It was reassuring to know that Blanche was there to help them should things go south. It was nice to know that there were other people who got this. Ricky had always known about this and it wasn’t exactly the same. “I saw a swordfish go straight through an awning and almost impale an old woman named Gertrude.” They raised an eyebrow at the idea of the upcoming activity. “Where did you get lobster mace from?” They paused for a moment longer before scratching behind their ears and fidgetting a bit. They could never sit still when something big was coming up. “I’ll take the axe then, I guess, unless there’s something better you think I should take instead?” This felt like the weirdest walking dead cosplay ever.

The good part about being cut off from her parents is no one could tell her to do anything anymore. What was Remmy going to do, call up her mom and tell her what she had done? That would result in a mad voicemail she wouldn’t even listen too because it wasn’t like she answered her mother’s calls anyway. She winced at their description of a woman named Gertrude almost turning into a shish kabob via swordfish. What was it, Regan said? Weather patterns her ass. “Um -” Blanche took her keys out of the ignition and stuffed them in her jacket pocket. “A friend. One of my friends that I can’t tell you about,” she added, and hopefully that would put an end to that. She did not want Cece to go all memory-wipe on her ass. Raising an eyebrow as she got out of the car. “You want the axe? I mean…” It wasn’t that she doubted they could use the axe to their advantage, it was just a little more close for comfort if they did get into some crabby trouble. “That should be fine. I want to take a chunk out of one of’em anyway.” She glanced down the rocks, to the beach, spotting the chest. Blanche pointed. “There she is. Stupid thing.”

Grabbing the axe, Winston paused for a second before scooping up the hair spray and some candlelighters too. Y’know. Just in case. Fire seemed to work fine, though Winston wasn’t sure that they really wanted a repeat display of the other night. They’d felt exhausted for hours afterwards before sleeping for 12 hours. “I’m hoping that we don’t even need this,” Winston replied, praying to whatever gods actually existed that there wasn’t about to be some vicious crustaceans that were going to make their lives a misery. Stepping away from the car, Winston made sure that they only had the absolutely necessary things with them. Phone, inhaler, axe, hair spray, candle lighters, y’know the essentials. “How do you want to do this?” Winston asked as they slowly crept towards the rocks that overlooked the beach, hoping to get a better view. For the moment everything seemed relatively clear, but there was a lot that they still couldn’t see. “You’ve got a plan right?”

Blanche relaxed half a bit when Winston grabbed the candlelighters and her can of hairspray. Shit was cheap, that could set anything on fire. She glanced out at the chest before glancing at them when they asked her what her plan was. Somehow, she didn’t think would would be helpful to tell them that she was just going to be like Nike and just do it. Just get down, rush to the chest, snap her photos, kill a lobster when the inevitably came to try and chop their limbs off…. She just needed to make it sound more formulaic than that. That would make Winston feel better. “Um.” Which all would have been fine and good if she could think of a better way to do it. “Well….” She squinted down at the sand and could itty bits of remains of lobster from the last time she’d been here. The acid, plus the other Karkinoid feasting on each other, there wasn’t much left. She patted her pockets. Mace in one, cell phone in the other. Shivering slightly, “All that’s left is to just do it now. There’s a bathroom over that way on the beach where we can run and hide if it’s too much.” Blanche shrugged, before carefully sitting down on the edge and pushing herself off so she could carefully climb. “Careful, the rocks are slippery, it’s a miracle I didn’t break something the last time I flew down them at top speed.”

Pausing, Winston moved through the rocks as carefully as they possibly could. “Ok, just … just do it.” Winston felt their heart race. They felt blood surge around their body. They felt adrenaline roar. They could feel everything tense as they moved down towards the beach. A can of hair spray in one hand and a fire axe in the other. This was perhaps the bizarrest they had ever picture themselves. A nervous bead of sweat trickled down their left temple and rolled off their jawline. “Just do it. Just do it.” They weren’t sure why they were repeating that. Honestly it wasn’t making this much better. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything else to my ankle unless I can absolutely see no other option.” They were joking of course. “There doesn’t seem like there’s anything around, let’s just get in and out.” They moved off from their hiding spot, slipping down the beach as silently as they could. Unaware of anything else there as of yet. They hoped that wasn’t just about to change. “How close do you want to get?” they asked Blanche, adjusting their glasses to sit more comfortably on their face.

“As god as my witness, if you hurt your ankle again, I will - “ Blanche was going to say kill you but that somehow didn’t seem appropriate. She dropped down onto the frozen sand and looked at them. “ - I’ll - don’t hurt your ankle again, I can’t pick you up and then I’ll have to call 9-1-1 and then the police and firemen are going to show up and it’s going to really not end well.” Or maybe she was getting ahead of herself and needed to chill out. Blanche’s palms were were starting to get sweaty, and she rubbed them on her thighs anxiously, glancing out at the chest. “I dunno, 10 feet, maybe? You think that’s too close? My iphone has a great camera and can zoom.” Maybe, after all this was over, she should invest in an actual camera. Funnily enough, it was going to be easier to get a gun rather than get a camera. “C’mon. Let’s get this over with - you’ll hear the clicking.” Blanche glanced at them, before patting them on the shoulder and strode forward. Cece had let her lead the way, and she did, so she was going to just… just do it again! Perfect.

“I promise that I will do everything that I possibly can to avoid injuring my ankle again, because I don’t want to be hobbling around on a busted leg when giant crustaceans called Karkinoids try and cut me in two.” Maybe Winston was being dramatic, but they didn’t feel like they were being dramatic. “At least we’ll probably have some signal here, after all, this is a beach right. Why wouldn’t you get signal at the beach?” Winston was almost too afraid to look at their phone at this point. They considered how close too close really was. Honestly, Winston thought that they were too close right now, but they weren’t about to chicken out in front of Blanche after they had been the one that had insisted that she couldn’t possibly go on her own. “I can deal with ten feet I think,” Winston replied after chewing their cheeks for a second, “let’s go,” they agreed as they set off again across the beach. They followed after Blanche, craning their neck for crabs or lobsters or anything with claws.

Blanche snorted. After this was over, she was going to have to tell Winston they were funny. Because they were - especially in the face of danger. That had to count for something. Maybe a merit badge for facing adversity. “We have signal, I looked before I jumped down here,” Blanche assured them. At least, she had signal. She wouldn’t know about their stupid andriod phone. They moved down the beach, inching closer and closer to the chest. Her heart was pounding hard in her ears, but she decided that she didn’t care. She wasn’t afraid of anything! If she wasn’t afraid of anything than some stupid lobster wasn’t going to prevent her from doing what she wanted. Fuck that! It was easier to go on a tangent in her head than it was to actually follow it. Surprisingly enough, they’d gotten pretty far before the fucking clicking started and she went rigid on the spot. Blanche cursed quietly, stuffing her hand in her pocket and pulling out her phone, shoving it to Winston. “Take the photos, I’ll spray the stupid things and see if it gets them to back off. They like to eat each other once one is dead,” Blanche said, quickly - she didn’t know if anything she said had come out clearly because she was talking very, very quickly. Low and behold, there were the crabs. Lobsters. Karkinoids. Whatevers. There was only a couple, thank god. But who knew where the others were. Blanche had her mace out and had it pointed in the right direction and sprayed. Better melt them now before they got too close. The unfortunately familiar smell of burning burning lobster filled her nose. “Don’t forget to focus the camera!” She called, eyes darting around the beach for more crustaceans.

“Ok, good, because although I’m not sure what a cop would do against a massive armoured crab, I do know that I’ll feel much better risking my life if there’s someone to yeet me out if you get my meaning.” Winston wondered how many cops had seen these things, why was it that none of these things were ever discussed? Why had they never realised how dangerous a place they were living in until now. If none of the last few weeks had happened, would they have continued living in denial indefinitely? As they crept closer and closer, they couldn’t help but keep their ears pricked. They could hear the clicking as they got close. They were about to complain that they were the one taking the photos when they realised that this meant that they weren’t going to have to be dealing with the crab things. Winston fumbled with their phone, pulling up the camera that they knew was supposed to be superior to an iPhone camera although at this moment it was taking way too long to focus. Sprinting closer, they tried to be quick, they didn’t want Blanche to get hurt because they were too slow. Their hand shaking, Winston tried to take a deep breath, before snapping several shots of the chest. “How many of these do you want?” they shouted Blanche’s way.

Ewwww. She’d been right in saying that they would eat each other because now that’s exactly what the other one was doing. Blanche wrinkled her nose, keeping careful watch as she turned her head to check on Winston briefly. “Take pictures of each side of the chest. And one from above, too! And don’t touch it!” Blanche didn’t think the warning to Winston was completely needed at all, but it never hurt. She crept closer to the crab that was still alive and clicking, before it’s head snapped up to look at her and she sprayed it in the face. Blanche realized she was certainly not fucking around. The thing twitched and wailed slightly before falling down dead. “Gross, gross, gross!” She mumbled, making a face before looking for more of its brethren that she could take out. Figuring Winston was done with the photos, she called out to them. “Alright, c’mere. Before the rest of the Krusty Krew get here. I need the axe, I want a claw.” she nudged one of them with her foot. Onces face had completely dissolved because of Cece’s acid, but the other one… It might work.

Winston sprung into action, circling around the chest taking photos from each side. They could thank their lucky stars that they were relatively tall and therefore easily able to lean over and take photos of the chest. It occurred to them in that very moment that they could’ve simply placed a camera on one of the drones that they had back at the house and done this with that. Apparently they were an idiot. Not allowing themselves to have time to regret their foolishness however, Winston dashed away from the chest a few moments after snapping their final photos. “I think I’ve got enough,” they said, slightly out of breath but surprised that their fitness had improved a little, maybe running for their life would actually have some long term benefits. As they arrived by Blanche’s side, they raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you joking?” they asked, knowing full well that she wasn’t. They gave her a look, before sighing and handing them the axe. “Fine, just hurry up before more of them find us.”

Blanche hoped they were right, but knew that she had to trust them. They definitely knew how to take photos on an iphone. Maybe she was just nervous. Blanche shook her worry off and shot them an equally withering look until they handed her the axe. “I need proof for Regan,” she said flatly. She did make it snappy, though. Deciding last moment that a claw was going to be too much of a bitch and a half to carry back (and heavy), Blanche went for the head. Or well, she stopped before she swung the axe, looking back at Winston. “... Don’t watch me chop off its head.” She mumbled, before waiting a moment, and swinging the axe. Gross. Gross. Gross. Her stomach churned, “ Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew.” Blanche shuddered slightly, before handing the axe back, before unzipping her jacket, shrugging it off, and collecting the now fallen head in it. Glad she had worn a sweater, she stood, looking up and down the beach. “Do you want to make a run for it back?” Blanche asked, flatly. “Before more of them decide to pop up and try to snap us in half?”

Winston had to admit that the last thing they expected was for all of this to go this well. Though they had been unfortunate enough as to run into Karkinoids, it seemed as if Blanche had been able to deal with them and as they handed their axe over, Winston had to admit there was a gentle sense of awe. “I don’t know who that is but if you need proof then this is probably a pretty sure fire way, although y’know, the denial can be strong. They were watching eagerly when Blanche protested, and with a groan of protest turned their back on the butchery that was taking place. Once Blanche was ready, they nodded. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” They set off towards the car, glad that this had gone so well. Things could be worse.

“If she doesn’t believe me after me bringing her a giant Karkinoid head, I’m projectiling myself off the first cliff I see.” Blanche said, absolutely being dramatic. No one was dead, and they had a lobster head. Hah, Blanche thought, that rhymed. Pleased with the outcome of events, Blanche took off after Winston, trying not to slip and slide on the frozen sand. After all this was over and winter left, Blanche was going to spend a nice day on the beach, alone, and get a tan. No lobsters, no crabs, just one normal day in the fucking - was that more clicking? Blanche glanced over her shoulder. More crab,s but more interested in the caracusses of their fallen friends than them, for the moment. “Gogogo! Before they notice us and King Louis’ head!” Blanche hissed. They slid up to the rocks. “Do you need a boost?” Blanche asked, kindly, as Remmy had done the same for her and Cece the last time they were here.

“Ah yes suicide, the only rational answer to irrational morons who refuse to see the truth.” Winston was sore, sweaty and out of breath. They had been far too close to lobsters for their liking and now they were in the presence of one of their heads. This day was truly turning out to be memorable. As more crabs arrived, Winston moved faster to the rocks and shook their head. “I think I’m tall enough to reach up on my own, I’ll boost you first and then you can help pull me up.” They didn’t give her anytime to argue, they weren’t about to start messing about with those lobsters again and they needed to get out of their quickly before the smell of one of the karkinoids dead brethren attracted some foes.

With no time to argue or say anything sarcastic - because she would have. Probably something giraffe related - Blanche let Winston help boost her up and once again scrambled to the safety of the small cliff. Dumping the head wrapped in her jacket onto the ground, she turned and reached a hand down to help them up. Once the both of them were safely away from where any Karkinoid could get them, Blanche let out a giant sigh of relief. “Holy shit -” She looked at Winston. “- That just worked! We did it! No one lost a limb! Or rolled an ankle!” Blanche pointed to their ankle, maybe a little too excited over the fact that neither of them died or got maimed. She bent, scooped up the lobster head and grabbed her keys to unlock her car and dump the head in the trunk. “Karkinoids my ass.”

#p: blanche #para #wickedswriting #suicide cw #baywatch

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writing-essence · 6 years ago

Text

Switch Flipped - Sweet Pea

Chapter One: Glory and Gore

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Andrews!Reader, Reggie Mantle x Andrews!Reader

Warnings: Riverdale being wack 🤷🏻‍♀️

Summary: After your dad was shot by the black hood Archie has gone off the deep end, little did you expect yourself to question your northside loyalties

Author’s Note: Slow burn with Sweet Pea. Slight relationship with Reggie. It’s a bit of set up, but I promise it’ll pick up in part two! Heavily inspired by Lorde’s discography. Written by Milla

Word Count: 1581

Life in Riverdale had always been simple. Listen to your brother, keep up your grades, avoid the southside. It was comfortable and cozy, seemingly a suburban utopia. That shifted when your mother had separated and moved to Chicago. You were always close to your mom. While Fred Andrews loved both his children more than any man had ever loved anything, sports, cars, and construction were his strong suit. Girl talk or anything of the sort was not. He fumbled and was clumsy, leading you to save any rants of the trials and tribulations of adolescence to your mom.

The summer before freshman year you stayed with her in Chicago for a month. Your world became bigger than when you had left Riverdale. No longer did the isolated ideals make sense. You began to question the town's inner workings and couldn't wait until you could get out and stay in Chicago permanently. But until then might as well make the best of it.

Freshman year was a breeze. Your best friend Midge convinced you to go on a double date with her, Moose, and his best friend, Reggie. While at first, you detested being anywhere near the womanizer football player, Midge made a convincing case. The four of you became inseparable and finally instead of tagging along behind Archie you had your own group of friends. You thought that sophomore year would continue this trend of light-hearted parties and vanilla teenage rebellion. Then Jason Blossom's murder took the town by storm and flipped it upside down. Everyone had secrets no one was innocent. Even Archie, who had never told a white lie in his life was harboring a lifetime worth secrets.

That brings us to November. A couple weeks had passed after your dad was shot. The entire town was on edge. Nobody felt safe. The peppy paradise facade Riverdale had curated was fading along Sweetwater river where it had all began. Archie had always been protective of you. You were his younger sister, although not young enough to be in different grades. The Archie that ran out of the bathroom at Pop's into the bloodshed wasn't the Archie you had grown up with. You excused it as PTSD, god knows you had some too.

Once the Black Hood was caught, it would all be over. You wouldn't have to look over your shoulder on this bike ride back home from Midge's house. The setting sun in front of you would once again radiate beauty instead of being an omen of darkness. You would've asked Reggie to give you a ride home, but you were too proud.

After Jason's murder, Reggie was a mess. He dragged the rest of your fantastic foursome to every party he could find all the way to Centerdale. Maybe if you hadn't been nursing a hangover every day, you could've seen the tangled mess Archie and his friends were getting themselves into. You convinced Reggie to get his act together, it was his Junior year after all. Apparently, the sentiment hadn't stuck. He was the one who gave Moose and Midge the jingle jangle that nearly got them killed. This wasn't a matter of staying sober to study for the SATs. This was a matter of keeping your loved ones out of harm's way.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost hadn't noticed the hoard of leather-clad teenagers charging towards your house. They had barely started up the walkway when you threw your bike on the front lawn.

"Hey!" You let out. The group of boys turned towards your outburst. Okay, maybe you hadn't thought this through. Taking hesitant steps towards them, you noticed the snakes that adorned their bodies and jackets. Great now you've antagonized not only a group of angry boys but a group of angry gang members. "What the hell are you doing?"

The tallest boy at the front of the group scrunched his eyebrows and cocked his head giving you a view of the serpent along his neck. "What's it to you Northsider?"

"I uh, I live here," you gulped. "This is my house." The boy's smug expression turned to confusion, and he looked to the rest of the group. He whispered something to a shorter boy with brown eyes which resembled that of a golden retriever. The shorter boy shook his head.

"You sure about that princess?" The larger boy asked with his arms crossed. You meekly nodded your head yes. Before he could say anything else a blonde guy from the back of the formation interrupted.

"Forget her! Let's show this red circle douche bag who's in charge!" Before the others erupted in cheering the two brown eyed boys in front shushed them.

Then it hit you. They must've seen that stupid testosterone filled video. "Wait, red circle? You mean Archie?" You asked.

"You know him?" Neck tattoo boy glanced again to the boy on his right before his eyes drifted back to mine.

"Uh well yeah," you mused, "He's my brother." After your dad was shot he's been on edge. You knew he hadn't been sleeping because your dog, Vegas, migrated to your room these past few nights. What could Archie have done to piss off a group of Southside Serpents? This couldn't all be because of that video. You've never been a fan of violence, and that video took it too far. Archie wasn't capable of anything he said in those two minutes. The boys in front of you thought otherwise. "Look whatever he said, I'm sorry. I don't want any trouble," you crossed your arms and attempted to get to the front porch, but what the dark boy said next made you stop in your tracks.

"That's funny neither did we when your brother vandalized our turf with his red circle agenda and waved a gun in my face," he responded. mumbling affirmation came from behind him.

"No...no look Archie's been through a lot but he wouldn't do something like that,” you shook your head turning back to him.

“Really?” His head returned to a smug tilt, “why don't you ask him yourself?”

Your breath quickened as you continued to the front door. Taking a final glance at the grumbling gang behind you, you knocked on the door. Archie opened it swiftly with Veronica at his side. Confused looks skirt their faces as to why you would knock on your own house but quickly fade as their eyes trail to the group behind you. “Make some new friends Archie?”

The next few minutes became a blur. You ended up near the side of the stairs next to Reggie, sandwiched by another bulldog. Why they were at your house? You had no idea or any energy to question it. This couldn’t be happening. Through the barks of bulldogs and hisses of serpents, you make out a few key phrases consisting of fight, gun, and rules.

“Are you guys serious? Are you actually suggesting a West Side Story jets versus sharks rumble?” Archie and Veronica’s eyes fall back to your outburst. Were they even listening to themselves, it was barbaric. After everything, the black hood has done. All of the pain he’s caused and this is their solution? More danger?

“A fair fight princess,” the tall serpent breaks the momentary silence.

The warmth from your side quickly disappeared as Reggie charged towards him. Grabbing his hand, you attempt to pull him back with little success. “I don’t know ‘bout that. Bulldogs eat serpents for lunch!”

“Reggie!” You swore you were gripping to his hand so tight it might pop off. The two rival groups of teens continued their terms and conditions. This was Archie’s business. As much as you love your brother you knew his actions would have consequences. If he wanted to start a turf war with the serpents, it’s his choice, but you were not about to let your hot-headed boyfriend make even more mistakes. The serpents slithered off your front yard with a pack of bulldogs following close behind. Your hand was still clutched onto Reggie’s as he turned back to you.

“Stay here with Veronica,” his tone softened significantly from the yelling match earlier, “we’ll take care of it.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you pulled your hand back. “Take care of what Reggie? Archie made a dumb decision, it doesn’t mean you have to follow him off a cliff!”

Veronica sensed the oncoming storm of a domestic dispute and disappeared into the kitchen. This was it. You and Reggie had been through a lot, and you knew he was better than this. He knew he was on thin ice after lying about his fleeting sobriety and that encouraging war with the serpents would not go in his favor.

“Reggie if you step out that door,” you stop yourself unsure about what you’ll say next. “I can’t be with you anymore.”

Reggie’s mouth dropped slightly as he tried to find what to say, “Y/N-,” he stopped himself, shaking his head towards the floor. “I’m sorry.”

With two words and a shrug, he was gone. You let the burning tears behind your eyes fall across your cheeks.

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #riverdale #reggie mantle #reggie mantle imagine #reggie mantle x reader #riverdale imagine #riverdale series #sweet pea series

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hexalt · 6 years ago

Photo

oh my god i think i like you

- you're pretty & smart & ignoring me so obviously you're my type. - i won't forget, i won't regret this beautiful, heart stopping, breathtaking, life-changing... - hey. you're the love of my life. you know that, right?

a rebecca bunch x greg serrano mega mix from season 1 to season 4, so there's A LOT OF MOODS. prepare to laugh, cry, and dance. cover completely inspired by cordeliafoxxy's mix fanmix challenge - ix. fictional relationships (groups, family, friendship, otp, etc.)

[ spotify | 8tracks (incomplete) ]

falling for the first time - barenaked ladies I'm so cool, too bad I'm a loser / I'm so smart, too bad I can't get anything figured out / I'm so sane, it's drivin' me crazy / It's so strange, I can't believe it feels just like I'm falling for the first time

i’m not gonna teach your boyfriend how to dance - black kids I'm not gonna teach him how to dance / The second I do, I know we're gonna be through / I'm not gonna teach him how to dance with you / He don't suspect a thing / I wish he'd get a clue / I'm not gonna teach him how to dance to with you

bartender - regina spektor Come on, bartender / You have got to kick me back out / Into the cold and nasty weather / And maybe if I sober up / I will stop / Pretending that love is forever / Come on, bartender / Love will be the death of me / Love is so fickle / It starts with a flood and it ends with a trickle

closing time - semisonic Closing time / One last call for alcohol so finish your whiskey or beer / Closing time / You don't have to go home but you can't stay here / I know who I want to take me home

settle for me - santino fontana Yes, Josh is a dream, but I’m right here / In flesh and blood and self-hate / Settle for me / In a sad way, darling, it’s fate

settle for me (reprise) - rachel bloom Why not just settle for him? / He's a nice, smart guy / And he and I / Do get along... / Well, kind of.

i really want you to hate me - meg myers I really want you to hate me / I really want you to find / That I am bitter and angry / That I'm the ugliest girl / And I will never be a bride / There's no love for the wicked / There's no love and / I wanna die

self esteem - the offspring I wrote her off for the tenth time today / And practiced all the things I would say / But she came over / I lost my nerve / I took her back and made her dessert / Now I know I'm being used / That's okay because I like the abuse / I know she's playing with me / That's okay 'cause I've got no self-esteem

feels like we only go backwards - tame impala I've got my hopes up again, oh no, not again / It feels like we only go backwards, darlin' / The seed of all this indecision isn't me / 'Cause I decided long ago / But that's the way it seems to go / When trying so hard to get to something real

shadowboxer - fiona apple I was on to every play / I just wanted you / But oh, it's so evil, my love, the way you've no / Reverence to my concern / So I'll be sure to stay wary of you, love / To save the pain of once my flame and twice my burn

happier - a fine frenzy Quick kid quick, so harsh and cynical / It's not the words that make it final / You've said such things before to rival them / But it's how you say 'em now that's changed / Cold but sympathetic all the same / Lie to convince me that I'll be better off / Oh, you go on and I'll be happier

tired - adele I'm tired of trying / Your teasing ain't enough / Fed up of biding your time / When I don't get nothing back / I get closer, you obviously prefer him

it’s you - zayn She got / Her own reasons / For talking to me / And she don't, she don't, she don't / Give a fuck about what I need / And I can't tell you why / Because my brain can't equate it / Tell me your lies / Because I just can't face it

the writing’s on the wall - ok go It seems like forever / Since we had a good day / The writing's on the wall / But I just want to get you high tonight / I just want to see some pleasure in your eyes / And I go too high, and you go too cold then we both fall apart / Then you bring your mind, to rest against mine / But the mind has no say on affairs of the heart

tear you apart - she wants revenge Either way he wanted her and this was bad / He wanted to do things to her it was making him crazy / Now a little crush turned into a like / And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her, / "I want to hold you close / Soft breasts, beating heart / As I whisper in your ear / I want to fucking tear you apart"

i gave you a uti - santino fontana One night with me is pure ecstasy / 'Cause I know just what you like / But you should know for a week or so / You won't be able to ride a bike / I gave you a UTI

oh my god i think i like you - rachel bloom I say, "No no no! This is just about sex!" / And "No no no! Don't be such a girl, Becks!" / But then I feel the oxytocin creeping back to my brain / And all I can do is sing it again / Oh my god, I think I like you

everything is embarrassing - sky ferreira Maybe if you let me be your lover / Maybe if you tried, then I would not bother / I've been hating everything, everything that could have been / Could have been my anything, now everything's embarrassing

like a friend - pulp I had one, two, three / Four shots of happiness, I look like a big man / But I've only got a little soul / I wish I could be an example / Wish I could say I stood up for you / And fought for what was right / But I never did / I did what was wrong though I knew what was right / I've got no wisdom that I want to pass on

slow disco - st. vincent There's blood in my ears / And a fool in the mirror / And the pain of mistakes couldn't get any clearer / Am I thinking what everybody's thinkin'? / I'm so glad I came, but I can't wait to leave / Slip my hand from your hand / Leave you dancin' with a ghost

about a girl - the academy is... Last night I knew what to say / But you weren't there to hear it / These lines so well rehearsed / Tongue-tied and overloaded / You never noticed / I'm not in love / This is not my heart / I'm not gonna waste these words / About a girl

twice - little dragon Twice I turn my back on you / I fell flat on my face but didn't lose / Tell me what led you on, I'd love to know / Was it both men / Thought I had an answer once / But your random ways swept me along

knife - grizzly bear I want you to know / When I look in your eyes / With every blow / Comes another lie / You think it's alright / Can't you feel the knife?

still - foo fighters Bring some change up to the bridge / Bring some alcohol / There we'll make a final wish / Just before the fall / Promise I will be forever yours / Promise not to say another word

false alarm - the head and the heart Visions of you dance through my head / Dark heroine of the books I have read / Pages torn out, I made up my own world / Deep in the dream, it's all built to last / You'll pull the plug, drain me down fast / So many stones, stuck in my shoes / And I know if there's enough / It could make up a road / That could lead me far from this town

georgia - vance joy She is something to behold / Elegant and bold / She is electricity / Running to my soul / And I could easily lose my mind / The way you kiss me will work each time / Calling me to come back to bed / Singing Georgia on my mind

anyone who knows what love is (will understand) - irma thomas You can blame me / Try to shame me / And still I'll care for you / You can run around / Even put me down / Still I'll be there for you / The world / May think I'm foolish / They can't see you / Like I can / Oh but anyone / Who knows what love is / Will understand

i wanna get better - bleachers I didn’t know I was lonely 'til I saw your face / I wanna get better / I didn't know I was broken 'til i wanted to change / I wanna get better

it was a shit show - santino fontana We can't undo, can't make amends / Dysfunction is our lingua franca / When you say that I should stay / That's exactly when I should split / Though I won't forget, I won't regret / This beautiful, heart stopping / Breathtaking, life-changing...!

vertigo - anya marina The song you sing is sentimental / The song you sing is making me well / I like it, like it, outta control / The song you sing gives me vertigo / I was singing to myself / Pretending you were there

santa monica dream - angus & julia stone I'm singing songs about the future / Wondering where you are / I could call you on the telephone / But do I really want to know? / You're making love now to the lady down the road / No I don't, I don't want to know / I'm somewhere, you're somewhere / I'm nowhere, you're nowhere / You're somewhere, you're somewhere / I could go there but I don't

weary blues - madeleine peyroux Lord knows it died the day you left / My dream world fell apart / Weary blues from waitin' / Lord, I've been waitin' so long / These blues have got me cryin' / Oh, sweet daddy please come home

love is a losing game - amy winehouse Love is losing game / One I wished, I never played / Oh, what a mess we made / And now the final frame

hello, nice to meet you - rachel bloom & skyler astin Pleased to make your acquaintance, stranger / I've spent many years processing my anger / Wouldn't know what to say to the person I knew / But it's nice to meet you

enchanted - taylor swift All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you / This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go / I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

505 - arctic monkeys I'm going back to 505 / If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive / In my imagination you're waiting, lying on your side / With your hands between your thighs / But I crumble completely when you cry / It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye

forget forgive - someone Bad thoughts pushing at the neck / Puts pressure on the chest / Calm sorrow / Forget / Forgive

warning sign - coldplay I’ve gotta tell you what a state I’m in / I’ve gotta tell you in my loudest tones / That I started looking for a warning sign / When the truth is, I miss you

fine with me - rizzle kicks Spit out the bitter when life isn't sweet, yeah / That's fine with me, fine with me / Just for today, if nothing goes my way, well / That's fine with me, fine with me / 'Cause I'm in the place / Where nothing could happen / To the smile on my face

warm body - cafune Give me all your heartaches and I'll push them down the drain / There's no need for voices that aren't singing this refrain / Say all you want, just stay / You just need a warm body / I'll be your install, I just need your warm body / Everybody knows, they just need to talk about it / Stay this way, hit replay

stop desire - tegan and sara I can't deny I'm begging for attention / Dropping hints, hoping for some tension / Getting tired of making all this racket / Waiting on you to get your ass in gear / I didn't wanna be so invested / I played it cool and then I overdressed it / Get me, feel me, want me / Like me, love me, need me

she’s so high - tal bachman First class and fancy-free, she's high society / She's got the best of everything / What could a guy like me ever really offer? / She's perfect as she can be, why should I even bother? / 'Cause, she's so high, high above me / She's so lovely

i really like you - carly rae jepsen I need to tell you something / I really, really, really, really, really, really like you / And I want you, do you want me, do you want me too?

sweet - little dragon Sweet, that feeling when you know you're hooked and you can't get enough / Sweet, that feeling when you're skating down the avenue of love / Sweet, I was checking on your phone because this sweetness is drugs / Sweet, can't get enough, not giving up

i hate everything but you - skyler astin I hate the phrase "Love conquers all," and I hate that it's true / 'Cause I want to not hate things when I'm with you / You love so many things and you have so much fun / It makes me wish my hating days were done

love natural - crystal fighters It's almost midnight, the time is coming up / The time is getting closer, the time is almost here / Life is upon us and the time for love is here and now / When I look at you, oh I feel my heart / Oh, I feel your love deep inside

do it again - santino fontana My lips just ache to have you take the kiss that's waiting for you / You know if you do, you won't regret it, come and get it / Do it again, please do it again

the sword & the pen - regina spektor Don't let me out of this kiss / Don't let me say what I say / The things that scare us today / What if they happen someday / Don't let me out of your arms / For now / I don't want to live without you

sea of love - cat power Do you remember / When we met / That's the day / I knew you were my pet / I wanna tell you / How much / I love you

#crazy ex girlfriend #greg serrano #rebecca bunch #cxg #cxgf #grebecca #playlist #greg x rebecca #fanmix #music #fanmix challenge #mine #*

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kissmekissme-calum · 6 years ago

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Falling For My Best Friend - Fangs Fogarty Imagine

Requested : YES! I was so happy to get this request and i’m loving how it turned out!

Anonymous asked : Can I request a Riverdale imagine where the reader has a crush on Sweet Pea, Jughead convinces the reader to tell him and when she does, he says he doesn't feel the same. So, Fangs tries to make her feel better, they spend more time together and end up crushing on each other. Then Pea gets jealous because he realizes he wants that with the reader. Please and thank you!

This will get another part if people want it! I had so much fun writing this, reblog/like if you like it. also let me know what you want to happen and i may include it! :)

Word Count : 2.6K

Pairings : Fangs x Reader (mainly) Sweet Pea x Reader (for a split second)

Warnings: None that i can really think of, maybe jealous and angry sweet pea?

“So, you expect me to just walk up to him and tell him, Jug?” you let your eyes slide over and scrutinize his features. “This is going to end badly, I just know it. He’s been my friend for years, if I say anything to him about me liking him, it’s probably going to ruin everything that we have.”

Jug shook his head, readjusting his beanie as he gave you a shove towards the taller serpent at the bar talking to Toni and Fangs. “You won’t know until you try, (YN). We’re all serpents here, we’re not afraid of things like that.”

That did nothing to comfort you, but he was right about not knowing until you tried. It was now or never and as Sweet Pea stood at the bar laughing at some joke Fangs was telling, his eyes crinkling from his laughter. You couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat at the sight, the things that boy did to you, it wasn’t the feeling of a friend, no it was so much more.

For one of you it was anyways.

Setting your coke down in front of Jug, you stood, giving him one last look to which he gave you an encouraging nod, you pushed your feet to move in front of the other towards the bar and the laughing serpents.

When they noticed you joining them, Sweet Pea’s grin grew and he put an arm around your shoulder. “Hey there, (YN), how are ya?” His voice was loud, the alcohol he’d consumed clearly taking over his senses. “Did you miss us?”

You giggled and snuggled closer to him. “You know I always miss you, Pea. Whenever you’re not around, I’m always asking where you are.”

Toni smirked behind the bar counter. “It gets a little annoying to be honest, if I didn’t know better, I’d think that you had a thing for him, (YN).” She sent you a wink. “We don’t mind it though, do we Pea?” You blushed at her words and shook your head, not looking up to meet the gaze of the serpent holding you.

Sweet Pea only tensed up and removed his arm from around your frame before taking a step away from you. “Um, this isn’t where I thought this was going to go.” His gaze traveled down to your small frame as you remained frozen in the spot he’d left you only a moment ago. “(YN)’s my friend, one of my closest friends, I’ve never seen her as anything more than that.”

As he spoke, tears began to prick at your eyes, you began to sway slightly. Fangs stood from his barstool and put a hand on your hip to hold you still. You didn’t even have to say the words out loud before Pea shot you down. Toni’s eyes had widened behind the bar counter, she couldn’t believe Sweet Pea, she’d heard him say that he liked you a lot, she didn’t know what had changed.

Jughead watched in slight horror at the scene that was unfolding in front of him, the hurt in your features, it broke his heart and it was all because he pushed for you to express your feelings to Sweet Pea. He should have just listened to you and let you go for it if and when it felt right to you. He couldn’t help the guilty feeling that now rested in his stomach.

The feeling in the bar had quickly changed, what was once a fun atmosphere full of jokes and laughs now felt so tense and awkward, you could cut the tension with a knife. The bar was now silent, and you couldn’t stay in here anymore, you put your hands up and began to walk away.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, Pea, I’m so sorry.” The tears were pricking harder at the corners of your eyes, so you made a full run for it out into the cold night air.

Once outside the bar you fell to your knees in the gravel, wincing as they ground into your bare knees, but the pain you felt from the gravel was nothing compared to the crushing feeling inside of your chest. It was one thing to have suspicions that Sweet Pea didn’t feel the same for you as you did for him, it was another thing to hear the words come out of his mouth. It was like he sobered up as Toni spoke the words into existence.

As if your night could not get any worse, rain started to fall, slowly at first before turning into an all out pour. The water soaked into your clothes, earning multiple shivers from you but the feeling didn’t last long as you soon felt something get placed around your arms. Turning your head to the side, you noticed a leather jacket was wrapped around your shoulders, you gripped the sides of the jacket and tightened it around your frame before looking up at the person who would always be there to look out and protect you.

Fangs.

He gazed down at you sadly before he helped you stand and brought you over to his bike, placing his helmet on your head, getting on before helping you on behind him. “Hold tight.” He simply said and you nodded as he sped his bike away in the pouring rain. You didn’t know where he was taking you and you didn’t bother to ask, it was going to be no use anyways. When Fangs decided that he was going to make you feel better, he didn’t like it when you asked questions, he just liked to surprise you, saying that the surprise would add to the making you feel better thing.

It wasn’t long until you arrived back at his trailer. Fangs turned the bike off before helping you off and leading you inside of his trailer. Once inside, he left you in the living room before running off to his room and coming back with a hoodie and sweat pants and placing them into your arms. “Go take a shower, take as long as you need. I’ll be out here when you’re done.”

You could only manage a small nod in response as you made your way down the familiar hall and into the bathroom. Turning the shower to the hottest it would go, you slowly undressed and stepped under the scorching water, letting it soak into your body, letting it wash away the past hours’ events. This wasn’t the first time that you stood in Fangs’ shower after going through a hard time, Fangs was always the one to help pick you up and put you back together.

While you were in the shower, Fangs paced the living room, his hands finding their way to cup around his mouth before fiddling with his hair. He hated seeing you hurt, especially when the hurt was caused by one of your closest friends. He knew Sweet Pea didn’t really mean what he’d said, that the alcohol and the surprise of the conversation struck him and sent him into a panic, but either way, Sweet Pea had hurt you and it broke Fangs’ heart to see that.

He had your favorite movie waiting to play along with a blanket of his that you always stole when you found your way to his place and some hot chocolate even if it was still quite warm outside, he knew you were a girl who could drink hot chocolate anytime and anywhere, that thought alone was enough to make him smile, you really were quite the girl.

Fangs was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice you’d finally finished with your shower and had made your way to the living room. You saw what he did and you spun around in a circle, taking it all in before walking over to him from behind and wrapping your arms around his waist.

Fangs’ breath hitched in his throat at the contact, when you held him, you’d somehow lifted the edge of his shirt up and your bare arm was touching his bare stomach. There was this strange electrifying feeling that coursed through his veins, he could barely move as he wanted to live in this moment for a lifetime, he only hoped that you felt the same connection he did.

And you did. At touching his bare skin, your eyes shot open at the sensation. It was an overwhelming feeling but you shook your head, this couldn’t be real, Fangs was only a friend to you, you’d never felt anything stronger towards him before. Slowly unwinding your arms from his waist, neither of you had spoken a word yet, even as he turned around and put a hand on your arm and leading you to the couch. When he’d set you down, his dark eyes never left you even as he tucked you into your favorite blanket, both of you giggling slightly at his actions.

“You don’t have to take care of me this time, Fangs, I was stupid to think that Sweets would ever feel that way towards anyone, let alone me.” Your eyes turned down away from Fangs’ sweet ones that scoured over you.

“(YN), I will always take care of you, I love taking care of you.” He stood and walked over to his tv before smiling at you. “Now, relax and forget about what happened and enjoy your favorite movie as if it’s the first time you watched it.”

“I can recite this movie, word for word.” You smirk as Fangs joined you before hitting play and handing you a hot chocolate.

“I know, now sit back and watch. I love seeing that smile on your face and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it on your face.”

“Thank you.” You whispered and snuggled into his side as the movie began to play. As you snuggled into his side, you couldn’t help but continue to smile wide as you were now experiencing a totally new feeling towards the man you were cuddling with and you were okay with that feeling.

It had been a week since the incident with Pea and things were still quite awkward between the two of you, but you barely paid it any attention since your focus was on a different serpent who made you feel things you thought you’d felt before but were only now truly experiencing.

You sat at the bar with Toni when Fangs walked in, a huge grin adorning his face as he ran over to you and wrapped his arms tight around you, kissing your cheeks and tickling your sides earning loud and honest giggles from you. Everyone in the bar had noticed the change between the two of you and to be quite honest they were glad that it was finally happening, for the longest time everyone else had always secretly hoped that the two of you would end up together.

Now, you and Fangs werent’ exactly a couple, as you were still friends but you two were getting closer and new and intense feelings were starting to bubble up to the surface for all to see.

Toni grinned at the two of you, nodding at Fangs after he let go of you and went over to play a game of pool with Sweet Pea and a couple of other serpents. She watched as your eyes followed Fangs over the pool table, she saw the smile on your face grow wider and a slight blush tinting your cheeks. “(YN).” No response. “(YN)!” she snapped and you ripped your gaze from the shorter serpent before focusing on the pink haired girl. When Toni finally scored your attention back she had a huge grin of her own on her face that replicated yours. “What is up with you and Fangs? Ever since what happened last week with you and Sweet Pea, you and Fangs have been practically attached to the hip.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Are you developing feelings for him?”

Your blush felt like it was about to cover your entire body, you couldn’t meet Toni’s gaze. “Maybe…” you whispered, trailing off. “I thought that this is how I felt about Pea, but, with Fangs I see that whatever I felt before, it wasn’t what I thought it was. How did I not see this in Fangs before, Topaz? How?”

Jughead had made his way to the two of you, having caught the last bit of your sentence. “We all caught on forever ago, just waiting for you two to put the pieces together.”

You cut your gaze to him. “You’re the one who told me to talk to Pea, Jones, that says the opposite of what you just said.”

Jug sighed. “I said that because I thought that’s what you wanted. What we want and what you want were and are two different things. Whatever you want, we’ll support which is what I did even though I shouldn’t have.”

Fangs and Sweet Pea had just wrapped their match up, another win for the best pool players the White Wyrm had ever seen before. Even with a sweet victory added to his belt, Sweet Pea couldn’t help but look at his friends in a different way. Since the week before, he’d begun to look at you in a different way. The way you smiled, the way you laughed, the way you walked, whatever you chose to wear, it made him tingle but he knew that he shouldn’t have that tingling feeling, he knew you weren’t doing it for him. You were doing it for the serpent next to him. He saw the way Fangs had come into the bar and held you, saw you laughing and smiling, a true laugh and a true smile, something he’d never seen from you before. It kind of hurt that he wasn’t the cause of it, but he was in no position to be mad about that, it’s because of him that Fangs was the cause of it. He saw how the two of you looked at each other, saw the way you were comfortable with each other.

Sweet Pea couldn’t take it anymore. The pool stick in his hands soon became two separate sticks as Fangs had made his way back to you, a coke in his hand as he grinned at you and Jughead while Toni shook her head behind the bar. He had a chance, and he lost it. He threw the separate pieces to the ground and gruffly exited the bar behind you guys.

The four of you stared at the door that Sweet Pea just exited.

“What was that about?” you ask as you placed your hand on Fangs’, his other wrapping around your waist, holding you close to his chest. “Is he okay?”

Fangs shook his head, placing a kiss to the top of your head, he knew when Sweet Pea got jealous and he was witnessing it now. “Doesn’t matter.” He softly spoke sharing a look with Toni. Sweet Pea had every opportunity to get you and he never went for it and now that you and Fangs were getting closer and feelings were beginning to be felt, he wasn’t going to let you go. “He’ll get over it.”

#riverdale #riverdale imagines #riverdale imagine #imagines #imagine #fangs imagines #fangs imagine #fangs fogarty imagines #fangs fogarty imagine #fangs fogarty x reader #sweet pea imagines #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #kissmekissme-ashton

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ramheavenandhell · 6 years ago

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Rick and Morty Forever and One Hundred Years – Chapter 5: Saving or Ruining the Evening

AN: Would you look at that! It's an update! And this time it didn't took me years. On another note, I finally finished the basic outline for this story, so I finally have a plan where to go with this. The bad news is that my muse got hyped over a different high school AU now, so prepare that that will be a thing in the future -_-' Warnings: Rick/Morty, a tiny bit Morty/Jessica, still slow burn (but we're getting a few moments in this one)

Rick and Morty Forever and One Hundred Years – Chapter 5: Saving or Ruining the Evening Morty closed the door of his locker and pulled his books tighter to his chest as his eyes landed on his crush. 'C'mon! Just go over there and ask her!' he mentally motivated himself. Swallowing heavily, he slowly approached the red head, who was currently chatting with her friends, two lockers down from him. Only when he came to a stop right next to them, did they stop talking and all of the girls' attention was suddenly focused on him. "H—" Morty quickly cleared his throat as only a squeaky rasp escaped him. "Hi, Je-Jessica." While the other girls fixed him with a look of annoyance, Jessica put a friendly smile on her face. "Hi, Morty." She kindly greeted back. The brunet swallowed once more, still feeling that annoying clump in his throat. "I-I wanted to ask if you m-might want to go to the dance? I mean wis-with me?" He laughed awkwardly at the end of the sentence, hoping that it would come across as charming or something like that…which it didn't. Jessica retained her smile when she answered politely. "Sorry, but I'm already going with my boyfriend. Brad." It should have been obvious that she already had a date for the upcoming school dance, so this answer shouldn't have surprised him. Still, Morty felt upset although he tried to hide it in front of his crush. "Oh o-okay." He stuttered with a nervous smile. Just in this moment, none other than Brad had to show up, wrapping an arm possessively around the red-haired girl. "Hey, babe. Is this guy bothering you?" He threw a glance at Morty that could potentially kill and made the smaller boy cringe. "It's okay, Brad. He was just asking me out to the dance, but I told him that I'm going with you." Jessica replied calmly. "Dude, how can you even ask her something like that? Don't you see how pretty she is? You should go and play in your own league!" The taller boy bellowed. Morty only shrunk further and wanted to stutter an apology, scared that the other might even go and beat him up now. "Calm down, Brad. I'm sure he didn't know that I have a boyfriend." Jessica threw in. That was actually a lie. Of course, Morty knew that even though it was sometimes hard to keep track with how often those two broke up before getting back together again. He still had something like hope though…but that was only meant to be crushed. "Girl, the whole school knows that we're together. There's no chance that he didn't know." The redhead only shrugged and let herself be steered away, her girlfriends following. Brad, who had still one arm wrapped around his girl, turned once more back to the brunet and gave him a look that promised that this conversation wasn't over yet. And it also promised pain. Morty didn't look forward to the continuation and mentally scolded himself for being so stupid at even attempting to ask Jessica out.

"Hey, Morty!" Rick greeted him in the classroom, sitting on his desk and looking like he had only waited for him. "What's up? Why're making that face?" The brunet slouched into his seat, not just his face but his entire posture spelling defeat. With a sigh at the beginning, he explained, "I asked Jessica if she would go to the dance with me. She said no. And not only that but Brad also showed up…and he's probably going to beat the shit out of me later…" "Then I'll go to the dance with you." Rick offered in a heartbeat. Morty did a double take, not believing that he had heard that right. "Really? You would go to the dance with me?" He was honestly surprised by the offer because he had thought for sure that Rick would actually ask a girl to go with him. A few of the popular girls were in fact just waiting for Rick to ask one of them, as far as Morty had overheard them in the hallways. Rick didn't seem to care about that at all though. "Sure, dawg! If you wanna, that is." "Yeah!! I-I mean, I'd like that, Rick." The brunet blushed at his way too exciting answer. After the rejection, he hadn't even been sure if he wanted to attend the school dance anymore, but now he was actually looking forward to it. It had him in such high spirits that even the biology test that they had to face now couldn't put a damper on his good mood. Or the most likely unavoidable run-in with Brad later on…

Morty tried to fix his bow tie for the umpteenth time in front of the mirror, convinced that it was still somehow wrong. It was finally the evening of the school dance and his parents had been kind enough to suspend his punishment just for today – though his dad quickly changed his mind about it after hearing that he would be going together with Rick. Luckily, Beth had shut him up again and said that it's fine as long as he was back before midnight. And he was expected to be back sober – not that Morty would have a problem with that since he didn't plan to drink anything tonight. Though, he wouldn't be able to say the same thing for his best friend. Said blue-haired boy would be here really soon to pick him up and Morty was unexplainably nervous and felt like he wasn't ready yet. So, he stood in front of the mirror in the hallway and fidget with his clothes, being in two minds about going back upstairs and re-dressing again. He wore a dark-grey suit, a white dress shirt and a yellow bow tie and had hoped that this assembly looked somewhat good, but he only felt really self-conscious about it. "You look fine, Morty." Summer suddenly appeared in the mirror and gave her make-up a last quick check. She wore a dark purple sleeveless dress and had her hair tied in a bun, held up by a beautiful hair clip that perfectly matched her earrings, necklace and bracelet. "Thanks. You look great, Summer." Morty smiled, his nerves a little eased after hearing that statement. "I know." His sister replied cockily and hurried to the door after hearing a car honk, only shouting a quick goodbye towards the parlor where their parents were and a 'later' to him. Her girlfriends were picking her up since they had decided to drive to the dance together. Well, Morty's own drive would also be here any moment now and gosh, why did he feel so nervous again?! He couldn't remember that he had even been this excited over a school dance. Then again, it was also the first time that he wouldn't go to one alone. The sound of a revving engine alerted him that Rick was finally here. "Mom! Dad! I'm leaving now!" He also yelled and stormed outside. Instead of waiting on the running bike for him, Rick had dismounted it and pulled his helmet off. Morty instantly felt self-conscious again as his best friend's gaze wandered him up and down once. Though Rick's appreciative smile relieved him. "Nice outfit, Morty. Looking real good." "Tha-thanks. You, too, Rick." The brunet couldn't help but blush a little. Rick actually looked amazing. The other teen wore a beige jacket and dress pants and a nice dark-blue button-up shirt and a white tie. Honestly, it's not what Morty would have expected, but then again, he really didn't know what exactly he thought his friend would be wearing tonight. The only thing that he was convinced about was that it really suited Rick and Morty wouldn't even been looking halfway as good as the other boy did if he were to wear the same thing. "Shall we?" Rick made a little bow and handed him the helmet, finally ripping the brunet out of his state of admiration. With a small smile and a shy blush, he accepted the offered accessory and put it on before following his friend's example and getting on the motorcycle.

The drive to school was short and uneventful. When they arrived, the parking lot was full and so was the gym hall. Music from the live band was blearing from the speakers and small decorations had been hung up to fit with some kind of festive theme while colorful lights illuminated the high schoolers that flocked on the dancefloor. As soon as they entered a few people greeted Rick and the teen greeted back, even shouting at some people to get their attention. "Hey, Gearhead!" He called out to one of the boys that stood near the punch table. The teen, whose actual name was Garry, wasn't happy about the nickname that he was given and instantly complained about it. "My name isn't "Gearhead", Sanchez. It is really rude to give such a nickname to a person who just happens to have a slightly unusually shaped head. Besides my head doesn't even look remotely like a gear! You don't see me going around and calling you Pillhead or Dorittohair or something like that either!!" Rick ignored him, not being bothered by the kvetching at all. Instead, he pulled Morty closer when he spotted Jessica and talked with him in a hushed tone that was still loud enough for the brunet to hear over the loud music. "Look, Morty! There's Jessica!" "Yeah, I can see that, Rick." The teen replied and his face fell at the sight. "And Brad is there, too." Indeed, the redhead was currently dancing together with her boyfriend. The sight was nothing to be excited about, though, she did look really pretty in her mint green dress. Before he could drift off in a dreamy state of admiring while imagining what it would be like if he could be next to her now, Rick continued. "Don't worry about that, Dawg! I'll give you a chance to be with Jessica by distracting Brad." "What?! How are you going to do that?" Morty couldn't believe it. Would Rick really do something like that for him? If he did, he would really owe something to the blue haired boy. Though, to be fair, it wouldn't be the first time that Rick bought him some alone time with his crush. This was going to be the best evening of his life if that would really work out! "Don't worry about that. Just leave it up to me." Without elaborating further, he steered Morty over to one of the tables and told him to wait there before vanishing seemingly into thin air. Not knowing what else to do with his time, he grabbed a red paper cup and filled some of the punch in it. After taking a sip, he could taste something bitter mixed in with the sweetness and his face instantly scrunched up. It was spiked! And this early in the evening already. With a sigh, he placed the cup on the table and decided that he wasn't really that thirsty. Taking another look around the gym hall, he suddenly noticed that Jessica was chatting with her girlfriends now and there was no sight of Brad anymore. How did that happen? Where did he go? He couldn't wonder for long as Rick suddenly returned to his side and nudged him. "C'mon, Morty! It's free rein now for you. Go over and talk to her!" Morty had no did idea how his friend did it or what exactly he had done, but he wasn't about to let that chance go to waste. He reached the girl when her friends scattered to dance with their dates and Jessica looked around in search for her own boyfriend. "Hey, Jessica!" He cringed a little at how shrill his voice sounded. She turned to him, looking surprised for a moment, but smiling friendly the next second. "Hello, Morty." "You look b-pr-gorgeous!" Damn his stutter! "Thank you. You look quite good yourself." She kindly returned the compliment. He laughed a little nervously, face turning even redder than after his little word tumble and he embarrassedly scratch the back of his head. "Would yo—" he had to clear his throat, "D-do you want to uh…dance?" "Well, I guess since my date left me hanging…" Her eyes roamed once more through the room. "Sure. Why not?" Morty visibly brightened up and eagerly made his way to the dancefloor with his crush, moving a little awkwardly, but clearly having fun.

Rick walked through the halls of the school. After seeing Morty dance with Jessica, he had some fun on the dancefloor himself with someone else, but suddenly the boy was gone. So he was searching for him now. After all, he would be a bad date if he wouldn't look for him and people could say many things about Rick Sanchez, but not that he was a bad date. Figuring that the boy was probably just using the toilet, he steered towards one of the restrooms when the door opened and the teen in question just came out. However, he looked anything but happy and his head as well as the neck of his shirt and jacket were wet. "Hey, what happened, Morty?" The brunet stared down at his feet when he answered. "Brad suddenly showed up. He saw me dancing with Jessica and didn't like it. So he beat me up and shoved my head in the toilet…" When he finally dared to look Rick in the eyes, he looked so pitiful, one of his eyes turning a purplish color and his cheek slowly swelling up. "Can we please just go home now?" The blue-haired boy's face hardened and he grabbed Morty's wrist. However, instead of dragging him to the exit, he urged the other teen back into the restroom again – much to the brunet's confusion. "Take of your jacket and shirt and then wash your face, Morty." He instructed. Despite still not understanding why he was supposed to do that, he followed Rick's directions without comment or hesitation and undressed before he went to the sink and splashed water in his face. Rick meanwhile had taken his clothes and proceeded to dry them using the hand dryer. After he was done with that, he helped Morty with drying his face and hair off as best as he could. After he told Morty to put his clothes back on, he handed him a comb that he handily had in one of his jacket pocket, fixed his yellow bow tie and lastly put some perfume on him that he also carried around. The brunet was actually surprised after all of the fussing was over and stared in the mirror. He looked presentable again (if you didn't count the slight bruising) and top of that, he smelled like Rick now. Actually, he had always figured that Rick would be using aftershave and not an actual perfume and the scent was an unusual one, but fitting. He needed to remember its name because it was actually really nice to be surrounded by that smell. "C'mon, Morty." Once more, Rick grabbed his wrist – something that he honestly did more often than not – and led him back into the gym hall again. The blue-haired teen dragged him all the way on the dancefloor just when a new and funky song started to play. It was the prefect opportunity for Rick to show off some of his cool dance moves again – like he always did at parties. The crowd quickly noticed that and made room on the floor, cheering him on as he moved gracefully. Morty actually felt a little embarrassed even though all eyes were on Rick right now. Still, he felt exposed with everyone standing around them and froze up, not wanting to make a fool of himself by attempting to dance alongside the much cooler teen. Besides, he really enjoyed watching Rick like everyone else did, so he was fine with this. However, the other seemed to have different plans as he kept making motions with his hands towards Morty, urging him to join him. Shyly the brunet shook his head, still refusing in fear of becoming the laughing stock of the school for the entire rest of the year because of this. Rick refused to give up though, dancing closer towards him and holding out his hand. As Morty kept looking at his expectant face – at that exciting smile – he slowly felt his resolve waning. He looked long enough into Rick's beautiful bright ice-blue eyes that he lost himself in them as well as the feel for reality and finally grabbed the inviting hand. Rick pulled him closer towards the middle and somehow the brunet fell easily into rhythm with him, dancing far more smoothly than he ever did before. For the entire time, he continued to look only at Rick and it felt to him like they were the only ones in the room. He didn't notice how the crowd around them kept cheering them both on. He couldn't even feel the pain anymore that he had thanks to Brad's beating. Everything else had just suddenly ceased to exist. Only after the song eventually ended, did he realize where he was again. The next song that came up was a slow one and Morty tried to leave the dancefloor again, when Rick stopped him. "Where do you think you're going, Morty?" the blue-haired teen asked. "Wh-wha—I-I th-thought—" The brunet poorly stuttered, convinced that his friend would actually want to dance with a girl now. Rick cut him short. "Everyone is entitled to one slow dance." With a grin, he pulled the stunned Morty closer towards him, putting his arms around him and began swaying to the music. The brunet felt once more distressed, although it wasn't quite like before. The crowd that had gathered around them had dissolved again as couples began to dance around them, so he didn't feel the pressure of hundreds of eyes on him anymore. Relaxing again, he went along with it, putting his own arms shyly around the other and following his lead. While they danced, Morty couldn't help but think about how kind Rick was tonight. Somehow, he had managed to make this school dance really enjoyable for him even after the entire fiasco with Brad. Dreamily he looked at Rick, his cheeks dusted with a cute flush and the other teen smiled gently back at him. Only when Morty realized that he was starring, did he avert his eyes in embarrassment. Still, he couldn't help but think that this was actually really nice…

The evening eventually came to an end and Rick brought him back home. Thankfully, the teen didn't had too much of the spiked punch and was still sober enough to drive properly without Morty having to worry too much about them getting into an accident. Rick stopped the motorcycle in front of the brunet's house and turned the engine off as he dismounted it. Like a gentleman, he walked Morty all the way to the door, which was almost silly since he never did that before. When they came to a stop at the front door, the brunet turned towards him. "Thank you, Rick, for the great evening and everything. I had really fun." It was true. For a moment, he had believed that everything was over and would be remembered as a horrible occurrence, but his genius friend had managed to turn it all around and made it into the best and most unforgettable night that Morty had ever experienced. "Don't sweat it." Rick waved him off with a grin. There was a brief silence between them and suddenly Rick looked as if he wanted to say something but stopped himself again. "Good night, Morty." With those words, he quickly took his leave and the brunet watched him till he was out of sight before going inside. For the rest of the night he wondered what Rick might have wanted to tell him…

AN: Kinda short chapter again, but you already know by now that consistent chapter length is not a thing for this story.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

#rick and morty #ram #rnm #rickmorty #rick/morty #rickorty #rorty #tiny rick #rick #morty #morty smith #au #fanfic #hopesfanfictions #fanfiction #slow burn #angst #romance

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catlya · 6 years ago

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Waging My Wars

Requested by @werewitchling

TimXReader

The reader is training to become a hero Dick and the reader go out on a sort of trial run, one night When suddenly a past fear rises in the reader that no one was aware of, Causing immense panic.

I hope you enjoy this and I'm sorry for the very long wait!

********

”Are you ready yet Y/N?” Dick sad exasperated all the while banging his head against the bathroom door. You yelled back telling him to be patient. Causing him to huff and leaning his weight on his head against the door.

You swung the door open suddenly causing him to fall. You junked out of the way quickly but there was no need. Dick easily shifted his weight and did a front flip to catch himself.

You rolled your eyes ”Show off.” then you walked out leaving Dick to follow you. As you reached to middle of the Bat Cave close to Dick and your bike you saw two familiar people leaning against two other bikes near by.

”Tim!” you yelled running towards him, ”I thought you had plans tonight?” you said as you ran throwing yourself into his arms when you got close. He laughed and wrapped his arms around you.

”I wouldn't miss my favorite girls first night patrol. I'm only here to see you off though, I promise. I know how much you want to do this alone it's bad enough Dick is insisting to go.” you laughed at his words and nodded but a defensive Dick spoke up.

”I need to make sure she's ready for this Tim. She needs to be closely monitored at first for protection.” you turned and glared at him as much as you could while being squished in Tims arms.

Tim shook his head then told Dick to ’shove it’ but not those words exactly.

”Anyway Y/N, I hope you enjoy your time out. You can do it I know you can.”

You smiled a but teary at Tims words and nodded ”Thank you, Tim.” you lifted your head and kissed him slowly.

You heard a cough to your left and you broke apart. ”Hi nice to see you too YN, I'm good, haven't died in a while at least.” you laughed at Jason's rant. He was only messing around something he did quite often.

You pecked Tim again and the turned to Dick and walked past him heading for your bike. Tim waved and yelled to you both ”Be safe!” you waved back and pulled your helmet on and started your bike. You revved it and then raced forward towards the cave exit.

Dick followed close behind. He tried to pass you a few times but you only laughed and pushed the bike further. You had Tim work on yours and modify it there was no way Dick could pass it.

Once outside the cave you swereved left and headed to Gotham’s Port the agreed place to start that night of patrol. Eventually you lost sight of Dick and you couldn’t help but imagine his frustration.

As you raced through town you watched the people walking about around you. Some were out for a night on the town while others were grocery shopping.

It was always fun to see that not all of Gotham was corrupt. At least not always.

You countinued on stopping your people watching. Finally you reached the port. You tucked your bike away in a shopping container. Then sat down waiting for Dicks slow a** to arrive.

A few minutes later you heard the roar of his bike as he turned the corner. The made a quick stop jumping off. He glared at you to which you responded with a laugh.

“Are you mad I left you in the dust?” You said with fake sympathy. “Poor Dicky Poo!” You busted out laughing at his annoyance. He shook his head then placed his bike beside yours.

“Not funny Y/N what if you’d gotten lost? Or in an accident? Do you want me murdered by Bruce or worse Tim?” You sobered up at his words and sighed.

“You take the fun out of everything.” You mumbled. “I’ll have you know many lady’s say I bring the fun all-“ you waved your hands interrupting his speech.

“Dick! I don’t need to hear that about my brother!” You groaned not being able to shake the image out of your head. Dick went quiet as you grossed out for a second.

When you noticed his silence you looked up to see him smiling at you widely obviously overjoyed. Then you remembered what you had said. It was the first time you’d called him your brother.

You smiled back at him then turned around towards the incoming board of the ports. “Alright so where should we start? Im thinking maybe on the-“ suddenly you were lifted up and you struggled for a moment before looking down and realizing Dick was hugging you.

You rolled your eyes then patted his head. “Yeah, yeah I get it you lug head.”

You set you down still holding you close and you giggled slightly at his overjoyed behavior. “As I was saying I think we should start from section 3 making our way up to one.” He nodded and quickly you were off I work.

Well after you convinced him to stop hugging you....

*****

After an hour you’d finished the port and began to work your way back into the city. You were on the ground scouting out around a local hardware store with a small bank next to it.

“Anything?” You heard over the com

“No, I think it’s clear.” Dick jumped down off the roof where he’d stationed himself.

“Alright then right here’s where we’re going to hold your first hands on session.” He put his hands behind him and the pulled around a grappling gun. Immediately you looked at it with distaste.

“I know you’ve had a bad experience with one before but it’s definitely a necessary tool. So you have to get over it.” He said firmly in a no nonsense tone.

What he was wanting was easier said then done. You remembered your trauma quite clearly. You’d only been 8 when your idiocy scared you forever.

Just to add to the embarrassment it was even the first time you met Tim. You had just moved in with Bruce not too long before and you’d already found out about his nightly activities.

Mostly because even back then you were extremely nosy and had a knack for figuring things out. Plus you stalked him, that helped.

You’d watched him disappear behind the grandfather clock one night and decided to follow him. You sat on the stairs down to the cave until he’d left in the BatMobile.

“Whoah!” You said joyously at the large cave that for some reason looked like a play place to you.

You ran around giggling until you found an area set up specifically for all of Batman’s gadgets. Your eyes zoned in on one in particular that looked like a toy gun. You’d had one before and remembered how fun it was to play cops and robbers.

So, of course, you wanted it.

Only problem was it was against the wall and you were incredibly small for your age so the large table holding other gadgets was in your way.

You huffed then looked around for something to stand on. You saw two spare tires and quickly moved towards them to grab them. However they were too heavy so you had to find something else.

You glanced around and finally you saw a slidey chair in front of a big computer. You giggled then ran and grabbed it. You punched it to the table and climbed onto it carefully.

Finally you’d gained access to your new treasure as you pulled it off the wall. You jumped down off the chair then started running around making “pew, pew.” Noises with your mouth.

Getting bored of that after a bit you started to look at the gun and smiled widely when you remembered the trigger. You looked around for something to be the bad guy in your game.

You suddenly saw a giant dinasour and wondered how you hadn’t seen it before.

Oh well it was the bad guy now.

You aimed your new gun at it and then...you fired.

The gun shot out a string something you definitely didn’t expect. You jumped causing the string to shoot higher it then wrapped around a metal beam holding the ceiling. You groaned then began piling on it but it wasn’t comeing back.

Then you did the dumbest thing you’d ever thought of. You jumped up grabbing hold of the rope pulling your feet off the ground applying all your weight to the rope.

Then suddenly it began to pull you up. At first it was slow then it slung you up making you scream as it moved so fast. I’m a split second you were against the bean dangling from the rope.

You looked down at the suddenly very far away floor then up at the, what looked like, very small fragile rope. Even if now you know it’s actually a very strong material at the time it looked very unreliable.

You looked back down at the floor and tears began streaming down your face. Then you screamed Bloody Murder. It echoed around the cave amplifying the fear in your voice.

You did that for a while when suddenly you heard the clank of the grandfather clock opening. In ran a bewildered Alfred. “Miss Y/N!” Close behind him ran in a boy about your age.

“Whoah how’d you do that, stupid.”

His words only managed to make you cry harder. He rolled his eyes then walked away leaving a frantic Alfred running under you. Then you fell, the rope began to descend dropping you very quickly from the ceiling.

Luckily the frantic Alfred managed to catch you. From that night on you were terrified of not only heights but grappling hooks as well. You’d also began to make fun of Tim quite a lot just as he had if you that night.

However that’s a story for another time.

“Hey!” You blinked and shook our head to see a very angry/worried Dick.

“Are you done spaceing off? It’s time to get to work.” You nodded and he sighed then walked behind you placeing the gun in your hand.

“Aim it at the top of that community building.” I did then you shot it and it hooked successfully the first time.

Of course.

He then walked back around you a proud smile on his face. “Good job now all ou have to pull the rope and it’ll lift you up. As you know already I’m sure.” You glared at his teasing then took a huge breath and pulled.

It launched you up as it had the last time. Only as it almost was completely back in the gun you swung yourself up onto the building and pulled the gun with you.

You executed it perfectly and you were so happy. You looked down and your happy expression dropped from your face....it was so far away.

You tried to calm down, tried to focus on something, anything else. It didn’t work though and you felt your chest constricting and you fall down. You pull yourself into a fetal position trying to focus but you weren’t able to at all.

Unknown to you Dick had also grappled his way to the top beside you. Once he noticed your position he panicked and kneeled down beside you. “Y/N? Y/N!” He screamed trying to check you over. You didn’t appear hurt in anyway.

He tried to pick you up but you began to scream so he quickly let you go. He sat down on the ground beside your curled up and sobbing body. He stroked your hair and then pulled out his phone.

“Dick, what’s wrong?” Answered Tim.

“Tim it’s Y/N!”

“I’m tracking you now.” With that he hung up and Dick was left alone yet again with your broken form.

He pulled you as close as he could then put his head on yours whispering to you that Tim was on his way.

****

“Y/N?” You heard.

You peeked out and saw Tim with a sympathetic smile. You leaped out of your position into his arms burying your head in his neck.

”Tim...” you whispered trying your best to hold it together.

”Shut up, stupid.” you smiled slightly at the name.

He did nothing but hold you for a while. One thing was for sure you were so happy to have someone help you. To have someone there for you.

Once you'd calmed down you lifted your head and began apologizing.

”I'm sorry for interrupting your work.” you sniffled a bit trying to wipe your tears.

Tim grabbed your hands and pulled them to his lips. ”Y/N it wasn't important, darling. Don't feel bad.” you nodded and pulled him close. He laid his head on your chest and closed his eyes.

”I love you.” he whispered, you smiled and looked down at him ”I love you too.”

You heard a cough behind you and turned. There stood Dick a small smile on his face.

“I’m glad you feel better Y/N. Time to get back to work!”

You groaned and Tim laughed

“Save me.” You whispered to him

He laughed and put his head against yours.

“You have to do something for me first.” He whispered back you smiled then asked what and he replied.

“Admit that your just slightly stupid.” You glared at him you didn’t expect that but really you should have.

Dick bust out laughing with Tim and you stared at him as he did so. No matter what you new Tim would be there if you needed him to help wage your wars. Just as you would be there for his.

And that alone made you feel damn good.

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thesimpsonsbracket · 4 years ago

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Round 1, Match 15

Duffless (Season 4, Episode 16)

This ended up being an unexpectedly wholesome episode about overcoming alcoholism with a fun science fair B plot with Lisa and Bart. Beer being such a large part of Homer's core character, it makes sense that we'd see this episode sooner or later and I think on the whole a good job was done here.

We see Homer give up beer for 30 days at the behest of his wife and he's surprisingly agreeable to the idea. This comes on the tail of a DUI he received after a tour of the Duff beer factory with Barney that shared the intro sequence with Bart's fantastic dream about the science fair.

It's nice to see Homer being open to going dry and the 30 days gives us a few cute vignettes of Homer going about his daily life sans beer. I also really loved how this episode focused so heavily on advertisements as a major factor in Homer's struggle to stay dry. I'm not entirely sure if this was meant to be a comment on the advertisement industry as a whole but it was interesting nonetheless.

As a brief aside: I wasn't able to dig up too much info on the topic, but I have the feeling that something happened during the 90s that limited how much alcohol was able to be advertised. Maybe TV ads took over physical ones like the blimp spot we see in the show or maybe I'm just making this all up. Regardless, this episode feels thoroughly 90s because of how many different mediums we see Homer experiencing ads.

Meanwhile, in the B plot, Lisa has grown a prize-winning tomato that she hopes will be the cure to world hunger and make her a household name among tomato loving families in the third world. In an incident what, let's be honest, was 100% Lisa's fault, Bart uses the tomato to 'prank' Skinner, resulting in the tomato being destroyed.

Devastated, Lisa vows revenge and as there's a science fair coming up that she suddenly doesn't have an entry for, she gets to work. I really enjoyed the whole "Is My Brother Smarter Than A Hamster" arc and while this definitely felt like a B plot, the few short scenes were all fun. Especially when Bart catches onto Lisa's plot and attempts to foil her, only to be almost immediately rumbled himself.

The only thing I didn't love about this episode was the conclusion to the B plot where we see Bart turn up to the science fair with a hamster in an airplane and steal first prize. I couldn't tell if this was Lisa's hamster or not but I guess it doesn't matter? Anyway, this felt like a weak ending to this plot and didn't really have the payoff I was hoping for. Life continues to be hard for little Lisa Simpson.

And back in the A plot, we see Homer shakily crossing of day number 30 on the calendar. Lucky this happened during a month with exactly 30 days and also started on the 1st, huh? He wants to celebrate by rushing off to Moe's to make up for his month-long dry spell but is temporarily deterred by Marge who is hesitant to let him start drinking again. Homer mostly ignores this and runs off to Moe's, only to have his sober eyes opened by the sights he sees there.

We see the episode ending on a cute shot of Homer riding his tiny bike with Marge on the basket, singing and generally being cute as they ride of into the sunset.

--- versus ---

El Viaje Misterioso de Nuestro Jomer (The Mysterious Voyage of Homer) (Season 8, Episode 9)

What an absolute roller coaster of an episode. We start out with Marge in an unusually suspicious mood that we quickly discover is due to the big annual chili cook-off being today.

Chili seems to be Homer's favorite thing in the universe (apart from beer) and this cook-off is something he looks forward too each year, even though he apparently can't remember when it's supposed to happen. Unrealistic plot setup aside, this is a fantastic episode.

Eventually Homer catches on and is upset at Marge for trying to hide this from him. Marge explains that she tried to keep Homer from the event due to his habit of getting completely wasted and making a fool of himself and so, as he's donning his chili boots, he promises Marge to not have any beer at the cook-off.

And with that, we're away to Chili Town. As the family enters the cook-off, we get to see how everyone opts to spend their time. Each of their responses is funny but I especially like Marge's bit with the spice rack. We move to focus on Homer, Sheriff of Chili Town, as he makes his way up and down the rows of chili vendors in a clearly western inspired style that’s evocative of Clint Eastwood films, among many, many others.

After humiliating Flanders' pathetic 2 alarm chili, he approaches his chili nemesis, Chief Wiggum, who has something special in store for Homer this year. The Guatemalan Insanity Pepper makes quick work of Homer's tongue, leading to an unfortunate incident where Marge catches him trying to sooth his volcano-like mouth with the closest liquid which just so happens to be beer.

Over the course of this episode we start to see the stability of Homer and Marge’s relationship begin to crumble away and while this is a completely reasonable coincidence, it nonetheless is a big blow. It’s clear from the onset of this episode that Marge has zero faith in Homer which I honestly have to say feels unearned and is one of my biggest issues with this episode.

Dejected at his humiliation, Homer is gulping down water and nearly tries to drink a candle before being stopped by Ralph. He then proceeds to drink the candle in an attempt to heat-proof his mouth because that’s how that works. As a quick side note: this specific scene is one of the very few that I remember seeing in my youth. Most of the rest of this episode is a vague blur but Homer chugging the candle sticks out so clearly in my mind that it was weird to have a bit of a nostalgic flashback when watching this.

Homer returns to Wiggum, mouth thoroughly coated in wax, and demands another pepper. He gulps down not one, but four insanity peppers before walking away, his heart swelling with pride and his stomach full of molten evil. About a minute later we see the peppers start to go to work and we transition into an absolutely incredible series of scenes.

First up, we see Homer's sanity slowly fraying away. His vision gets highly artistic and he starts to hallucinate as we see familiar characters like Flanders, Mrs. Krabappel, and Nelson horrifically distorted. This scare causes Homer to wander blindly away, out into the desert conveniently located just outside the cook-off venue.

Once in the desert, things really get weird and I can't overstate how much I love this scene. We see a ton of weird art styles and techniques clash together to visually recreate the feeling of every atom in your body being simultaneously transformed into pain.

Eventually the massive hallucinations wear off and Homer finds himself lost in the desert with only the regular, minor hallucinations to hang out with like his spirit guide, a hungry coyote voiced by Johnny Cash for some reason. When asked to find his soulmate, Homer responds that it's obviously Marge and with a simple "Is it?", Johnny disappears, leaving Homer to contemplate this bombshell.

We see Homer wake up on a golf course later and are treated to a few back to back jokes that really hit me hard. Homer's in the sand trap which he quickly works out was the desert he was dreaming of. Leaving the golf course, he remarks that the crazy pyramid that he climbed must have been the Pro Shop. We then cut out to a very wide shot of a pyramid some fifty stairs high with a Pro Shop nestled at the top. Homer then further remarks that the talking coyote must have just been the talking dog who reminds Homer to find his soulmate before being turned back into a normal non-talking dog upon remembering that talking dogs don't exist.

Marge explodes at Homer upon his eventual return home and again we see Marge simply ready to be mad at Homer and completely unwilling to hear him out and having zero faith in him to keep his word. After a brief argument, Homer decides to follow his heart and leave home, convinced that Marge truly isn't his soulmate. This takes us on yet another spirit quest that wraps up the last third or so of the episode.

There are some good goofs during this montage but ultimately Homer, desperate for any kind of human interaction, makes his way to a lighthouse, intent on befriending a lonely lighthouse keeper, only to find that there's a computer running the place.

Through a series of nonsensical plot devices, Homer and Marge are eventually reunited and Homer realizes that Marge truly is his soulmate and he's immediately ready to accept her back. This is where I get a little frustrated because I feel like Marge gets away pretty clean in this episode despite behaving in a frankly awful manner. Homer didn't have a single drop of beer at the cook-off and refused to hear Homer out when he showed up the next day. She also never apologized for how she acted.

She was selfish when she tried to hide the cook-off from Homer in the first place instead of just trying to talk to him like an adult and her childish behavior led to Homer running away. I'd like to see more episodes focusing on Marge's character flaws because I think she's probably the most interesting person in the whole family and yet so often it seems that she's only used as a foil and we never get anything more than surface deep.

Even in a recently covered Marge episode Fear of Flying we get teased with bits and pieces about Marge’s backstory and her seemingly tortuous upbringing by her mother but there’s never any meaningful payoff and it’s only played up for laughs.

Not to end on a downer, but for some reason this injustice stuck with me and left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth after an otherwise stellar episode.

--- verdict ---

Watching the first episode, I was sure that the feel-good family story was going to win out but Homer's insanity pepper fueled vision quest ended up being such a strong episode that I won't be surprised in the slightest if it ends up in my top ten. Small gripes about Marge's overall character and behavior in this episode aside, it's incredibly funny and manages to still have some feel-good family stuff thrown in for good measure.

On a personal note, while these two episode write-ups both went much, much longer than I had anticipated, I though that the Duffless review in particular was a great template to follow as far as balancing a straight-up review with my personal thoughts as well as balancing and pacing the A and B plots. The second episode didn't really have a B plot to speak of so it ran on even longer but I'm hoping to take this as a starting point and refine the technique a little more so we start to see more concise reviews.

#the simpsons bracket

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trash-the-tozier · 7 years ago

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The Disappearance of Georgie Denbrough (3/10)

Title: The Disappearance of Georgie Denbrough

Length ~60.8k (~6.7k for this part)

Summary: The summer between junior and senior year of high school, Bill’s little brother Georgie goes missing.

Warnings: It’s relatively canon-typical in terms of content. For this part there’s bullying, explicit language, blood/injuries, mentions of child neglect, mentions of murder and cannibalism, lots of gay

Pairings: eventual Richie/Eddie and Ben/Beverly

A/N: yes I did that thing with Richie’s parents but I mostly needed an empty house for plot reasons and this was the first thing I thought of, it’s not really mentioned much more than this also posted to my ao3 here (much more readable tbh) Previous Parts: 1 | 2

The sewers were a bit of a walk. Thanks to painfully fast growth spurts and the ability to drive, none of them rode their bikes much anymore, something that Stan was really missing as they went. His feet were starting to ache, but when he turned to ask Bill if he was experiencing the same thing, he saw his friend engaged in a quiet, slightly awkward-looking conversation with Beverly. Maybe he could take Eddie’s place and use Richie’s piggyback ride offer.

As they walked around a bend in the road, a car came into view. A very familiar black car.

“Hey! Bowers’s ride!” Richie exclaimed, rushing over to it. He took an exaggerated sniff. “Still minty fresh. You guys see any mud around here?”

“No, no.” Eddie said quickly, and Stan had to agree. “We’re not doing that again.”

“But it was fun!”

“It was, but still--” He stopped, frowning and pointing. “Is that the homeschooled kid’s bike?”

They all recognized the basket bicycle immediately, fallen to its side next to Bowers's car, books with “Derry Public Library” stamps on them spilling over the lawn. They must have just missed seeing him.

An incoherent shout made all of them jump, the voice horribly recognizable.

“Bowers.” Stan murmured. “They probably jumped him.”

“We have to help him!” Beverly insisted.

“We should?” Richie asked. Stan could understand his hesitancy; if Bowers tried to kill Ben just for being present when his car got fucked, the chance of them getting out of an encounter with the bully with all of their fingers, toes, eyes, or ears was slim. Beverly looked around at them all, openmouthed, as though she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Yes!”

Then she took off, and they had no choice but to follow. Stan’s long legs kept up with her easily, coming up on the edge of a creek, watching in alarm as she bent, picked up the biggest rock she could fit in her fist, and hurled it at Henry Bowers. It hit him so hard in the forehead that Stan could’ve sworn he heard something crack.

That got the attention of the whole group. The bullies had Mike Hanlon, the homeschooled kid, flat on his stomach on the ground, shoving his face into the water. The rock had Bowers taking his foot off the back of Mike’s head and staggering backwards, Vic and Huggins loosening their grips and letting Mike breathe.

“The fuck?” Huggins shouted, the skidding of sneakers signaling the arrival of rest of the group behind them. Henry looked up. His expression was absolutely murderous, the glare turning to a bit of a smirk when his eyes landed on Beverly.

“You losers are trying too hard!” He yelled at them. “She’ll do you. You’ve just got to ask nicely.” He rolled his hips, grabbing at his crotch. “Like I did.”

Ben let out an angry roar, a gargantuan rock already in his hand too, the sound so close and loud that it made Stan flinch. Both his friends and the bullies were starting to pick up stones, arming themselves for battle as Mike scrambled to get to their side of the creek. Stan didn’t know whether or not they would make it out of this rock fight alive. He didn’t know whether or not Richie could tell the future. There was one thing he was sure of, though: their new friends were crazy.

“ROCK WAR!” Richie shouted, and rocks went flying.

Stan tried his hardest to dodge and keep his head down, picking up the sharpest pieces of rock he could find and hurling them across the creek. It was particularly satisfying when he managed to hit one of them, but they hit him right back and goddamn, the rocks hurt. Eddie let out a battle cry, leaping into the water to get closer, beaming Huggins straight in the face. Huggins cursed at them as Bill jumped in the water too, but after another direct hit from Beverly, began to retreat.

Bill threw a particularly large stone, hitting Bowers right between the eyes. It seemed to happen in slow motion, Stan watching in amazement as the bully fell on his ass.

The fight wrapped up quickly after that. As soon as Bowers was down and out they wasted no time, Stan grabbing one of Mike’s shoulders and steering him back the way they’d come. Behind them, Richie yelled.

“Go blow your dad, you mullet-wearing asshole!”

“Fuck all, it’s like he wants to die.” Eddie murmured from next to him. They made it to safety, Ben and Beverly picking up Mike’s books, Ben walking with his bike until they were far away from the car and the creek. Then they stood there, taking in each other’s injuries.

Stan hadn’t been hit too many times, he realized. Not when he looked over the others. All of them had cuts somewhere on their faces, one on Bill’s lip looking particularly deep, nasty, and badass. Beverly was bleeding from her nose, Eddie from a nick on his chin, and Richie was smiling at them from a nasty forehead wound that was running blood into his eyes. Ben looked incredibly banged up, though it was hard to tell what was old and what was new, and Mike looked half drowned. Everyone had a few growing welts.

“We kicked their asses!” Richie shouted, arms thrown in the air as though he hadn’t just been beamed in the forehead by a lump of breccia the size of his fist. “We. Kicked. Their. Asses.”

“Yeah.” Beverly was beginning to grin, though it looked like it hurt. “We did.”

“We need to do something though.” Eddie was beginning to panic, trying to fuss over the cut on Richie’s head but was hilariously too short to do so. “We need to disinfect.”

“C’mon Eds, you didn’t seem worried about germs when you jumped into that creek!” Richie told him, bending down in compliance. “That was fucking awesome, Spaghetti Man.”

Eddie’s smile was muted, like he was trying very hard to hold it in and continue looking disapproving.

“Is there anywhere we can go and wash up?” Beverly asked. There was only one place where parents wouldn’t ask any questions, Bill, Eddie, and Stan himself all looking to Richie. He beamed.

“To my house!” He declared grandly. “We can get patched up there. Mom won’t mind, if she’s even home.”

They began walking, Stan leading the way as he pressed the heel of his hand to the cut on his cheek. The procession only made it a few paces however, Ben stopping when he noticed that Mike wasn’t coming along.

“You too, Homeschool.” Richie told him, extending the invitation with a wave of his hand. “C’mon.”

“You guys shouldn’t have done that for me.” Mike said. He frowned, looking troubled. “Now they’ll be after you too.”

“What, Bowers and his gang?” Eddie asked. “Nah, they already beat up on us.”

Richie nodded in an almost proud manner, coming up behind Mike to slap him on the back, both as a show of camaraderie and a means to urge him forward.

“Welcome to the Loser’s Club.”

Richie’s house was a little farther than any of them wanted to walk, but eventually they made it. Richie gave a bit of a bow as the building came into view, putting on a terrible accent that wasn’t really from anywhere.

“My humble abode.”

There was nothing “humble” about Richie’s house, full to the brim with fancy, out-of-place furniture and needlessly expensive knick-knacks. Mr. Tozier liked things better than people, which was quite fortunate, because he liked his job better than his family, too. No one was home, as expected. There wasn’t much of a sign that anyone had been in the lower floor of the house in a while.

“Where is your mom?” Ben asked, glancing around. “Work?”

Richie shook his head. “No job. I dunno; she does this sometimes. And if she is home she’s drunk, so I really don’t care.”

Richie did care, though. Stan knew how many years Richie had tried hard to care about her, tried to get her to sober up or come home. After years of it not making a difference, he’d started to stifle those feelings, confessing to Stan once at near three a.m. that the less he cared, the less it hurt. Richie tried to keep himself convinced that he didn’t need her; he didn’t need either of them. It worked most of the time.

Eddie took control of the first aid as soon as they all were inside the kitchen, asking his friends to line up in order of who was most needed medical attention, Richie digging around in his cabinets for any supplies they could use. Eddie hadn't brought anything more than a few spare bandages, hand sanitizer, and his inhaler--his mother had confiscated the rest, claiming he didn't need anything if he truly was just going to the library, which was the dumbest thing Eddie had heard in awhile. He'd tried not to tell her that, but it had slipped out anyway.

Mike was pushed towards him first, but after a quick once-over Eddie found that all things considered, Mike didn't need much of anything except for some ice, and time to recover from the emotional trauma of nearly being drowned in a creek by the Bowers gang. He told Mike to go sit down but Mike wanted to help, so Eddie asked him to start getting ice instead. They'd need a lot of it.

Stan was offered up next, because while Ben and Bill were most badly banged up, they were refusing to get help before Beverly, Bev trying to argue about how stupid that was. Stan gave him a sheepish look.

“I’m really okay.” He said earnestly. He had a stripe of red on his cheekbone where the skin had split and bled, now bruising. Eddie gave him the quick rinse-peroxide-bandage treatment, really wishing he had some sort of gloves to wear, his jaw clenching every time his friend flinched.

“Sorry.” He said. “Go get some ice from Mike, then drag Bill over here. His lip is still bleeding.”

Stan did as he was told, and a second later Bill was shoved into the chair in front of Eddie by Stan and Beverly, stuttering out protests. His lip looked rather nasty, the whole front of his shirt covered in blood. He tried to tell Eddie something, but between a stutter and now a swollen lip, it was near impossible.

Ben and Beverly both were very good patients, keeping still as he cleaned their wounds, and then it was time for Eddie to wrangle Richie. The gangly teen had been flailing around the house, grabbing things they needed--water for everyone, more bandaids or peroxide, a clean shirt for Bill--and while he was possibly the worst injured, Eddie knew that Richie still had too much adrenaline in his system to stop moving and get his head looked at, so he’d just let him go.

He approached Richie now with peroxide and a paper towel, ready to demand that he sit still when Richie looked at him and blinked.

“You know you’re bleeding too, right?”

“What?” Eddie looked down, his eyes catching on a spot of blood that he was pretty positive wouldn’t be coming out of his yellow t-shirt. He felt around on his face until he touched the scrape on his chin, hissing out a breath when it stung. He’d been so worried about his friends that he hadn’t even felt it. “Shit.”

“Let me clean it for you!” Richie offered excitedly, taking the peroxide from Eddie’s hand. “I know what to do, I promise.”

“There’s no way of knowing the last time you washed your hands.” Eddie said in declination.

“C’mon Eds, it’s good for you! Ever heard ‘rub some dirt in it’?”

“And how many people that said that have died of tetanus? Probably all of them. Except the people that got anthrax poisoning first.”

Richie wasn’t really listening to the jape, looking over the bottle of peroxide.

“What would happen if I drank this?”

“It would burn through your intestines and you would die.”

Richie laughed. “No kidding.”

Eddie took the bottle back, a bandaid over his cleaned chin wound in no time. Between his mother and his friend group, Eddie had plenty of experience patching people up, including himself. Nobody else seemed to care when they had scraped knees or other arbitrary scratches, but he couldn’t just let his friends walk around in such a susceptible state. It made his eye twitch.

“Now it’s your turn, trashmouth. Bend down so I can look at you.”

Richie complied, but it soon became apparent that the arrangement wasn’t going to work for long. The rest of the group was sitting around the dining room table icing their wounds, Beverly now in the chair Eddie had been using, and Eddie didn’t want to ask her to get up for him.

“Here.” Richie offered, patting the countertop. Eddie understood, jumping up and sitting, his legs dangling over the edge. Richie’s head was angled down, looking at his lap until Eddie used a couple of fingers to tilt his chin up. Richie swallowed.

“I like those shorts.” He said. “You look cute in them.”

Eddie willed himself not to flush. The shorts were pretty old, red with a rainbow stripe down each side. He'd been absolutely drowning in them when he'd first gotten them, the waist cinched as tight as it would go, but now he figured they were getting a little too small.

“Do you really want to tease the guy with full access to your gaping head wound?” Eddie asked, raising his eyebrows. Richie chuckled.

“How about you learn to take a compliment, Kaspbrak.”

Eddie bit hard on the inside of his cheek, but knew Richie could tell he was trying not to smile. Then Richie moved his hand, placing it palm down on Eddie's thigh, on the skin where either the shorts had hiked up from him clambering onto the counter or just weren't long enough to cover anymore, and it was suddenly so, so much harder to focus on the gash on Richie's forehead. He hoped Richie couldn't hear his heart beating as loud as he could feel it.

Eddie was not in love with Richie Tozier. Richie was loud, obnoxious, gross, and liked to tease him way too much. He was tall and cute but gangly too, his hands always so warm that Eddie often wanted to check and make sure he wasn't running a fever.

“Here, hold your hair back.” Eddie instructed, brushing a few strands out of Richie’s eyes as he took off his glasses. By some miracle, Richie did what he was told twice in a row, Eddie dipping a paper towel into warm water and beginning to clean the blood off Richie’s face. Richie simply watched him, his eyes traveling Eddie’s face as he worked. Eddie couldn’t stand the silence for more than a couple of minutes.

“This is the most still and quiet you’ve ever been.” He remarked. “Someone needs to write this date down. Make it a national holiday.”

“Just trying not to mess you up, Doc. This is my face we’re talking about. If even an inch of it got screwed up, your mom would mourn for weeks.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, his default response to Richie’s mom jokes after learning that telling him to shut up just wasn’t going to cut it. Richie blinked at him.

“You do that a lot.”

“Do what?”

“Roll your eyes at me.”

“Yeah. It’s because you say a lot of stupid shit.”

“Oh.”

For a moment, Eddie felt bad.

“You… You make me laugh though, too. You know that.”

Richie winked at him, using his free hand for a finger gun.

“Well, that is my life’s calling after all. I’ve gotta be good at it.”

“What?”

“Purpose on Earth: make Edward Kaspbrak smile. I’m even going to major in it in college.”

“Oh, shut up.” Eddie responded. He didn’t want the words to make him happy--it was just more of Richie’s stupid teasing after all, just like everything else was--but his heart wouldn’t listen. Richie grinned, pointing at his face.

“See? I’m acing this thing already.”

Eddie placed the adhesive bandage over Richie's forehead wound with gentle fingers. It was huge tan rectangle that wasn't nearly as cool as Bill's busted lip.

“Well nurse?” Richie asked, taking a step back to let Eddie take in the whole picture. “How sexy do I look?”

Eddie bit his lip and grinned.

“You got hit in the face with a rock.” He responded. “You look like a huge dumb dork.”

Richie beamed at him, and for a moment every single thing was right in the world.

Okay, maybe Eddie was in love with Richie Tozier. But only a little bit.

Finally, everyone was bandaged up. Mike watched as Richie and Eddie also came over to them, noticing the table was one chair short. He was about to get up and offer his own seat when Stanley simply scooted over, now taking up part of Bill’s chair, the two sitting half on top of each other, and Richie and Eddie sat down.

“Thanks for all of this.” Beverly said to Eddie, Mike nodding along to her words. She was holding a washcloth full of ice to a knot on the side of her head. “You did a really great job.”

“Yeah, you should be a nurse or something.” Ben agreed. Eddie pulled a face.

“And touch other people’s gross and diseased bodies? No way.”

“But you’d get paid to touch them.” Richie pointed out.

“Unlike your sister, who touches gross bodies for free.”

“...do you have a sister?” Ben asked.

“You’re right Eds, you couldn’t be a nurse. The world isn’t ready for you in that nurse outfit.” Richie let out a loud wolf whistle. “The skirt alone--”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Eddie said, flicking Richie’s forehead bandage and making him yelp. Beverly looked over at Bill in an almost accusing manner.

“And you’re sure they’re not dating?”

“It’s all teasing.” Eddie said quickly. Mike felt his eyebrows go up his forehead.

“I'd be cheating on my main squeeze!” Richie said, mock indignance in his voice. “I would never do Eddie’s mom dirty like that.” Even as he spoke, Richie was stretching an arm across the back of Eddie’s chair. “I mean, I do her dirty every night, but--”

“Beep beep, Trashmouth.” This time it was Stan. Beverly seemed unconvinced, but changed the subject anyway.

“So… Your parents are never home?” She asked Richie, something akin to envy in her voice. “Is this where all the wild midnight ragers happen?”

“Oh, you mean me lying around and eating a disgusting amount of Cheetos in my underwear?” Richie asked. He sent a wink her way. “Because those are biweekly, baby. Just come on over.”

Bev looked around at all of them in disbelief.

“You guys really don't hang out here all the time?”

“The no parents thing sounds cool, except then your mom doesn’t go grocery shopping for four weeks and you’re left eating peanut butter and lunch meat sandwiches.” Richie said with a sigh. Mike couldn’t believe he was talking about something like this so offhandedly, but Stan pulled a face.

“Watching you eat one of those was the worst experience of my life.” He said, Richie sitting up indignantly.

“But it’s full of protein. That’s good, right? Isn’t that how food works?”

“You can eat a peanut butter sandwich, and you can eat a sandwich with lunch meat in it, but you can’t eat them together.”

“You’re telling me to eat one of them just by themselves? That’s even worse.”

“Okay, you can’t buy more bread with the tiny amount of money that you have for yourself, but you’re able to keep the house stocked with…” Stan reached forward into the pile of first aid supplies, picking up the first thing his hand landed on. He frowned, sounding the word out carefully. “...hydrocortisone ointment? What does this even do?”

“That stuff’s important.” Richie mumbled, glancing down, and Mike would have bet money that he was looking at Eddie’s hands, which the little hypochondriac had resting in his lap. Bill took advantage of the lull in the argument, cutting in.

“We're n-not really allowed to be here all together.” He said. “Eddie's mom k-k-kinda…”

“She hates my guts.” Richie supplied helpfully. “And she’s that crazy kind of mom that actually calls the house of the hangout to make sure her child is ‘doing okay’. As far as she knows, Eddie’s never actually been here.”

“Maybe she hates you because you make jokes about her all of the time.” Ben supplied. Richie gave the suggestion mock consideration before shaking his head.

“Nah, though that would definitely be the reason if she knew about it. I’m pretty positive it happened when I accidentally set her Christmas lights on fire with my cigarette. A word to the wise: never try to climb out of Eddie’s window and smoke a Winston at the same time.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“No w-w-way.” Bill interjected. “That happened l-last year, Richie. She’s hated you for way longer t-t-than that.”

“Was it the drunken serenading thing then?” Richie looked perplexed, scratching his head. “Careless Whisper is a classic, regardless of how late into the night it’s being blasted at Eddie’s window.”

“I t-t-think it was the p-puking in their garden afterwards t-that made her mad, Richie.”

“You just started existing, and that’s when she knew.” Stan said. Richie laughed, pointing at him.

“That’s the one. I’m Sonia Kaspbrak’s mortal enemy, from the womb to the grave.”

“Never, ever say ‘womb’ ever again.” Beverly requested.

“Uterus?” Richie tried.

“Beep beep.” Beverly said. Then she looked between Eddie and Stan. “Did I use it right?”

Mike wondered how long these six had been hanging out together. He couldn’t quite tell, but they seemed like a nice group. As though able to read his thoughts, Stan turned to him.

“We noticed all of the books and stuff with your bike; were you at the library before you got jumped? Because we were there too and we didn't see you.”

“I…” Mike faltered, swallowing. “Yeah, I was there, but something happened. I left the library maybe a half hour after you guys found me.”

“Bowers was beating on you for half an hour?” Richie asked. He sounded almost impressed, but Mike couldn’t tell if he was impressed by the fact that he’d let the gang wail on him for that long, or impressed by the fact that he was still alive. Either way, he was wrong.

“No, I… I saw something.”

“Something?” Beverly pressed. Mike took a long breath. Part of him--an embarrassingly large part, he found--wanted to pretend that nothing had happened, suppress the occurrence until his hands stopped shaking. He clasped them on the table, giving his head a small shake. He could trust this group, and he needed to tell someone.

“I was walking my bike back, because I’d checked out too many books to fit in the basket and had to carry some. I turned to go through the woods--there’s a shortcut to my house past that creek--when I saw a man in the trees. He was holding a large bag in one hand, and… Something in the other, and…” Mike’s mouth felt incredibly dry, but he knew that drinking anything would make him nauseous. “He was dressed as a clown.”

“A c-c-c-clown?” Bill asked. “That’s weird.”

None of them were nearly as scared as he felt they should be, and Mike realized they didn’t know.

“Are you afraid of clowns?” Stan asked, misreading his expression. Mike figured he must seem silly, and was eternally grateful to them all for not laughing at him.

“Not… Not really.” He got up, walking over to his backpack and bringing it over. He unzipped it and began pulling things out, everyone looking surprised.

“Do homeschooled kids not get summer break?” Richie asked in a voice of faint horror.

“These are all my dad’s journals.” Mike began. “He was really interested in all the bad stuff that always seemed to happen in Derry. He thought that they might all be caused by something. The same thing.”

He brought out the pictures he’d managed to find: a clown streaking away from the charred Black Spot, a clown posing for a photo with the rest of the participants in the Easter Parade, before the Kitchener Ironworks explosion. Sightings around town: a dressed up man in the background of photos. A few sketches done by artists who said their houses were broken into. It was a man with cartoonishly bright orange hair, the white facepaint bringing stark attention to his receding hairline. His nose was painted red and so were his lips, the corners of his mouth drawn so far up his face that they went through his eyes and up past his eyebrows. His costume was endowed with red pompoms and ribbons and looked as though the ruffles were once white, but had dirtied and greyed for years. The only bright whites were his gloves.

“Clown.” Eddie breathed.

“All these events happened years apart from each other, but my dad thought the clown was the same person. I measured things, real life things in the photos, so I could check his height, and it’s the same in all of the photos. The same build. So, logically, same guy.”

“And you saw this clown?” Stan asked. “Jesus. What was he carrying?”

“I don’t know.” Mike confessed. “Or… I don’t know what was in the bag, at least. But I saw the thing in his hand. It took me a long time to realize what it was. It wasn’t until he saw me staring at him, and he smiled, and… Waved it at me. It was an arm.”

“An arm?” Ben echoed. He looked pale. He stuck his own arm out into the middle of the table. “Like… An arm arm?”

Mike nodded. Now that he’d started talking, he couldn’t seem to stop.

“The wrist had a bracelet on it, and I realized that I recognized it. So I went back into town, and found out where I’d seen it before.” He opened up a folder, one he was using to collect new evidence into. He pulled out Betty Ripsom’s missing poster. The girl had her face resting on her fist, and sure enough, a bracelet was there. “It looked just like this one. The beads were little pink flowers.” He swallowed again, a sick feeling rising in his stomach. “I think it was Betty Ripsom’s arm, and I think the thing in the bag…”

“...was Betty Ripsom.” Richie finished. “Fuck, dude. Shit.”

“W-w-w-w-w-wait.” Bill looked so shaken that he was about to break. “I-i-i-if… If he h-had B-B-Betty, then t-the other kids… W-who is he? We h-have to g-g-go b-back to w-w-w-where you saw him.”

Before Mike could respond, Stan had a hand on Bill's arm.

“No.” He said, and he sounded deadly serious. “If that guy really is some crazy clown with a girl in a body bag, we need to go to the police.”

“He's long gone anyway.” Mike said. “He disappeared, and I didn't see which way he went.”

Bill looked angry for a moment, as though he'd let the clown go on purpose.

“Hey, what is all this stuff?” Beverly had reached forward, looking through one of the journals that he'd brought over. “Who is 'Robert Gray’?”

“I feel like I've heard that name before.” Ben said, frowning. “Was he in the news, or something?”

“Yeah, but it was a long time ago.” Mike flipped through his things, trying to find the copy he had that detailed the Gray family court case. When he did he placed it down on the table, everyone leaning forwards to look at it.

“The whole Gray family lived here a long time ago, and they ran the butcher shop in town.”

“The one your family sells to?” Richie asked. Mike nodded.

“Yeah, that one. They didn't keep the place up to code, so they got into trouble a lot, but they always kept their prices low, so they stayed in business. They always had stuff to sell, but it didn't come out for a couple years that when animal meat they had was in short supply, they would… With people…”

Mike didn't want to say it. Thankfully, one by one, the Losers got what he meant. Eddie was the last one, and the horror on his face had Mike worried for a moment that he might fall out of his chair.

“They would kidnap people and… Sell them?” Beverly asked hesitantly.

“They wouldn’t always sell all of them.” Mike said. “There were some people that they… Kept, and…”

“And ate, yeah.” Richie finished. “What’s this got to do with our killer clown?”

“The family got caught and sent to prison, but the police couldn't find their son. He was only a teenage boy, but he’d been in on the whole thing. Multiple people saw him running out of town, including my grandfather, but searches of the surrounding areas never came up with anything. My dad thought he doubled back. My dad thought he never left.”

“The kid is Robert Gray, isn't he.” Stan’s voice was quiet. “If he never left, where the hell does he live?”

Mike had a bunch of police reports, pulling them out as he spoke. They piled up in the table in front of him.

“People reported break-ins and theft, but it was never any valuable stuff; food, cutlery, things like that. Some people said they'd noticed things being moved in their houses for days--even weeks--before they saw someone, as though someone had been secretly living there. Eventually, mangled bodies started showing up. Then someone got a picture of him, but nobody recognized his face.”

Mike pulled the picture out, placing it side by side with the mugshot of Mr. Gray. Both of the men had similar features, the same hooded eyes and thin upper lip, the same balding pattern in the hair.

“But my dad recognized him. As soon as the photo showed up in the papers, the clown sightings started instead.”

Nobody said anything as he finished. Feeling slightly discouraged, Mike slowly sat back down. He’d had his head in this stuff for days, doing tons of reading and following the trail his father had left behind. It hadn’t really occurred to him how crazy it could sound to anyone else.

“So… The clown is Robert Gray?” Ben asked.

“My dad thought so.”

“But there haven't been any break-ins recently. There haven't been any in awhile.”

“If he got himself a place to live, he wouldn't need to live in other people's houses.” Richie pointed out.

“But what neighbors don't notice a guy in a clown costume living right next door?” Beverly asked. “He'd need a job, a life…” She pointed to Gray’s picture. “The town is too small. We would have seen a guy that looks like this.”

Bill, who had been very still and quiet, licked his lips nervously before speaking.

“The s-sewers.”

“People don't live in sewers.” Eddie was looking more and more uncomfortable. “How could someone stand it? Where would they sleep? What--”

“Why didn't your dad tell anyone?” Beverly asked Mike, cutting him off. “This stuff could really be important.”

“He tried. They laughed him off as soon as they heard 'Robert Gray’. Said they didn't want to deal with that past stuff anymore. But I have a bunch of other things that my dad has put together that might help us find him. It's at home; we could go tomorrow and read over it if you guys want.”

“Why t-tomorrow?” Bill asked. He looked anxious; jittery almost. Mike pointed to the window. The sun was already making its way down.

“Shit, I've got to go home.” Eddie jumped to his feet. “Shit, shit, I’m way later than I should be, she’s going to notice my injuries, she’s--”

“Be cool, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie said. His carefree tone seemed to piss Eddie off even more, raising his voice.

“Be cool? Have you met my mom?”

Richie frowned, leaning back in his chair to glance up at Eddie’s face. He tugged lightly on the front of Eddie’s shirt.

“Do you want me to spend the night then?”

Every single head turned in their direction, and Mike could tell that as far as sleepovers were concerned, he wasn’t the only one out of the loop.

“No!” Eddie blushed a burning scarlet. “No, I… I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll walk with you, Eddie.” Beverly said, getting to her feet. After seeing the setting sun, her face had gone a bit pale. “I need to get going too. Where should we meet tomorrow?”

All eyes looked to Bill, who had to think for a few moments.

“Is t-that Bunyan statue in the m-m-middle of town g-good for everybody?” He asked. After a collective group of nods people began standing, ready to head home. Ben rushed over to Beverly’s bag, putting it on her shoulder for her.

“Have a good night, Beverly.” He said, smiling. She gave him a soft smile back, throwing an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, and the two set off into the gathering dusk.

“Damn, I’m going to get back so late. If I don’t show tomorrow, just tell everyone else to go on without me.” Eddie said. Beverly nodded, pulling a cigarette from the box in her purse.

“Sure. Why, you going to get grounded or something?”

“My mom doesn’t ‘ground’ me. She takes me to the doctor all day and has them do tests on me. I’ve had nineteen CAT scans. I’m only sixteen.”

Beverly lit up, then took a long, slow drag. She couldn’t imagine having a parent like Eddie’s. It seemed like it could be nice though, having someone that cared so much.

“So.” She glanced over at Eddie, smiling a little. He looked back. He seemed nervous to be walking alone with her, but she wanted to ask him something. “About Richie.”

His ears turned pink immediately.

“What about him?”

“That’s what I want to know.”

Eddie shrugged. Beverly had the feeling that the action was supposed to look casual, but it really, really didn’t.

“He’s super tall and a complete idiot, though somehow he aces everything in school without trying, which is completely outrageous because it’s like his brain is hardwired for stupid shit. He says a lot of gross stuff too but he actually does care, and you can always tell him to shut up--not that he’ll listen probably, but you could try--and sometimes--”

“When did you realize you were in love with him?” Beverly cut in. She had a feeling Eddie’s rambling about Richie could go on for a good while, so she decided to cut to the chase. Eddie fell completely silent, and for a second Beverly thought he might try to deny it. But he had to know how obvious he was; he had to realize how pointless that would be.

“...I don’t know.” He finally admitted. His eyes were on the ground. “Awhile ago, I guess. But… But I shouldn’t, it’s wrong, and bad, and he’s my friend, I…”

Eddie let out a loud breath, swallowing hard. Beverly frowned at him.

“Eddie, do you… Do you not see the way he looks at you?”

“What?” Eddie shook his head. “He just teases me. He likes to tease me like that, pinching my cheeks and all that shit. He doesn’t… Nothing’s serious.”

“Eddie.” She tried again, waiting until he was looking her in the eyes. “Seriously?”

Eddie was quiet again, looking down at his feet as they moved. He moved quickly, but didn't seem to get very far; Beverly could keep up easily.

“Sometimes… Sometimes I want to think that maybe, but…” He shook his head. “It's wrong, and bad, and he's my friend.”

Eddie stopped, staring at a house down the street with a resigned sort of loathing. That must be where he lived. Beverly put her cigarette out against the heel of her shoe.

“There's nothing wrong about loving someone, Eddie. Okay? Fuck whatever…” She looked down the street at the house too, imagining Eddie's overanxious mother sitting inside. “Fuck whatever anybody else says.”

Eddie gave her a small smile. “I… Thanks, I guess.”

“Yeah.” She shrugged, touching his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Eddie walked home, and Bev set off down the street. She could only hope that by some miracle, her father wasn't home. She wasn't allowed to stay out past sunset anymore, and as unpredictable as her father's behavior could be, she knew for certain that her consequences for staying out past curfew wouldn't just be a trip to the doctor's.

When she opened her front door, a blast of sound from the television hit her like a gust of wind. She stood there for a moment, swallowing. The TV was loud, which always meant her father was drunk. That meant this encounter could go two ways; good enough or very, very bad.

Against all of her expectations, Alvin Marsh was passed out on the couch. She wanted to cry in relief, creeping past and going into her room. She changed out of her clothes and into a set of pajamas, doing everything she needed to get ready for bed. As she rifled around in her bag for her cigarette and lighter, ready to hide them in her dug out copy of Gone With The Wind, something fluttered out of it and onto the floor.

She frowned, bending to pick it up. It was a “Welcome to Derry Maine” postcard, a picture of a large white lighthouse taking up the majority of the front. Confused, she turned the postcard over.

Your hair is winter fire! January embers! My heart burns there too

It was from a “Secret Admirer”, her name written in on the address half of the postcard. Beverly stared at it, reading it over and over again, biting her lip as her cheeks began to ache from smiling. She ran her finger over the last line of the poem, unable to believe it. Someone liked her.

As soon as that happiness was there though, it was chased by another feeling. Her father. He would ruin this; he always ruined everything. She needed to hide it, but wanted desperately not to part with it, stuffing it quickly under her pillow. It was a temporary place, but as long as she was home too, it would work.

It soon became apparent that the blaring of the television from the living room wouldn’t let her sleep. She didn’t want to go back out there, terrified of waking her father up from his drunken stupor, but she couldn’t help herself. After mussing her hair up a little, trying to look disheveled and fresh from bed, Beverly walked out into the living room.

She stepped lightly and gripped the knob, trying to turn the volume down gradually, hoping that the lack of sudden change wouldn’t disturb him. It didn’t work.

“Bevvy?” He sat up fast, red indentions on his face from the blanket thrown over the arm of the couch, his breath smelling strongly of hard liquor. He seemed confused and slightly angry. “When did you get home?”

“I've been home Daddy.” She answered, gesturing to her pajamas. He seemed puzzled by the sight of her bedclothes. “You’ve been drinking. You sent me to my room.”

She could tell he knew that the story didn't quite match up, but was too inebriated to be completely sure. She didn't wait around for him to figure it out, bidding him a goodnight and hurrying to her room. When he didn't follow her, she took it as a good sign.

“Your hair is winter fire.” She murmured to herself, and again a smile grew on her face. A secret admirer. She got quickly into bed, tucking the covers under her chin, holding onto her pillow. The top of her finger touched one of the corners of the postcard and she beamed, a warm ball of happy light swelling in her chest. Beverly nestled her face in her pillow, now excited for the day ahead, and tried to fall asleep.

#myfic #tdogd #it 2017 #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #stanley uris #mike hanlon #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie #reddie fic #benverly #benverly fic

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 7 years ago

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“Our Future”

Dialogue prompts requested by @his-paradox . Not sure if this is what you had in mind hun, but I hope you enjoy it!

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Language, Canon Divergence, Violence

Prompt #12 – “Do it. Take a chance, I’m begging you. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been.”

Prompt #15 – “I can’t stop thinking about the future. About our future. Do we even have one, or should I just move on?

The porch swing moved absently with the breeze while you sat upon it, legs crossed. Two in the morning had come and gone and your boyfriend still wasn’t home yet. It wasn’t the first time he stayed out too late, but it was going to be the last.

You were fed up with waiting on him lately. In the two years, you had been with Daryl Dixon on and off, he had been someone you could count on; till Merle showed up. He’d just been released from jail after a six-month stint for possession and turned up on your porch looking for Daryl.

Within several weeks, Daryl had all but disappeared from your life, leaving you with a string of broken promises and an even bigger broken heart. His call earlier promised he would be by to pick you up and take you out for the night, but he never showed.

The rumbling purr of a motorcycle engine turned on your street, its single headlight directed into your small driveway and came to a stop. Daryl killed the motor and slowly dismounted. You could see he wasn’t exactly drunk, but he wasn’t sober either.

Daryl climbed the steps, and even in the low light of the porch bulb, you could see his eyes were dark with regret.

“Hey,” he said, greeting you meekly, “you’re still up.”

“Mmhmm, thought I had a date tonight. But he never showed,” you looked away, not wanting to lose the anger simmering under the surface.

“Y/N… I’m – I’m sorry. I fucked up… Merle and I were getting’…”

“Daryl, just stop.” You got up from the swing and stood in front of him. Taking a long look at the man who held your heart, you tried to find the words you needed. “I sat here tonight and waited for you. Again. You chose Merle, again. He’s your brother, I get it. But where’s he been the last couple years? Jail or screwin’ his way through northern Georgia…”

“That ain’t fair,” Daryl challenged, “he’s been around for me. All I ever had was Merle.”

“I know, but you have me too. That part you seem to forget.” Your words caused him to wince and cast his eyes to the porch. “Daryl, I sat here tonight… I couldn’t stop thinking about the future. About our future. Do we even have one, or should I just move on?”

“Move on? Why? Cause Merle’s back? So, what… you sayin’ it’s you or Merle?” Daryl’s demeanor changed quickly, his body tense, shoulders pushed back in a defensive stance.

“No, I am asking if I matter to your future,” you knew the second the words left your lips, what his answer was.

“What future?” he asked sarcastically, taking a cigarette from his pack and lighting it. “We ain’t got a future… any of us. Don’t you see what’s startin’ to happen out there? People dyin’ coming back… ain’t no future anymore girl.”

“I saw bits of it, but… it’s… it’s not like it’s the end of the world Daryl. There is a future… and we can have one. A great one,” you begged him, but you could see his face was set in a way that meant he had already made up his mind.

“Look, I came to tell ya me and Merle, we’re takin off… gettin’ outta town before the shit hits. I came to see if you wanted to come.”

“Do you want me too?” you swallowed hard and when he looked away, you had your answer. “Ok then, thanks for coming by Daryl. It’s been fun I guess.”

You couldn’t look at him anymore. Turning towards the house, you walked past him and as you opened the door to enter, he called your name.

“Y/N, I do want you to come…” his voice was soft like it was when the two of you had spent countless hours whispering under the covers. Your heart broke a little more because you knew he partially meant it.

“Maybe… but Merle doesn’t,” you said without turning around. “But I appreciate you trying to convince me you do.”

You let the door close with a bang. The second it was closed you slid down it, quiet sobs wracking your body. Minutes later, the bike’s engine came to life, and Daryl Dixon rode down the street and out of your life.

Daryl was right. The future, as you knew it, got canceled. Over the next year everyone around you faded away, entire neighborhoods and cities fell. You kicked yourself for not going with Daryl, but tried to rationalize it to yourself by reminding your heart how he had stomped on it for Merle… again.

After a few months of moving around, you decided to move further into the woods to try and find shelter. One night a herd got too close and you thought it was the end. Out of nowhere a group of people began shooting them down, saving you from certain death.

The leader called himself the Governor and invited you to live in their community. Within a week, you had settled in but still thought back to the days before the outbreak.

The night Daryl came to your porch still sat in the back of your mind and you couldn’t help but wonder where he was. You knew he’d be alive; he was a survivor after all. Pushing him from your mind, you tried to focus on your life new in the new community.

It was only a day or two later that you thought you saw Merle for the first time. Walking down Main Street in Woodbury, you saw someone him from behind and chuckled to yourself how much he looked like Merle.

When he turned around, you stopped dead in your tracks. His head thrown back and laughing at something the Governor said, Merle Dixon stood before you, bigger than life. Daryl’s face popped in your head again, and you slowly made your way towards Merle.

“Merle?” your voice cracked? “Merle Dixon?”

“Yes sweetheart?” he turned to look at you but didn’t seem to recognize your face. “What can I do for ya?”

You were floored he didn’t recognize you considering he’d lived on your couch for weeks when you first met Daryl. “Merle… it's Y/N… you don’t…?”

“Holy shit… I remember you now. You were the one my little brother was shackin’ up with way back when weren’t ya?”

“Um, yeah… I guess you could say that…”

“Any chance you’ve seen my baby brother around? Been lookin’ for him since we got separated near Atlanta,” his eyes narrowed on you making you incredibly uncomfortable.

“No, I was hoping – No. I haven’t seen him since before. He said the two of you were leaving town before shit got bad.”

“We did. Got separated when our group cuffed me to a roof and left me for dead,” Merle licked his lips and slowly looked you up and down. “But, uh, maybe you and me can go off together and try’in find ‘em?”

“Merle,” the Governor spoke up, “We have better things to be doin’ today. Don’t you remember about tonight?”

Merle’s attention was back to his boss and thankfully off you. Merle turned back to you, rubbing a hand over his stubbled chin.

“Listen, sweetheart, why don’t you go off and make sure you got yourself a cold drink. The festivities will be kicking off this evening and you don’t want to miss out on a front row seat!”

The Governor put an arm around Merle’s shoulder and led him away before he could say anything more.

You walked back to your small room and closed the door behind you. Once inside, you found yourself on the floor, head in hands and Daryl’s face in your mind’s eye. Finally picking yourself up, you went to your bed and laid down, sleep finding you in minutes.

Hours later, gunfire had erupted on the streets waking you in a panic. Looking down from your window, you saw a group of people laying down an assault on the main drag of your home. Running out into the thick of the fight, you looked around for a way to help but smoke was filling the streets making it hard to see who was firing at who.

Sprinting down Main Street, you turned left around a corner and for the second time, that day came to a dead stop. In front of you, three unfamiliar faces stood, guns pointed at your face. The taller, stubbled man with the piercing blue eyes was in front, behind him were two women. One with long dreads carrying Katana and another younger woman with short brown hair. All their weapons were on you.

“Stop!” The man said, his pistol aimed at your head. “We don’t want to kill you.”

“I’m not armed! I just… what’s happening?! Please, I am just trying to survive here…” you begged, panicked and afraid for your life.

Passing several glances between the three of them, the women lowered their weapons, but the man did not.

“Where’s the Governor?” he asked, his thick drawl oozing with hatred, gun still firmly planted at your forehead.

“I – I don’t know… he’s…,” you turned and pointed behind you. When you turned back around, you saw another man coming out of one of the storefronts. His back was to you, but you knew it was Daryl the second his frame came into view.

“Rick… we really gotta…” his eyes grew wide in shock as he saw your face. Daryl pushed through the women towards you and saw Rick’s gun in your face.

“What the fuck man, put that shit down,” he knocked Rick’s hand down and put his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N? Holy shit,” Daryl grabbed you and held you tightly. Bullets started whizzing by your heads, breaking the slow motion feeling of the moment. “C’mon!” Daryl shouted and pulled you into the storefront he just exited, his friends following closely.

Once inside, everyone moved to the back of the store, except Daryl, who never let his grip on you go. Rick was flanking his side, not willing to move.

“Daryl?” you squeaked. You didn’t know if this was real or a dream. Your hand reached up to touch his face. The second you felt his skin under yours, you knew it was really him.

Nearly knocking him over, you leaped into his arms out of sheer relief that he was alive.

“You know her?” Rick asked Daryl, his brow furrowed in confusion. “How?”

Daryl pulled back from you and brushed your hair back from your face. “We used to be together… before.”

Surprised registered on all their faces, but the gunfire blazing outside grew closer and brought their attention back to the problem at hand.

“Daryl, we need to go,” one of the women said. “Glenn is waitin’ for us.”

“Y/N, I don’t even… I mean, this is nuts. But she’s right, we gotta go,” he grabbed your hand and you pulled away.

“No, I… I live here now. Daryl… Merle is here…”

Daryl froze, his eyes wide. “What?”

“Mmhmm, I’ve only been here a week, saw him the other day. He’s the Governor’s right-hand man… He’s one of the ones you’re shooting at!”

“Listen to me, this guy, this Governor kidnapped my friends, beat one of ‘em almost to death. You can’t stay here, come with me.”

“What about Merle? Don’t you wanna find him? I mean, he’s your brother… right?”

Despite the circumstances, you could feel your anger burning at past events. You still felt love for Daryl, but knowing he walked away from you before because of his brother didn’t make feeling all that love so easy.

“I wanna see Merle, I do. But finding you again,” he paused and looked at Rick who was beginning to seem impatient. “Just give me a minute man…”

Rick walked back towards the women mumbling under his breath and shaking his head. Daryl brought his attention back to you and could see the hurt on your face.

“I shouldn’ta walked away before. I shoulda made you come with me. But listen, please, don’t make the same mistake ok? Trust me… Do it. Take a chance, I’m begging you. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life wonderin’ what coulda been… like I’ve been doin’.”

You were taken aback by his words. But before you could answer, voices from outside were getting louder and Rick grabbed Daryl’s shoulder.

“We’re goin’, C'mon,” he dragged Daryl towards the back door and left you standing there.

Shaking free of him, Daryl took your hand in his. “Just come with me, darlin’, please… we can work shit out later,” his eyes pleading with you.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded hesitantly, but it was all Daryl needed to pull you to the back door and out towards freedom. Once outside, Daryl drug you along as you weaved through the buildings towards the back of the community. One by one the other women climbed the fence, just as Daryl was boosting you up, you heard his voice from behind.

“Hey!” Merle shouted, “What the hell?”

Turning around you saw Merle’s weapon slowly lowering as his brother’s presence became clear to him. “Daryl?” he asked, his voice low over the sound of distant gunfire.

Daryl turned and saw his brother. For a moment you were sure he would run and embrace Merle, leaving you again.

You watched as Daryl stalked towards him, his hands starting to ball into fists. The smile that had grown on Merle’s face disappeared quickly, as Daryl’s right hook connected with Merle’s jaw.

Falling to the ground, Merle took a moment, then quickly got back up on his feet. “Well, well now baby brother, how’s that for a greeting?”

“What the fuck’s your problem? You stupid piece of shit… What the hell you doin’ here with that lunatic? And her? Y/N’s here? You knew how long I was lookin’ for her after the outbreak…”

“Daryl, I just found her, I swear and now you! We can make it all work out brother…”

“No! I ain’t listenin’ to you no more. You were the one who convinced me to leave her behind in the first place…” Daryl’s voice trailed off as the gunfire died down. “Now… I’m goin’ home, with my family.”

Stalking away from Merle, Daryl grabbed your hand and helped you up to where Rick stood. As he lifted you up on the hood of the bus, Merle called Daryl’s name again.

“I’ll come back and deal with you later,” Daryl growled at him. “Right now, I am doin’ what I shoulda done back then.”

Leaving his brother behind, Daryl didn’t let go of you until you were back at their vehicle. No one said a word to you, nor you to them. Once at the car, the others left you and Daryl to have a moment alone.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, his voice low and dripping in regret.

“I should’ve left with you that night,” you mumbled, unable to meet his gaze.

“I shoulda made you,” Daryl lifted your chin with his fingers and carefully leaned towards you. Barely brushing his lips against yours he whispered, “forgive me?”

“Yes,” the word fell from your lips just as he was finally pressing his to yours. Kissing Daryl again was everything you remembered. The time you were apart fell away and you found the sensation of love you still carried for him making its way through you and they were invoked, you never wanted them gone again.

Part 2 with new prompt...

Tags for fun: @srj1990 @soythedemonqueen @jodiereedus22 @kazosa @buckyscrystalqueen @reedusteinrambles @lefthologramdeer @aquivercactus @rhyatt-deauxtreve @his-paradox @adixon13 @kingdixonreedus @see-you-then-winchester @redm81

#daryl dixon drabble #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fan fic #fan fiction #twd fan fiction #dialogue prompt challenge

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ourlady-ofsorrows · 4 years ago

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A Shot Across The Bow

(gif credit to the creators)

Part 10 - When It Rains

Masterlist

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OFC Word Count: 1,867 Warnings: language, smoking, underage drinking A/N: So glad I’m writing this again! Part of my goals for 2017 is to be better about posting on this blog and I fully plan to stick to that! Title/song is When It Rains by Paramore. I hope you guys enjoy it! If you want to be tagged, let me know. Also, feedback is cool :)

Caroline’s POV

It was like a switch had flipped after Daryl broke up with me. I didn’t know how to handle what was happening, I was in shock. I was so sure that everything would be fine between the two of us if I just ended it with Shane and instead everything came crashing down around me. So, I dealt with it the only way I knew how. I drank. I drank a lot.

I spent most nights at the bar when I knew Jake was working, knowing he would serve me without a question, and when he wasn’t working I went to the only liquor store in town that didn’t card. I had missed so many of my open mic nights that they were threatening to take me off the bill, but at this point I didn’t care. Michonne was starting to really worry about me along with Lori and Rick, well; he didn’t really seem to notice.

“You need to put the fucking bottle down and write something,” Michonne said, snatching the bottle from my hand, “I’m not letting you lose your shot at playing shows because of some redneck dirtbag.”

“He’s not a dirtbag,” I slurred, reaching for the bottle.

“No, you’re not getting this back until you sober the fuck up and write something,” she scolded.

I knew she was hoping that if I sobered up and wrote something I wouldn’t want to drink anymore and under normal circumstances that would have worked, but right now the only reason I was picking up my guitar and notebook was because I wanted the bottle back as quickly as possible.

Once the guitar was in my hands things seemed to finally make sense again. Michonne was right; I needed this more than I thought I did. I spent the next few hours writing my heart out as Michonne studied for her upcoming finals. It was after dark when I finally finished and I had to say I was glad she forced me to do it.

“I’m gonna stop by the bar on my way home and tell Jake to put you on the bill for tomorrow night,” Michonne said as she went to leave.

I thanked her for doing that and once I heard the front door close I grabbed for the bottle of whiskey again. She may have convinced me to sit down and write a song but that didn’t mean I wasn’t still hurting and I needed something to numb the pain.

I fell asleep not too long later, too drunk and exhausted to stay awake any longer.

The next morning I woke up with a killer hangover and instead of doing the responsible thing and having a glass of water I cracked open another bottle of whiskey. Nothing like a little hair of the dog to take the edge off, I thought to myself as the liquid burned my throat. I spent most of the day drinking and lounging around the house, doing absolutely nothing to be productive.

As it neared time for my sound check I knew I had to get up and get dressed. Michonne would kill me if I missed another open mic night. With a sigh I took one last swig from the whiskey bottle and pulled on my leather jacket. After grabbing my guitar I walked down the stairs, told my parents I would be back after my set, and tossed it into the bed of my truck. I pulled a cigarette from my pack and lit it just as Rick was pulling up to the house.

“Finally playing again?” he asked, walking toward me.

I just nodded at him, not trusting myself not to slur if I spoke. If he knew how much I’d had to drink he would offer to drive me to the bar and that was the absolute last thing I needed.

“Good,” he smiled, “maybe I’ll stop by later if Lori doesn’t have anything planned for us.”

I nodded again and climbed into the cab of the truck. I waited until Rick was inside before I pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the bar. I had gotten so good at driving drunk over the past two weeks that it didn’t surprise me that I’d made it to the bar in one piece. I parked my truck and made my way inside for sound check. As soon as that was over I walked toward the bar where Jake had a shot ready for me. I downed the liquid quickly and left the money on the counter before walking back outside for another cigarette.

I sat in the bed of my truck and watched the parking lot as I smoked. I was waiting for Michonne to arrive but I wasn’t looking for her. I was looking for Daryl. Part of the reason I had been skipping out on open mic nights was because I didn’t want to run into him but now that I was actually here I was hoping more than anything that he would show up.

My eyes kept drifting from the entrance of the parking lot to the spot where Daryl’s friend’s bikes were always parked. It didn’t make much of a difference though. He wasn’t outside with the group and he wasn’t pulling into the lot. I had given up hope that he was going to be there as soon as Michonne pulled in and parked next to me.

“Glad you actually showed up,” she said as I hopped out of the truck bed, “not surprised to see that you’re drunk though. Think you’ll actually be able to perform?”

“I’ll be fine,” I sighed.

“If you say so,” Michonne rolled her eyes, grabbing my hand.

She pulled me into the bar and Jake slid us each a drink as we watched the band performing before me play. As soon as they were finished I downed the rest of my drink and made my way to the stage. I wasted no time in setting up my guitar and adjusting the microphone. Without even introducing myself or the song I started to play.

And when it rains on this side of town

It touches everything

Just say it again and mean it

The second I started to sing I sobered up. The adrenaline coursing through my veins from performing gave me a new purpose.

We don’t miss a thing

You made yourself a bed at the bottom

Of the blackest hole (Blackest hole)

And convinced yourself

That it’s not the reason you don’t see the sun anymore

My eyes landed on the door and I saw Daryl walk in, a blonde girl gripping his arm.

And no, oh

How could you do it?

Oh, I

I never saw it coming

I could practically feel my heart breaking.

No, oh

I need an ending

So why can’t you stay

Just long enough to explain?

My eyes flitted to Michonne who looked more than shocked.

And when it rains, you always find an escape

Just running away

From all of the ones who love you

From everything

My eyes followed Daryl and the mystery girl as they walked up to the bar and ordered drinks.

You made yourself a bed at the bottom

Of the blackest hole (Blackest hole)

And you’ll sleep till May

You’ll say that you don’t wanna see the sun anymore

He downed a shot and the girl said something to him.

And no, oh

How could you do it?

Oh, I

I never saw it coming

He smiled at her and turned toward the stage.

No, oh

I need an ending

So why can’t you stay

Just long enough to explain?

I could feel my eyes starting to burn from the tears that were threatening to fall.

Take these chances to turn it around

Let’s take these chances we’ll make it somehow

And take these chances and turn it around

Just turn it around

I willed them away and forced myself to continue the song. Hoping that he understood that it was about him.

How could you do it?

Oh, I

I never saw it coming

He watched me as the girl tried to get his attention.

No, oh

How could you do it?

Oh, I

I never saw it coming

He continued to ignore her and locked eyes with me.

No, oh

How could you do it?

Oh, I

I never saw it coming

He finally turned his attention back to her.

No, oh

I need an ending

So why can’t you stay

Just long enough to explain?

He ordered another shot and downed the liquid quickly.

You can take your time, take my time

As I finished out the last of the song he turned back to the woman he was with and pulled her in for a kiss. There was no use in staying on the stage any longer. I knew I didn’t have it in me. I thanked the audience and put my guitar back in it’s case before making my way back over toward the bar.

Michonne went to say something but I stopped her. I ordered another drink and downed it as quickly as possible. I motioned for another as Daryl walked past me with his new girlfriend. I finished the next drink as quickly as I had finished the first and paid my tab. Without another word to Michonne I grabbed my guitar and stormed outside.

I tossed the guitar into the bed of my truck and pulled out a cigarette. I lit it with shaky hands as the tears started to fall. I was pissed at myself for letting this get to me. I took a long drag from my cigarette and exhaled the smoke as I furiously wiped the tears from my face. As I went to take another drag I saw Daryl walk out of the bar, alone.

I watched as he placed a cigarette between his lips and light it. With newfound courage I made my way over to him.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

“What?” he questioned, an amused smirk on his face.

“Don’t ‘what’ me, Daryl,” I spat, “who the fuck was that girl?”

“Who? Sarah?” he said, feigning confusion, “Just some chick. No one special.”

I was furious. Every emotion I’d been feeling since he’d ended things with me two weeks ago was finally coming to the surface. I felt a fresh wave of tears coming and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

“Well, you seem to move on quick, don’t ya?” I scoffed.

“Nothin’ to move on from, Linney,” he stated, taking a drag of his cigarette, “there ain’t nothin’ between us.”

“What about what we had?” I questioned.

“It was just sex,” he shrugged, dropping his cigarette on the ground.

“It was not just sex and you know it,” I seethed.

He just shrugged before putting his cigarette out with the toe of his boot and walking back into the bar. I wasn’t sure how to feel. So instead of thinking about it I lit another cigarette and climbed into my truck. I was more than ready to get back home and continue to drink myself into oblivion.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic

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anactualcaseofthetruth · 7 years ago

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Call Me A Safe Bet, I'm Betting I'm Not - Chapter 2

(AO3 Link- Chapter Two)

“Even though scientists are still quite baffled after multiple millennia of medical and technological advances of exactly how the soulmarks work, there has been enough research and study that we now know when and how to expect them… There has yet to be one soulmate coupling occur before the female has experienced a menstrual cycle and the male to begin producing sperm. In short, soulmarks have never appeared before entering puberty…

There are many, many more cases in which two people have insisted they are soulmates only to not mark with one another. All in all, only about 3% of couplings are correct in predicting they are soulmates before marks form.”

***

Betty Cooper is four years old when she meets Jughead Jones. She knows he is her soulmate, he’s not so sure.

Chapter Two

“As with mostly everything relating to soulmarks, there is no science behind where they are formed, what shape they take, and why. There are theories, of course, and myths different people choose to believe depending on where their own mark is… The common myth most believe is ‘the closer to the heart, the stronger the bond’ when it comes to where the mark is on the body.

In numerous surveys done over the years it has been found that soulmates can come up with some sort of reasoning as to what their mark resembles in their lives. For example, one couple’s mark strongly resembled a bird as if painted by an impressionist and the two met at the local aviary.”

From Myths and Mysteries Surrounding Soulmarks, 2010

Initially, it surprises even Betty that she enjoys working on cars with her dad. Her dad is real grease monkey, one of those guys who think ‘why pay someone else to do something when I can learn to do it myself?’. So when it becomes clear that Betty was very much like her mother in the way that she does what she wants, and does not like ballet, Hal suggests he get her interested in cars. ‘It’s a good life skill, Alice,’ he repeats over and over until her mother lets them give it a shot.

It fascinates Betty, learning how everything works, being able to fix something so broken, and she doesn’t try to think about what kind of metaphor that means for her life.

At thirteen, everything is becoming very real for her and Jughead, sort of. She hasn’t gotten her first period yet, so it is pretty much a waiting game, but in the mean time they have fun, do thirteen-year-old things, or in Jughead’s case, fourteen.

They go to the drive-in on the weekends, Archie too, of course, and a few others, but her and Jughead always snuggle under one blanket. Sometimes she sits between his legs with his arms around her, other times she is practically in his lap, but that’s usually when it’s a scary movie. When they go to Pop Tate’s he holds her hand under the booth, but her favorite is when he plays with her fingers and draws doodles on her palms. It gives her goosebumps and makes her feel floaty.

One thing they really haven’t done is kiss, and it annoys her to no end. Sure, they kiss each other’s cheeks and stuff, maybe even a peck or two on the lips, but they still haven’t kissed yet and—Betty’s father was right, she is a lot like her mother, so that means she knows when to push and when to let it be.

With this, with Jughead, she lets it be because she understands why he is hesitant. His parents are an unnatural couple, he is an unnatural child, the statistics of unnatural children finding a soulmate drop little by little every year. She can tell him she knows he is hers until she’s blue in the face, but he needs the mark, he wants it so badly, and she can’t convince him with just words. So, she waits for the mark, she knows she should be getting her period soon, Polly did around her age, and when she does she’s going to walk up to Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third and kiss him fully on the lips, a real kiss not just a peck, and their marks will form and she will do a dance around him screaming ‘I told you so’ between not being able to stop kissing him, she thinks.

That is where Jughead finds her, in the garage, her head bent under the hood of the newest old car her dad wants to fix up, thinking about kissing him, really kissing him.

“Betty!”

She turns at the sound of her favorite nine-year-old girl in time to see Jughead riding up on his bike, Jellybean standing on the pegs installed on the back wheels, her hands gripping his shoulders. Betty wipes off her hands as the little ball of energy runs up to her, talking a mile a minute.

“What’s up?” she asks as Jughead drops his bike and makes his way to her. “You rode your bike all the way here? That’s, like, a thirty-minute ride. Is everything okay?”

“Jelly, can you—“

“Beat it? Only for a minute, you never let me spend time with you and Betty! You always want her to yourself,” Jellybean responds as she skips off to tinker with some old toys of Betty and Polly’s in the back of the garage.

“Hi,” Betty greets, pushing up onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Can you watch her for a couple hours? I have to go,” he says in hurried, hushed tones. “Mrs. Hannigan at the trailer park wasn’t home, and you’re the only one I trust with her besides Mrs. H and—“

“Of course, Jug, but what’s going on?”

“I—I don’t have time to explain right now, but,” he looks to make sure Jellybean isn’t paying attention. “I picked Jellybean up from a sleepover and when we got home,” he stops and is already making his way back to his bike so Betty follows.

“What?”

“My parents were going at it again, this time it’s bad. I have to get home and make sure they don’t kill each other or someone calls the cops,” he tells her while putting his helmet back on.

“Jug,” Betty whispers, grabbing his hand. “If it’s bad maybe you should stay too, let them sort it out. You’re just a kid, you shouldn’t be the one—“

“Betty, please don’t do this,” he pleads while getting on his bike now, forcing an end to the conversation. “They’re my parents, and—“ he stops and takes her hand again, this time squeezing it and leans forward to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be back for her later, okay? Thank you, so much,” he murmurs before taking off, peddling faster than she has ever seen.

Not a second later Jellybean is at her side, scaring her. “Bean! Don’t do that!” Betty scolds.

“Sorry,” the younger girl apologizes sheepishly. “Can we do makeovers? And watch a movie? Can I pick? Jug never lets me pick the movie, and my mom said if I steal her makeup one more time—“

“Yes, Bean, to all of it,” Betty interrupts, smiling at the girl’s excitement and energy.

It’s because of Jughead that Jellybean has any sense of childhood, still has some innocence and hope. He takes care of her in every way, makes sure she goes to school, helps with her homework, calls Betty if he’s confused about something, takes on odd jobs around the trailer park to make money so he can take her out to eat once in a while, has lunch money, and can do things with her friends.

FP’s been skipping around from job to job for years now, getting sober every time Gladys threatens to take the kids, then falls off the wagon once she starts to trust him again. She hasn’t had a steady job either, her own drinking getting in the way, but insists it’s FP’s fault, then somehow manages to fall under his spell when he’s sober and think everything will be okay.

Betty doesn’t comment on it, because Jughead is like his mother in that way. Every time FP gets sober Jughead is so happy, so willing to believe this time will be different, then climbs through her window at night after his father comes home falling down drunk, after cleaning him up and getting rid of the mess, so his mother and little sister won’t have to, but he can’t face what he’s done and so he takes solace in Betty.

Jughead hates that he helps hide FP’s drinking, that he makes his father seem better than he is in his mother and sister’s eyes, that he still has hope his father will turn everything around, if not for him, then for Jellybean.

She watches as the boy she loves breaks off pieces of himself for his family to try and fit into their own empty spots, and then can’t stop watching as those pieces don’t fit and his parents just toss them aside, holding their hands out for more. It kills her.

Betty tries not to overthink it, his parents fight all the time, he’s always putting himself in the middle to mediate, and there is nothing she can do about it, not right now. So she lets Jellybean take her by the hand and lead her into the house. They raid Polly’s vanity and sneak into the attic to steal the colored hairspray from Halloween. Betty makes sure Jellybean has fun and doesn’t worry about her parents at all.

After all, why should she worry? Her big brother is handling it.

Hours later Betty honestly doesn’t know how Jughead does it all.

He goes to school, splits his time between her and Archie (and they make sure to spend time all together), practically parents his little sister, works around the trailer park, and still manages to be on top of whatever is going on with his parents to diffuse the situation.

After a couple hours with Jellybean, Betty is beat. Of course, it doesn’t help that she had been woken up at the crack of dawn by Polly to go jogging—Polly is now in high school and on the River Vixens, where working out is not just a suggestion. Alice is very pleased her daughters are taking an active approach to their health, but it is not Betty’s idea of fun to get up early on Saturday to do anything except make sure Jughead scales down the side of her house safely and isn’t found by her parents.

Jellybean was invited for dinner as she was already there, and not inviting her would look very bad on Alice Cooper, and Betty was once again reminded how alike the little girl and Jughead are. They have bottomless stomachs, but with Jellybean it’s somehow endearing, whereas with Jughead she finds it a little disgusting just how much he can eat, and he’ll literally eat anything.

By the end of the night parts of Jellybean’s hair are blue, her eyeshadow matches, and Betty learns all about third grade, who is who, what is cool, and that too many of Jellybean’s friends are starting to think Jughead is cute, but Betty doesn’t need to worry because she tells them her brother is very much taken.

It’s nearing the end of their second movie when headlights burst through the window and Betty turns to look. It appears to be Jughead’s mom’s van, and Betty wiggles out from underneath a sleeping Jellybean to go make sure. Jellybean wakes much like Jughead—not well—so she doesn’t want to poke the beast too soon.

When she makes it outside she finds Jughead and Gladys arguing just outside the van.

“Jughead, baby, please see this from my side—“

“No!” Jughead cuts his mother off. “I have been in the middle of the two of you my entire life. It’s always been me cleaning up after your messes, me hiding what you do from Jellybean, me pretending everything is always okay when it never is. I have been in the middle of your marriage since I was born, and this time, this time I am not going to be in the middle picking up the pieces, this one is all on you.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, I am still your mother—“

“Since when?” Jughead interrupts once again, and Betty can see the anger in his shoulders. “You blame him for everything—he’s the reason you drink, he’s the reason we moved to the trailer park, he’s the reason you dropped out of high school, you have never taken responsibility for anything that’s gone wrong, and you know it. It’s easier to blame him than it is to blame me, isn’t it?”

“Jughead, don’t, you know—“

“But I’m the real reason for all of it, Mom,” Jughead continues on, “I’m the reason you were forced to drop out of school, I’m the reason you married him, and Jellybean is the reason you stayed married to him, and now you have an out for all of it, don’t you?”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, you have to know that, Jughead. Please, just listen to me,” his mother pleads while cupping his cheeks, but he shakes her off and steps back.

“It’s too late, and I don’t even care about what it means for me,” Jughead tells her. “I hope you’re happy, I hope that your soulmate gives you everything my father never could,” he says and Betty’s eyes widen. “I hope he takes care of you the way my dad never could, I hope he helps you stop drinking, I hope he makes you remember everything you wanted out of life before me and Jellybean came along. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m raised, and I did it myself because I had to be there for Jellybean. I raised her, she’s smart and she’s strong and she’s beautiful, I did that, okay? Me, I’ve known you and dad were on borrowed time since I was born, but her? She has no idea, and when this breaks her heart you will be the one to explain to her what is going on. You have to be the one to tell her that you’re leaving dad, that you got a soulmark and decided that it was more important than the family you already had, more important than her.”

By now Gladys’s eyes are watering and she is staring at her son like she already lost him. “Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Mom,” Jughead replies, his voice softer now. “I hate the way you handled this. I hate how you let Dad find out about him, I hate that this is going to tear my little sister apart, but I hope you get better. I hope you go back to the mom I had once, I hope you do that for Jellybean and that he helps you do that. I can forgive you for almost anything Mom, but if you go be with him and keep drinking and you let this hurt Jellybean more than it has to… I won’t be able to forgive that.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” Gladys insists earnestly. “I’m—I’m already getting help, Jug, I’m in AA and Billy… he’s good for me, Jug, in a way that you father never was.”

Jughead takes another step back. “Good, I hope he is, I hope he’s everything we could never give you,” he whispers, and then turns to face Betty. “She sleeping?”

Betty simply nods and Jughead walks past her without another word to go get his sister.

“Betty,” suddenly Gladys is in front of her, her hands gripping Betty’s. “Please help him through this. Please, you’ll understand one day, one day when you get a mark and it’s not Jughead—“

“No,” Betty rips her hands away. “I love Jughead, and if we don’t get marks, if we’re not soulmates, then that right there is our mark. We won’t have them together. I would never do this to him,” she tells her and then hears Jughead coming down her porch steps.

He has Jellybean in his arms, she’s cuddled into him like a koala and she’s getting big so he’s struggling under her weight. “Door,” he mouths and Betty opens the sliding car door for him.

“Jug?” Jellybean groans sleepily.

“You’re going home, Jelly, okay?” he tells her as he buckles her in because she’s completely useless when she’s sleepy, just like he is.

“You’re not coming?” she asks.

“No, I,” he stops and looks back at Betty. “I’m sleeping over Archie’s, okay? But I’ll be home when you wake up, I promise.”

“Okay. Love you, big head,” she mutters, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Love you too, peanut butter,” he responds and closes the door as quietly as he can.

“Jughead-” Gladys starts.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find him,” he answers before she can even ask. “He’s too angry right now. I have to wait until he’ll be too drunk to fight me. I’ll be home in the morning to help you pack,” he says before turning and grabs Betty’s hand as he passes, not giving his mother another look.

He leads her to Archie’s garage that has recently been made into a gym of sorts as Archie gets more and more into sports. It’s equipped with a couch and mini fridge so Jughead jokes it’s his room. He doesn’t bother to turn on the light and just collapses on the old fold-out.

His eyes are full of pain and anger, and all Betty wants to do is hold him until it all goes away, but knows that’s impossible.

“She got a soulmate?” Betty asks tentatively, to which he nods. “How long?”

“I don’t know, a couple months? She’s been keeping it a secret, didn’t know what to do about it, was caught up in it, I don’t know, other bullshit like that. She didn’t even tell my dad, the guy came over ‘cause he hadn’t heard from my mom and was worried my dad did something. My dad is a lot of things, Betty, he’s a drunk, he can’t hold a job, he can never finish what he starts, but he would never hurt my mom, not like that.”

“I know, I know he wouldn’t,” Betty agrees. “She’s moving out?”

Jughead nods again. “He’s invited the three of us to move into his condo, it’s very exciting, his building has a pool.”

“Juggie,” Betty whispers getting on her knees next to him, her knuckles brushing down the side of his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not moving in with him,” Jughead states. “I won’t. You should have seen my dad, Betts, he looked so broken,” he says while leaning his face into her hand. “Through everything, through all his faults, and all of hers, he still loves her. He doesn’t care about marks, he said he didn’t need them, and I know he’s not perfect, but that’s always something I admired about him.”

“I’m here for you, Juggie, whatever you need,” she tells him and rests her forehead on the side of his, her nose nuzzling his hair.

“I don’t—I’m sick of talking about it honestly,” he admits and relaxes into her, his head falling back to the couch.

“Okay, we can talk about something else if you want. I’m good at talking, to you at least,” Betty says cheerfully and he looks at her with an eyebrow raised. “Too much? Alright, I can be monotone, I can be one of the guys. How do you like the new GTA?” she asks in a low, unusual voice.

Jughead’s lips almost form a smile. “Or, you can be you and we can just not talk about my parents,” he suggests.

“What, you didn’t like my Archie impersonation?”

“Not at all, so to try and change the subject again, thank you for looking after Jelly today, I know she can be a pain—“

“Shut up, Jughead Jones. I love Jellybean like a sister, she’s fun and crazy and now I know everything about that horrible girl Bridget, we hate her,” Betty continues on and stretches her legs out over Jughead’s as he chuckled. “And Charlie, short for Charlotte, has a huge crush on you so we’re not sure if we should hang out with her for a while, you know, until she gets over it. Jellybean tried telling her how stupid you are, but it didn’t work.”

“What?” Jughead actually laughs and she wants to dance at the victory.

“I say Charlie, short for Charlotte, because before I asked I thought some little boy-friend of hers thought you were cute, but alas, it’s a girl. Don’t worry, Jellybean told her you’re already smitten with another, and apparently she’s really pretty and you’re so into her that you don’t even notice other girls.”

“Is that so?”

“I know, I find it hard to believe too. A stud like you not noticing other girls? She must be something really special.”

Jughead takes both of her hands in his and kisses them gently. “She’s definitely one of a kind.”

“Mhm, Jellybean also says that she overheard you and Archie talking one time about her lips and she wants to know what that is all about.”

“I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jughead responds, his voice cracking a little.

“You don’t? Remember that one time you took Jellybean to the mall and she went to the movies, and you told her to meet you at the arcade when she was done? Well, she eavesdropped on you a little bit. She said you two were playing some racing game and Archie was talking about some girl’s boobs and you said that liking the obvious was too easy, that beauty is in the specifics, and that is when you mentioned my lips. Bean said that it was getting too weird for her around then, so that’s when she pounced on you, making you lose the game and Archie gloat all night.”

“Wha—uhm, she told you that?” he asks in a low breath. “No, wait, she overheard that? Shit.”

“I think she’ll survive hearing Archie talk about some girl’s boobs. Have you seen him check out a girl? He’s not very subtle. His soulmate better show up sooner rather than later because he is becoming far too curious.”

“That’s for sure,” Jughead agrees.

“Now back to what you were saying about me. You think I’m beautiful? You like my lips?”

Jughead shifts so he’s facing her more. “Betty… you don’t-” he starts and fiddles with her fingers. “You don’t know that I think you’re beautiful?”

“Well, I, I think you do, but you’ve never said it, and I’m not saying you have to say it now,” she insists. “I’m not fishing for compliments or anything, it’s just when Jellybean said it, I don’t know, it made me feel warm and, I don’t know, nice, I guess.”

“Betty, I,” he stops and cups her cheek, “I think that you’re the most amazing person on the entire planet, but if you say that to Jellybean I’ll deny it,” he says and Betty does her best to not giggle like a school girl. “It’s not looks that matter, not really, it’s about how you… you’re always there for me, and I know I’m not easy to be there for. You don’t judge my family, you love my sister as your own, you’re the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing before I fall asleep. The thoughts are drastically different, you know, morning and night, but it’s still all about you. The fact that you’re beautiful? That’s just icing on the cake for me, you know? And if you don’t know that, then I don’t think I’m doing my part in this whole thing.”

“Jug,” Betty whispers and kisses the inside of his palm. “You’re really good with words, you know that? Like, wow, keep reading because the effects are really working for you.”

Jughead smiles. “Thanks.”

“Thank you for saying all that, it means so much to me. I told you I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, but it was even better hearing it from you than through Jellybean.”

“I need to talk to her about eavesdropping, it seems.”

“Oh, don’t tell on me. Snitches get stitches, dude.”

Jughead smiles again and his hand moves down to cup her jawline and his thumb sweeps across her cheek. “Never call me dude, and you’re not allowed to hang out with her for at least another month, she’s not a good influence on you.”

“Try and stop me, Jones, I dare you,” she murmurs, her breath catching in the back of her throat. She can feel him leaning in and despite her better judgement her eyes flutter closed, and suddenly he’s kissing her like he never would before.

This isn’t just a peck or something innocent, and while it’s little uncoordinated because neither of them have done it before, it’s still wonderful. Betty grips onto his shirt to keep him close as he leads their lips, going slow and tentative to see what works and what doesn’t feel right.

Betty wants to enjoy it, and she does, but—

“Jug,” she pulls away and makes a point to put her hands on his chest to keep him at a distance.

“What?” he asks, his eyes glassy and chest heaving.

“I—you have no idea how much I want this, how much I’ve wanted to do this, but,” she leans back to get even more space between them. “Not like this, not as a distraction because of—” she stops and immediately feels awful when his face drops. “I don’t want the first time we kiss, and I mean really kiss, to be to keep our minds of something else. I want it to be the main event, you know?”

“Right,” Jughead sighs and stands, reaching for his forgotten hat and fixes his shirt.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean—we can stay here for a while. My mom won’t be looking for me yet.”

“No, it’s okay, I should be looking for my dad anyways, and I have to walk to the Southside so,” he makes his way to the door, but Betty stays sitting. “You coming?”

“I just ruined it, didn’t I?”

“Betty,” Jughead starts and lets out a long breath. “No, you’re right, I don’t want it to be like that either. I want us to do it the right way.”

“When we have marks, you mean,” Betty corrects him. “It’s because of the marks you won’t call us going out dating, or me your girlfriend, or even kiss me like this.”

“Hey, I was just fine with what we were doing, you stopped it, not me,” he reminds her.

“And you just agreed that it was the right thing to do! Unless you were lying to me,” she challenges and stands herself with arms crossed over her chest.

He scrubs his hands down his face. “Betty, do we really have to get into this right now? And tonight, of all nights, after what I went through today?”

“No, you’re right, we should just ignore it until I finally get my period and let that decide for us. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” she questions.

“Betty, not now, not today, please,” he pleads quietly.

She softens and hates herself because he’s right, she shouldn’t do this tonight. It just feels so good to finally say what she’s been feeling that it got ahead of her. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

Jughead simply nods and plays with the door handle to the garage. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” he volunteers. “It’s a bit out of my way, but I think I can manage.”

Betty rolls her eyes at him and takes his hand as he offers it, her free arm wrapping around his that is encased in her hand. “I hate that you have to do this, you know.”

“Walk you home? I know, it’s a tough neighborhood,” he agrees and she pushes on his shoulder.

“Don’t joke, Jug, this is serious,” she tells him. “Just sleep over Archie’s house tonight, you know he wouldn’t say no. You shouldn’t have to go searching bars for your dad or take care of him like this. You’re only fourteen.”

“Don’t worry, by the time I find him he won’t put up much of a fight. It’ll be easy to get him home and passed out on the couch. I’ve done it a million times before.”

They stop in front of her door and Betty shakes her head. “I hate this, I hate how you just think this is normal. It kills me,” she whispers.

“Betty, this is my life, this is my normal, this is just how it is,” he tells her and leans in to kiss her cheek. “I hate that it hurts you, but it doesn’t affect me anymore, so it’d be easier if you just accept it too.”

Betty looks him in the eye. “Never. You deserve better.”

“Too bad, this is what I got. Don’t count on much from me tomorrow. With Mom and Jellybean moving out my dad’s going to be out of his mind and I have to help it happen as painless as possible,” he says and chuckles at that. “Funny choice of words, huh? I’ll call when it at settles, if it does.”

“Let me know if you need anything, okay? Help packing or unpacking or to just get out of there, even if you just want me to sit next to you and not say anything at all,” she orders.

“Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m a pro at this by now,” he reminds her and she huffs. “I know, you hate it, you tell me all the time, but it’s true.”

“If you want me to stop nagging you about it, it’s not going to happen, not until you see how much more you’re worth and how much better you deserve.”

“We can stand here and fight about this all night, we both know that, but I do have to go. The sooner I get him home and to bed, the sooner I can go to sleep and get tomorrow’s shit show over with.”

“If you need someone to take Jellybean—“

“I know, Betty, you’re my go-to for almost everything, don’t worry. I know you’re here for me, I know you’ll do anything I ask, I know, okay?”

“Okay, be safe,” she whispers and kisses his cheek. He begins to let her hand go and walk away, but Betty holds her grip. “Jug, I,” she says in a breath and blinks up at him. “I know this isn’t the right time, and maybe I’m saying it more for me than for you which isn’t fair, I know, but—“

“What, Betty?” he interrupts in an attempt to get her to stop rambling.

“I love you, Juggie, like I’m in lo—“

“I know what you mean,” he cuts in once again and visibly gulps. “Betty, you know how I feel about you—“

“I know you can’t say it,” Betty assures him and plasters a fake smile on her face, the Cooper way. “It’s okay, I just needed you to know because tomorrow is going to be hard for you and—I want you to know I do love you and no matter what happens you’ll have me, you always will.”

Jughead’s face is a jumble of emotions she knows he’s trying to decipher within himself. “I… have to go now, but, um, thank you,” he murmurs, giving her hand a squeeze before dropping it and shuffling down the front steps.

She waits until he’s around the corner to go into her house feeling a heaviness in her gut that she knows won’t go away, not until they have marks, not until Jughead can feel confident enough to call her his. She never thought about her and Jug never getting marks, it hadn’t crossed her mind really, but with his mom being marked with someone else… the statistics of an unnatural child having a soulmate are low, but an unnatural child with a parent who later marked? It was even lower.

Betty has always taken solace in knowing Jughead’s parents believed in them, that one day they would get soulmarks, but Gladys obviously doesn’t, probably never has. And if his parents don’t believe her, and her parents don’t believe her, and if more things keep going wrong in Jughead’s life to pull him even farther away from her… She shakes the thoughts out of her head.

Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third is hers, she doesn’t care what the universe does to separate them. To her, somehow, they are already one.

…

“You should just call him.”

Betty glares at the back of Archie’s head. “Yes, because I hadn’t thought of that, oh wise one. Any more obvious things you want to point out? The sky is blue—”

“You’re mean without Jug around,” Archie mumbles, his fingers violently smashing buttons on his controller.

“I’m sorry, I’m not—I’m just so frustrated,” Betty groans, collapsing on his couch dramatically. “I haven’t really spoken to him in three days, and texts do not count as actual communication. What did he sound like when you talked to him, Arch?”

“Uh,” Archie begins, but is distracted by his video game.

“Archibald Andrews, I will unplug that freakin’ machine—”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Archie pauses the game and turns to look at her. “He sounded rushed, I guess. He’s dealing with the fallout from his mom, Betty, and making sure Jellybean is okay, it’s kind of a lot, even for him, you know?”

“Yes, it is, I agree!” she exclaims and he leans away in surprise at the enthusiasm of her response. “It’s a lot, and I can help him, I could take some of it off his plate, I’m great at helping!”

“Betty, take it down a notch, you’re about to attract dogs.”

“You don’t understand, Archie, the other night I,” she stops and lets out a long breath. “I did something so stupid.”

“What’d you do?”

“Pushed him away, which is hard to do when he’s already practically sprinting in the other direction, but I am just that good,” Betty sighs.

“Betty, you know how Jug feels about you,” Archie assures her. “He’s just, he’s Jug, you know? He’s not used to nice things, or things working out, and you’re the nicest thing in his life. To him, it doesn’t make sense that he gets you, you know what I mean?”

“Do you guys talk about this? About me?” Betty demands, sitting up and leaning in his personal space.

“I try to keep out of your guys’ couple drama because I want to be Switzerland,” Archie tells her. “I’m the best friend and what you say stays between us, and what he says stays between me and him. You gotta respect that, Betty.”

“I do, Arch, you’re a wonderful human, but Jug is hurting right now and we both know I can help him, so if you tell me what you know—”

“Jug’s been hurting, Betty, come on. He’s white-knuckling as we get older and you’re getting closer to, well, you know,” he hints at her period and she shakes her head at him. Boys, they get so grossed out about the menstrual cycle. “Betty… Jug, he’s, how do I say this,” he clears his throat and sit back on his hands to think. “Now, he hasn’t said this to me in so many words, but it feels like he’s waiting for you to take it all back. Every day he wakes up waiting for you to break his heart. I’m not just talking about marks, I’m talking about who he is, and how he’s so different from you.”

“What? Jug’s the most thoughtful, sweetest, genuine—”

“I know you think that, and I’ll try to not be offended because I do think I’m genuine—”

“Archie,” Betty warns, her patience is wearing thin.

“I know, I know. You see Jughead how he is, I see Jughead for who he is, but Jughead, it’s like he’s looking in a funhouse mirror and all the bad parts are enlarged and the good parts are so small. He’s waiting for you to see him the same way and just walk away, maybe not even wait for the moment to get the mark, you could do this tomorrow to him, in his mind. When you walk away from him, he’ll never be the same, so he’s trying to, like, soften the blow, maybe. Again, he hasn’t said any of this to me in these words, it’s just how I see it from his snide remarks and comments, so his general personality, I guess.”

Betty opens her mouth and then closes it again. “What?” she questions and almost wants to laugh. “What?” she repeats, speechless. “Have you—have you told him how wrong that is? That, that, I mean, it’s so—I need to find him.”

Betty stands, but Archie holds his hands up from the floor. “Betty, calm down. You bullrushing him right now with all these emotions is just going to cause a fight, besides we don’t know where he is right now. Just because I’ve talked to him doesn’t mean he’s been open and honest. Wait until tonight when you know he’ll be by the trailer, when his dad—”

“Will be drunk and need taken care of,” Betty finishes and sits on the couch again. “When did you get so wise, Arch?”

“Well, while you and Jug have been mooning over each other I have been watching and learning how to handle getting my own soulmate. You guys are helping me out a lot with all the trial and error,” he admits.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Betty says sarcastically.

“Yep, so wanna watch a movie? With Jug not here it could be in color, not have subtitles, and it can even star Seth Rogen,” Archie suggests with a wide smile.

“You make some excellent points, and who knows when a moment like this will happen again,” she agrees. “But no Seth Rogen please.”

“Fine,” Archie says in a huff and in minutes they have a movie chosen, something that never happens with Jug around because they usually spend twenty minutes fighting first, and both were settled on the couch. “So, how are you going to get your mom to let you go to Jug’s so late at night?”

“I’m going to tell her I’m sleeping over someone’s house,” Betty answers easily. “Probably Ethel’s, she likes Ethel, and Ethel will cover for me if something happens. I’ll buy her a pie from Pop’s to thank her.”

“A whole pie? I help you out all the time and I don’t get anything.”

“You’re stuck with me for life, Ethel I still have to bribe to stick around,” Betty says with a sideways glance and smirk before suppressing a yawn.

“Haven’t been sleeping?” Archie asks while hitting play on the DVD remote.

“Not at all, really, no,” Betty answers honestly, because why lie? “But my room has now been feng shui’ed, is more organized than ever, I’ve sorted my closet into categories of ‘my mom made me buy this’, ‘my mom doesn’t know I own this’, and ‘my mom and I agree on this’, well I guess four categories because I also have a garbage bag clothes that just don’t fit anymore, same with shoes.”

“You have shoes your mom doesn’t know you own?”

“High heels, yes, given to me in secrecy by Polly. My mom doesn’t think high heels, the kind Polly gave me anyways, are appropriate, She’s more of a sensible shoes woman, my mother.”

“I’m going to pretend I know what that means,” Archie says, his arm splayed over the back of the couch.

“Oh, and I’ve already read four books on the AP English summer reading list,” Betty informs him.

“God, you need sleep, it’s just sad. Want me to make popcorn?” Archie asks while standing.

“Sure, light on the butter please!” she calls after him and shuffles to rest her head on the armrest, and that’s the last thing she remembers before Archie’s front door bangs open, it’s dark out, and the TV screen is blank.

“Arch!” she hears someone calling.

It takes a moment to realize it’s Jughead in her sleepy haze, and she struggles to get up. It is then she realizes she’s locked in a hold by Archie, his body behind hers, his arms around her like how he sleeps with his dog Vegas.

“Archie!” Jughead yells again, coming into the living room and flicking on the light.

Betty’s eyes squint at the harsh change. “Jug,” she groans, struggling under Archie’s weight—he literally will not let go.

Jughead just stares at them, his eyes blinking repeatedly, like he can’t believe what he is seeing.

“Archie!” Betty grunts, now fighting his grip and it begins to lessen as the red-head wakes up. When Betty looks back up Jughead is gone and the front door is slamming shut. “Jughead!” she calls after him, stumbling over her feet. “Juggie, wait!” she yells, following him down the sidewalk as he practically sprints. “Jug, I can run faster than you, stop!” she orders, cutting him off and they knock into each other.

“Let me go, Betty,” he says in a deep voice, his hands on hers as she anchors herself on his flannel.

“No! I was going to come find you tonight.”

“Yeah, you looked real interested in me tonight,” he bites back.

“What? Archie and I were watching a movie and fell asleep, that’s all. He was helping me not freak out about not hearing from you in a couple days.”

“Yeah, sure. Let go,” he says, tugging on her hands again, but she doesn’t listen. “Betty.”

“No, why are you getting so upset? Because of me and Archie? Are you serious? It’s—he’s Archie,” she says like it explains everything.

“Don’t be naïve, Betty, it doesn’t suit you,” he remarks and she doesn’t like the dark look in his eyes. The eyebags indicate he hasn’t been sleeping either, he looks exhausted.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You just said it the other day, Archie is getting curious and he’s not subtle about girls,” he reminds her.

“What? Me and Archie? He’s like my brother. Are you seriously telling me after all this time you’re jealous of Archie? Our best friend, Archie?”

“No, my best friend Archie, your neighbor who gets to look into your bedroom window every night and is a stone’s throw when you need him. You guys even have a freakin’ system to wake the other up in the middle of the night if something happens!”

“From when we were five and you helped design it! That was never for Archie, I only used it when you were sleeping over. Are you really making a big deal about this? Archie doesn’t think of me that way, and I definitely have never even considered the possibility—”

“Betty,” Jughead cuts her off and forcibly takes her hands from his button up. “I literally cannot handle this right now, I came to Archie’s to get Archie, not you.”

Betty nods and steps back. “Wow, okay, that’s… nice.”

“Don’t do that, do you have any idea how shitty this past week has been for me?”

“Maybe I’d have a better idea if you actually talked to me, or you know, wanted to hang out with me other than when you feel the world is falling apart all around you. I can’t just be a safety blanket for you Jug, there are two people in this relationship.”

“Really? ‘Cause five minutes ago I couldn’t tell which two people were in one,” he comments and is already walking away. “I have somewhere to be, don’t follow,” he says over his shoulder and is around the corner as she stands glued to the sidewalk.

When she turns Archie is standing at the end of his driveway, just waiting. “Where’d he go? Is everything okay?”

“No, Archie, it isn’t,” Betty tells him and brushes by to go to her house.

“Betty,” Archie grabs her wrist. “Let me help, we should go find him together.”

“Trust me, Arch, the last thing he needs is the two of us looking for him together,” she insists and is already going up her front steps to lie to her mom, pack a bag, and head for the trailer park.

Hours later Betty has no idea what time it is because her phone died, she hopes her mom hasn’t called to check in on her, but also doesn’t really care, and is considering making a sleeping bag out of her clothes to sleep on, but doesn’t think it’s a good idea because if FP comes home first he’s likely to trample her.

She knows she actually dozed off when she jerks awake to the sound of hoots and hollers. Jughead is standing in front of her, two boys on either side of him. She thinks she recognizes them, maybe from school or just the trailer park, but she doesn’t care. What she cares about is the brown bottles hanging from their hands.

“Can I get one of these delivered to my front door?” a boy asks as he steps towards her, but Jughead catches his collar with his fist and tugs him back. “Fuck, Jones, what’s your problem?”

“What are you doing here, Betty?” he questions, ignoring the blond guy, then takes a swig.

“Are you drinking?” she demands while stepping closer to him. “What the hell, Jughead?”

“Yeah, J, what the hell, we should be sharing. You want some, babe?” the blond speaks up again.

“Shut the hell up, Dez,” Jughead orders, his tone dark and firm, his eyes practically black. “You guys should go,” he says a moment later with eyes soley on Betty.

“Killjoy,” Dez, apparently, muttered and kicked a rock. “You think Toni’s up, Joaquin?” he asked as they walked away.

“Dream on, bro,” she heard the other guy, Joaquin, say as they went.

“What’re you doing, Jug? Drinking? This isn’t you,” Betty tells him once the two boys are out of sight.

“And who am I, Betty, huh?” he asks with the bottle to his lips.

“Well, you’re usually not this much of a dick, for starters,” Betty offers and crosses her arms as Jughead just laughs. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours and you were off drinking with those guys? Where’s your dad? I was starting to think you slept over your mom’s.”

“My mom’s,” Jughead chuckles while leaning against the side of the trailer and takes a long drink. “My mom’s, that’s funny,” he goes on and laughs. “To think, a boy from the trailer park has two homes, yet neither of them really want him.”

“Jug, don’t, don’t do that. I know you’re going through a hard time right now—”

“Right now? I’ve been going through a hard time since I was eight, Betty, open your eyes,” he cuts her off.

“Open my eyes? What, you think I’ve been walking around with blinders on since we met?”

“Give the girl a medal, she’s finally got it!” Jughead yells into the abyss of the trailer park.

“Jug, why are you being like this?” Betty asks almost in a whisper.

“Because this is who I am, Betty,” Jughead states as he comes closer. “Doesn’t it ever occur to you just how different we are? Like on a cellular DNA kind of level? You’re a straight-A student, your sister is already training you to be a cheerleader when we get to high school, I mean you’re the perfect girl next door.”

“I hate that word.”

“I’m the damaged loner outsider from the wrong side of the tracks,” he goes on, ignoring her.

“You know I have never thought of you that way,” Betty insists.

“Betty, come on,” Jug urges. “Who are we kidding? We’re on borrowed time.”

Betty feels her eyes water. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t just decide at four years old that someone is your soulmate!”

“I didn’t decide anything!” she exclaims. “I felt it, and you said you did too, unless you’ve been lying for nine years!”

“I was five, Betty, hoping to get a pretty girl to stop crying, I paid attention to you in a way no one else did, a way Archie didn’t and is finally starting to. Wake up, we aren’t those kids anymore,” he tells her.

Betty nods, blinking tears away. “Right, so all this time I’ve just been using you. For nine years I’ve been so very vocal about how I feel just to make a fool out of myself when we don’t mark together.”

“Might as well have,” Jug agrees and lifts the bottle up in a cheers motion. Before he can put it to his lips she reaches out and smacks it out of his hands. “What the fuck, Betty?”

“You open your damn eyes, Jughead Jones,” Betty orders, her tone firm even though her lip is quivering and she can taste the salt of her tears. “I am doing everything I can to keep you whole, to keep us together, and all you’re doing is running in the other fucking direction. You want me to think all you needed was some liquid courage to tell me that our entire life together has been a lie? I don’t buy it, you hear me?” she states and steps right up to him. “I know it seems everyone in your life lets you down or walks away but I am here, I am standing right here and I’m telling you I am not going anywhere. I love you, I know that scares you, but I don’t care, you just have to get used to it.”

“Right, until you mark with Archie, then what? You’ll still be right here, only with him right beside you? No thanks,” he mutters, unable to meet her eye.

“Why is everything about Archie now? I don’t feel that way about him, I have never seen him that way. The only person I have ever even thought about was you, you’re all I see, why can’t you see that?”

“Because you don’t see what I see, Betty,” Jughead bites back. “You’re the perfect girl next door and he’s the All-American boy every girl dreams about. Don’t you see just how much more sense you two make? Guys like me don’t get girls like you. I’m an unnatural child, Betty, with a mother that marked later, you think I don’t look up the statistics just like you? My chance of marking dropped in half from the less than fifty-percent it already was. We can’t hold onto some childhood fantasy anymore. You’re going to mark, Betty, there is no doubt about it, but me? I’m going to become just like my father, in love with a girl who marked with someone else, and chasing the liquor bottle. It’s about damn time we accepted that. You think I’m waiting for you to walk away? You’re already halfway gone, Betty, and I’m losing my fucking mind.”

“You might think that because you’re pushing me away. I’m not willingly putting the distance between us, that’s all on you Jug, and you know it,” Betty reminds him.

“It’s called self-preservation. You think this is fun for me? What, you think I’m going to stick around when it turns out I’m right and nothing happens when we touch after you get your period? You think I can just watch when you end up with Archie or someone just like him? No, as soon as you touch me and nothing happens I’m gone because I won’t be able to just stand on the sidelines, it will literally kill me.”

“Didn’t you feel anything when we first touched, Jug? Don’t you remember how it felt? I know we were just kids, but God, don’t you still something when you hold my hand or kiss my cheek? Because I do. I feel it every damn time. We’re soulmates, we are, don’t shake your head at me,” Betty demands and takes his face in her hands. “And if we aren’t then we won’t have marks together. I don’t need a mark, Jug, and for all the trouble they’ve caused I wish they didn’t even exist. I wish we could just pick whoever we wanted and be happy, because if we could then I would choose you, I’d choose you every time.”

Jug removes her hands from his face. “My mom was in love with my dad just a couple months ago, Betty, then she touched Billy and it was like he never even fucking mattered. It didn’t matter she already had two kids, it didn’t matter that she was the only thing keeping my dad even remotely together, she forgot about it all the moment that mark formed on her back.”

“I’m not your mother!” Betty practically screams and pushes on his chest. “I’m not her, I’m stronger than her, and I don’t need a mark to tell me who I should be with. I know it right in here,” Betty insists, putting her hand over his heart. “I love you, Jug, please, just stop all this and accept it. You’ll see when I finally get my period, then all of this will be for nothing,” she says in a whisper as tears pour down her face.

“I can’t do it like them, Betts,” Jughead murmurs, once again making it so they weren’t touching. “I can’t—” he chokes and turns away, resting his hands on the trailer as he breathes heavily.

Betty sniffles and then jumps when he punches the trailer repeatedly. “Jug, Jug, stop!” she pleads, grabbing a hold of his arm. “You’ll wake your dad up, or, I don’t know, dent your house!”

“My dad’s in jail, Betty,” Jughead tells her, using his bloody hand to wipe his nose and laughs. “Drunk and disorderly. Billy called the cops on him when he showed up at the condo to try and get Jellybean to bring her home, said this shithole is where she belonged.”

“Jug,” Betty breathes and steps towards him and he steps back, stumbling into the trailer and just slides down until he’s sitting. “Jug, please—”

“I’m going to lose you, Betty,” he says softly and looks up into her eyes, the little boy she met shining though his iris’. “I’m going to lose you before I even get to have you. Don’t you understand how that’s killing me?” he asks and breaks off into a sob.

“Juggie,” Betty drops to her knees and takes him in her arms. For the first time tonight he doesn’t fight her and lets himself fall apart in her arms. She pushes his beanie off and cards her fingers through his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear.

It takes a few minutes for him to calm down and his eyes look glassy while his eyelids keep trying to close. The alcohol is setting in, she thinks.

“I don’t know which is worse,” he mumbles, his head falling back onto the side of the trailer with a thump. “Losing you before because I’m pushing so hard, or just saying fuck it and losing you after. Should I get to know what I’m missing or let what could be haunt me?”

“Juggie,” she repeats and bites her lip to stop herself from crying herself. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed,” she urges, standing and tugging on his hand to get him standing.

He follows her lead and doesn’t fight, he doesn’t even say another word until he’s in bed after kicking his jeans off. “Fuck, I’m already him,” he groans while digging his palms into his eyes.

“You’re not your father, Jug,” Betty assures him, getting him under the blankets and holding a glass of water up to him. “Drink some of this for me.”

He attempts to sit up and gulps down half before falling back down. “Really? ‘Cause I’m sure I did this same thing with him last night, only I was on the other side of it.”

“Sh, close your eyes, Juggie,” she whispers, brushing hair out of his eyes and he leans into her hand. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep, okay?”

“I want you to stay forever,” he whispers as his eyes are already fighting to stay open. “You know, I thought,” he starts and peeks one eye open. “I thought that if I did everything right, if I did everything for everyone else, spread myself so thin I had nothing left, that maybe the universe would owe me,” he stops and shifts so he’s on his side facing her, his body curled around her's sitting on the edge. “I thought maybe finally I’d get something for myself, that I’d get you,” he goes on once her hand is moving through his hair again. “But I guess I did too good of a job making my mom look good because the universe thought it’d been her all along.”

“Sleep, Jug,” she says again and leans down to kiss his temple.

“You ruined me, Betty Cooper,” he mumbles, both eyes closed and his breaths evening out. “And I can’t even be mad about it,” he goes on and smiles to himself, or maybe her, she doesn’t know. “‘Cause what a way to go.”

She stays for a long time just to watch him sleep, her fingers massaging his scalp as he dreams, hoping that his mind isn’t wreaking havoc on him when he’s unconscious like it does when he’s awake.

Many people have told her she’s wrong about her and Jug, more people have laughed at her than believed her, but none of those people were Jug himself. He’s never put into words that he didn’t believe her, that he didn’t believe they were soulmates. Sure, she knows it was in the back of his mind that it nags him, that it’s been getting louder the older they get, but she didn’t think it was consuming him the way it is.

What if she’s wrong? What if she just built up a cute little boy helping her out of the mud when she was four so much in her head that she doesn’t know what’s truth or fiction anymore? She thinks she remembers that moment perfectly, how he felt, what he smelled like. She still has the paper crown in her hope chest and can recall the exact moment it hit her: this boy is her soulmate.

But the other option is that he’s not. Did she just have a crush and romanticize her parent’s marks and love so much that in her four-year-old brain a crush and a soulmate were one in the same?

Betty has never doubted herself before. She has never truly thought she was wrong, never realized just how broken she could leave Jughead Jones if she’s been mistaken.

Slowly she extracts herself from the sleeping boy and leaves the trailer, grabbing her bag and one of his zip-up hoodies on her way out. Betty doesn’t know where she’s going, doesn’t have a plan, she just walks and then begins running, not stopping when she enters Eversgreen Forest. She doesn’t care when branches slapped her in the neck and face, ignores when her lungs burn so much it’s hard to breathe.

She only comes to a halt when she trips and tumbles to the ground and can’t force herself up. Her legs are jelly and she sobs when she realizes she’s in a mud puddle, just like the one Jughead found her in.

Betty Cooper knows what being in love feels like, and now, at thirteen years old, she knows what a broken heart feels like too, only it’s not her own heart she’s worried about, it’s Jughead’s.

She holds all the cards in her hands, it’s all up to her. With her touch they will mark or not, their hearts will break or swell.

She looks down at her hands and squeezes them closed in anger—she wonders if she's fortunate to find love so young, or if feeling it all slip away just makes her unlucky for having it at all.

To Be Continued...

Notes: Thank you everyone for everything you left after the first chapter!!! It made a depressed girl smile for a couple days, so once again, thank you. I tried to make sure I answered everyone's questions in the comments, the one's I could answer without spoiling anything, anyways. If I didn't ask again and I'll do my best to reply!

Big shout out to @jandjsalmon again for helping with this chapter and beta-ing, and of course making the aesthetic for this chapter as well.

The third chapter is well on it's way but I have been on vacation for a week so it's been hard to write, and I thought that since I'm going home tomorrow and will have some time to write again (hopefully) that the kudos and comments from this chapter will help push me along with it.

#bughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale #fanfiction #ao3

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