#[ooc] just because i really think he would have been okay if the drug dealers hadn't found him first

[undertheknightwing]

okay, I'm midway through s2 of superman and lois and pretty miffed that Jon still doesn't have one actual friend in Smallville.

He has friends on the football team, sure, but from what we've seen on-screen of those friendships they all seem to be pretty shallow-- only consisting of them drinking and partying and talking about football. He doesn't seem to have a deep connection to any of them. Not that Jon having shallow friendships is a bad thing (not every relationship a person is going to have is gonna be a deep connection, and that's perfectly okay and healthy), but it's not healthy that he *only* has shallow friendships.

Like he doesn't have a single person he can actually discuss any thoughts, feelings, or fears with. He has no person to vent to the way that Sarah and Jordan were on literally the first day that they met. Jon had Teagan and now he has Candice, but honestly I feel like both of those girls were just using him, and he hasn't exactly opened up to Candice much.

It's just pretty frustrating to see since at several times in s1 they make a big deal about everything Jon gave up by agreeing to move to Smallville, they make a big deal about him losing Eliza and all his friends, and yet they never actually strive to fix that? He's still very much isolated and alone :(

To this day I still can't figure out what the hell was going on with season 2 and what story they were trying to tell because it bounced around everything and the only message I got from it was "no powers = unimportant".

Not to mention how insanely ooc Clark felt at times. So fucking weird. Forgive the people trying to murder you and destroy the world but your depressed son? nah, he doesn't deserve forgiveness.

It's just-- ughh.. I only rewatch season 2 for my favorite hot topic Superboy.

But everything you said is so right. In s1 Lois kept bringing up the fact that Jon has no friends and now she magically doesn't care at all. Actually, none of them care, it's a game I guess. "Which one of us can neglect Jonathan the most", and they somehow act shocked when Jon gets himself in a toxic situation. I think it's obvious why he's acting out and getting in trouble buttt.. 🤷

He has no friends, no one to talk to, and his girlfriend is manipulative and uses his desperate need for the attention and love he's not getting at home against him. Never gonna understand why the show tried to paint Candick as the poor innocent victim and Jon as the evil villain when she's the x-k dealer who kept telling Jon he'd be better if he took the drugs.. this season is so fucked up, I swear.

Todd's burning hatred of Jon really shined that season.

Jon-El was the best part and his little bit of backstory we saw was more interesting than the entire season. Too bad he ended up getting the same treatment as Jon storywise. He still carried the whole season though, love that raccoon 🖤

If Todd could get over his need to make the story revolve around Jordan, season 2 would have been fucking cool because they really did bring in some good ideas and if they went down those roads instead it would have been such a great season 😮‍💨

[mellowoutpal]

"I know who you are. Even if you don't remember." (Tubbs to hostile Burnett)

Random Inbox Love Pain (always accepting)

How did she know about his memory problems? How could she know? The impulse was there to shoot her right then, but something strong urged him to stay his hand and keep the pistol safely in its holster. It had to have been curiosity… what else could it be? After all, in the short time since his stint in the hospital, almost no one had offered up any explanation as to his past: people made mention of a boat, but no home to return to, and no family or friends had come to see him. He had largely accepted the fact that, whoever he was, he hadn’t had any, or, whatever his private life was, it was kept secret and hidden from his peers and colleagues. He would be satisfied with that: doing what others told him to do, being who they wanted him to be, playing along, making it so he was fine. Because he was fine. Of course he was fine. What other choice did he have? It’s not like he could remember anything anyways.

At this point, he realized it had been far too long since she had said anything, and he composed himself (did he drop his facade for a moment? He didn’t remember), looking in her features. There was something there, he knew there was, just out of reach, he could tell, if he would only let himself look, if only he could think, damn it, think–

“…I know who I am.” he said instead, trying to keep his voice calm, professional, and level (Why did he have to try? Wasn’t he fine? Why did he sound so uncertain about such a simple statement? Could she tell?). “Don’t waste my time, Cooper.” The name sounded wrong–  why did it sound so wrong?

Why was everything about this wrong?

[bots-and-cons]

OKAYYYY SO! How would Ratchet, Knockout, and Wheeljack react to their Vigilante! Boyfriend getting stabbed or severely injured? (love your writing, you’re huge inspiration to me! Love ya!)

Gender neutral human reader as usual and I didn’t feel like writing Jackie. Thank you very much <3 A little side note, I wrote this while I was really tired and it feels a bit OOC, but I’m also too tired to really care.

~Ratchet~

“I told you, you can’t keep doing this” Ratchet sighed, sounding very annoyed, as you laid on the examination table.

“It’s not even that bad, just a flesh wound” you said, even though you were obviously in a lot of pain. “And besides, what the hell was I supposed to do? Just let him rob that old lady?”

“Yes!”

“Why?!”

“Because I have been patching you up a lot recently, and one of these days no amount of medical care is going to help you”

You just huffed and you would’ve crossed your arms across your chest if even attempting the movement didn’t make pain shoot up your side.

“Just lay still and let me stitch the wound for Primus’ sake” Ratchet sighed as he turned around with the needle and the sutures.

“I can’t just stand there while someone is getting hurt, not if I can do something about it” you said.

“Take your shirt off, and stop talking for a minute”

You just rolled your eyes and squirmed your way out of your bloody shirt. You were laying on your other side so the wound was upwards towards Ratchet. He had this little thing he had made to keep the needle steady that he would be able to hold, because the needle alone was way too small for his hands.

Ratchet was used to seeing his friends getting hurt, it was war after all, but it was so different when it happened to you. Someone who he was never supposed to be patching up, because you were never supposed to get hurt. Knowing that this had been done to you by your fellow man, rather than the decepticons he was so used to facing, was somehow even worse.

“Ratty, I’m seriously okay” you said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He had finished stitching your wound without even really thinking about it and had left his servo to rest on your thigh.

“You might be now, but you can’t really promise the same about the future if you keep doing this” he said, the sadness in his voice was clear. “It’s bad enough that the decepticons are out for your blood, but you getting yourself into dangerous situations willingly, is something I really can’t handle well”

“I can try to be more careful from now on, but I won’t leave someone who needs help” you said softly, sitting up and putting a hand on his servo that was still resting on your thigh.

“I… I don’t know what I would do if you died” Ratchet said shakily.

You didn’t really know what to say to him. Obviously no one knew what the future held for you two and there was no way to tell. No amount of worrying would change that. Hell, Ratchet was in mortal danger everyday the decepticons were out there, and he only seemed to be worried about you.

“Do you know why I do what I do? Do you know why I want to help as many people as I can? It’s because when I needed help, there was no one there and I was so scared. I don’t want others to feel like that if I can help it at all”

Ratchet wasn’t really surprised at your explanation, but why did you have to be such a kindhearted person? Why didn’t you think of yourself before others, even in dangerous situations? Ratchet wasn’t sure his spark could take much more of this.

~Knockout~

“What the scrap was that?! We’re those gunshots?!” Knockout asked frantically as you hopped in on the front seat and he gunned it to get away from the people chasing you.

“Yeah, and I-” your sentence was cut short as you noticed something warm and wet making its way down your arm.

“Oh shit” you muttered

What?” Knockout asked as he kept speeding down the street.

“I… I think I got shot” your voice was now wavering a bit, more of the shock than being upset.

“WHAT?!” Knockout yelped and came to halt, tires screeching.

“I-I’m bleeding”

“I need to get you to a hospital” Knockout said, and revved his engine.

“No, no hospital, we’re gonna figure this out on our own, let’s just get back to the Nemesis” you reasoned.

“Are you insane?!” Knockout asked as he started driving.

“Probably, but I really don’t need the cops asking me how I ended up getting shot and meddling in my business”

“But-!”

“Just get me to the Nemesis and I’ll patch myself up there, please”

“Fine, but if you pass out or it looks like you need actual medical attention, you know from a real human doctor, I’m taking you to the nearest hospital myself”

“Deal, but that’s not gonna happen”

You got to the Nemesis and Knockout carried you into the medbay, insisting you weren’t going to walk in your condition. You argued that the bullet had hit your shoulder, which has nothing to do with walking, but he wasn’t having any of it.

You dug out the bullet and stitched yourself up, while Knockout was leaning on one of the side tables, looking intently at what you were doing, like he was trying to memorize it for future use. 

Knockout felt useless, and he disliked that feeling. His hands were too big to properly hold the needle and all he could do was to put a big piece of folded up gauze on the wound and tape it to your body.

You noticed his disdain of the whole situation and said: “See, I’m all good”

“What the scrap were you doing there anyway? Buying drugs?” he scoffed.

“Close, I was trying to bust some dealers, but it didn’t really go to plan”

“What!?”

“And you were my getaway driver, or car, or both actually” you pondered.

Knockout felt like he was going to get a headache if you told him anymore of your nightly adventures.

“Just… please don’t do that a second time”

“It would be more like the tenth but okay” you muttered under your breath.

Knockout decided to act like he didn’t hear what you just said. He just sat down next to you on the examination table and sighed. He loved you, no doubt about that, but by Primus you could be an idiot sometimes.

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

summary: a chance encounter puts Fiona Tanner in the sights of the Cullen family. Emmett takes an immediate liking to her, but Edward thinks she's a threat to the family. No Emmett x Rosalie. warnings: kidnapping, ooc behaviour? words: 4kish

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 1

From the moment her boots hit the cement on the busy Seattle sidewalk, the search was on. Holding tightly to the handle of her suitcase she tried to get her bearings. Fiona Tanner’s sister had been missing for months. The cops had nothing, and they weren’t taking any of Fiona’s advice.

“Let us do our jobs, ma’am. We’ll find your sister…” had not so slowly turned into “we can’t find someone that doesn’t want to be found.” Insinuating that her sister had run away with some boy, over the fact that the cops simply hadn’t done a good enough job. Bree was a troubled kid, who left home in a hurry before she’d turned fifteen. But she always stayed in contact with Fiona. Little messages from burner phones to let her sister know that she was okay.

A person could only drag their sister back just to watch her run away again so many times before they needed an alternative solution.

Like she was going to just sit around and hope that they were right. She was an extra set of eyes and ears. There was nothing that could stand between her, and finding her sister. At the very least she was going to get the truth.

Besides, she knew for a fact that her sister was dead.

The bus dropped Fiona off in front of an old diner. It looked out of place next to two modern buildings, but the charm of it drew her in. The ladies inside were friendly, offering her a table and some coffee. She ordered a burger with fries and a root beer. While the waitress withdrew to the kitchen, Fiona pulled out a map of the city that she had started using as her guide to remember everything. The map and a small notebook she’d bought at the dollar store.

The map had a small blue X over a bookstore just a few blocks over, which was her first stop after getting some lunch. Now seemed like the best time to take stock of everything she knew so far.

Bree’s friends had no idea where she was. But they weren’t the brightest bunch, and not really the trustworthy type either.

Another boy from the area had gone missing recently as well. Riley Biers, last seen in May, 2010. He went missing near Pike Place Market.

Bree wouldn’t ever just run away with someone without telling her. She was in trouble.

And that was it. That was all Fiona knew.

But the family couldn’t just move on. Bree had looked exactly like Fiona did at her age. It became a curse when her own parents would struggle to look into her eyes, preferring to stare into their glass whenever she entered the room. It was like that a year ago, but when she had to tell her parents that she’d been talking to Bree, and hadn’t told them…

Being away from them wasn’t the worst thing right now.

It wasn’t something she wanted to think about at that moment. Her concentration needed to be on her investigation.

“Here ya go,” the waitress said, setting down the plate of food. Fiona smiled, and slid her map out of the way. She was starving.

She picked up a fry and brought it to her mouth, but suddenly felt… wrong. There was a weird feeling in her mind. Like someone was watching. No, not watching. Listening.

Then clear as day she heard it. This tiny little nagging voice that had started harassing her a few weeks ago. It sounded just like her sister, except this voice was deeper, raspy like she was dying of thirst.

Run, Fiona.

She put the fry back and grabbed a twenty from her wallet, strolling up to the counter to pay and get a to go container. Fiona kept her cool, but kept her defences up.

Don’t think about me.

Fiona looked around the diner. There were two teens taking pictures of their milkshakes and giggling. Then there was a couple. A girl and an Abercrombie model. Only one plate of food between them.

As if on cue, the boy picked up one of her fries and put it in his mouth. But Fiona didn’t miss the confused look on the girls’ face when he did it. He whispered something under his breath that made the girl look down, her hair making a waterfall to block out her face. But it didn’t matter, Fiona had his face painted in her memories.

I said, run!

The voice was annoying. But the scary thing to Fiona, was that she could hear dead people. Kind of like a medium, but she suppressed it. Pushed it down, down, down until it was suffocated. Bree, however, always knew how to get under Fiona’s skin.

Please, Fiona thought, just tell me what happened.

I told you, it’s not safe. Go home!

“Lady?” said the waitress, holding out the change to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Fiona said, putting her phoney smile back on. “Sorry, keep the change.” She took her to go box to the table and threw the fries in it, and everything else she owned back in her bag. She flipped it over one shoulder gracefully and grabbed her burger, taking a big bite of it. She looked back at the couple, but caught his narrowed eyes staring at her.

He was the one listening. She tried to immediately cover her thoughts by thinking the alphabet as loud as possible, but she could read from the look on his face that it was too late.

You’re going to get hurt. Bree had been fighting Fiona every step of the way. Putting fake clues in her mind, trying to push out clues that were helpful…

It was annoying.

C’mon Bree, Fiona thought. Gimme a clue.

How about a hint?

Yes, Bree! Please give me a hint.

Okay, go home. That’s your hint. Goodnight.

Goodnight, yourself. It’s not even dark out.

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 2

Wake up!! Bree was shouting. It was frantic, unlike anything Fiona had ever heard before. Please, Fiona, please, wake up!! Someone is in the bathroom!

In a second, all of the grogginess was wiped away. Fiona sat up quickly, pulling the blankets to her chest. She had triple, quadruple checked that the door was locked before bed. And she could see that it was still locked now. How could someone have…

I think… they’re leaving.

How?? Fiona was starting to shake. There’s no window in there.

Then something in the air shifted. And the only reason she knew something was different was the tiny breeze she felt on her face, and the fact that the door wasn’t locked anymore.

Who was in here, Bree?

I’m not telling.

But you know?

No.

Liar.

Fiona rubbed her temples. Bree’s yelling had given her a headache. To make things worse, Bree was loudly singing, “go hoooooome” over and over. Fiona got up, changed out of her pyjamas into jeans and a white tee. And pulled her boots on. She has at the edge of the bed for a minute, her head in her hands as she took some deep breaths.

Fiona looked out the window, and noticed something bizarre. There was a girl, standing stiff as a board. And Bree went radio silent.

Know that girl?

When Bree didn’t answer, Fiona dropped down, hiding herself out of view. Holy shit! Do you actually know that girl?

Fiona was getting tired of this. If Bree wasn’t going to talk, someone else was going to. With reckless abandon, she threw open the door and stomped across the parking lot, not really caring that this girl was starring at her.

“Do you know Bree Tanner?” Fiona asked loudly, before she was even close to the girl.

Shut up! Shut up! You have no idea what you’re starting!

“Excuse me?” said the girl. She was impossibly beautiful. The kind of beautiful that wasn’t even fair for the rest of the world.

“My sister is Bree Tanner, and I think she knows you.”

“And how could you know that?”

“She told me.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why? Because she’s dead?”

The girl shut up after that. Fiona was getting sick and tired of no one answering her questions. She knew she was playing with fire, but she didn’t care. If this girl was some drug dealer who got Bree killed, she was going to find out. And she wanted to find out today, right now.

“I don’t care what shit you’re in with the police, I just want to know what happened to her.”

Shut. Up! Or you’ll be dead like me.

The girl didn’t speak again. “Do you know the boy who listens?”

The next five seconds went faster than she could have possibly believed. She was suddenly in complete darkness. With all her belongings beside her. In a small, tight space. Where was she? What happened.

You’re in a TRUNK, dumbass, you just got kidnapped.

Well that, was bad news for Fiona. She wanted to scream but her mouth was covered. She wanted to fight but her hands were tied. How did that happen? How did she miss her own kidnapping?

The boy who could listen was here. Probably in the car. She could feel him in there.

“How could she know this much?” The beautiful girl asked. Fiona had no idea why, but she could hear them in her head. In her mind.

“Be quiet,” he said sharply.

Silence.

“She can hear us,” he said. “I can’t… I can’t look in her mind, I’m just hearing my words echoed back, louder than her thoughts. I think she’s burying them.”

Instead of burying them, she turned it around. Played it loud like shouting into a megaphone. Did you do this to Bree, too? And then she projected Bree’s image. She closed her eyes and tried to push every detail of her sister’s face into his mind. But, he edited it. Saw it the way he saw it, with bright red eyes. She felt the car swerve violently and she cracked her arm as she rolled onto it. It hurt so badly. She hoped it wasn’t broken but the way her fingers stopped responding to her made her worried.

“Knock it off!” he shouted.

“What?” His passenger asked. Don’t be rude, she thought.

Not you, Rosalie. Did the listening boy think that?

It was getting too confusing for her to keep all these voices straight. Rosalie was sitting with the boy who listens. She didn’t know his name. It made no sense, how could she hear them? She could only ever hear the dead, but this wasn’t the same. Bree sounded like she was in the middle of Fiona’s brain, but the other two… they sounded like Fiona was listening to them from a couple feet away. They were on the outside, and Bree was on the inside.

Please, Bree begged, I don’t know how to help you now.

It didn’t matter. Fiona passed out.

EMMETT CULLEN FORKS, DAY 1

Emmett hated when the family went into crisis mode. Jasper didn’t want to play chess because he was too busy fretting over Alice. Edward was having four panic attacks a day thinking that these “loose ends” were going to get Bella killed. And Carlisle and Esme were making Plan B arrangements in case they had to move, which is what everyone kept saying. No one was brave enough to say in case we have to kill her.

He heard Edward and Rosalie driving over the speed limit. Faster than ever, maybe. And he was excited to at least see some kind of action around here. Ever since he got to the house everyone has treated him like he’s stupid. Which he was not.

“Jasper!” Emmett called, beaming up the stairs. “They’re coming!”

“Yes, thank you Emmett. I hear them too.” Jasper spoke normally. Knowing Emmett could hear him through the walls.

Edward skidded his car to a quick stop in front of the house. Emmett happily joined Carlisle and Esme on the front lawn. They had all agreed to greet their guest and try to explain things as civilly as possible. Edward and Rosalie were supposed to go get her, invite her on a tour around town and then invite her for a dinner. Emmett was excited to make a friend, and also excited to watch his family force down a pizza. They all got so miserable after eating human food.

“Oh dear,” Esme said.

Emmett didn’t understand what the big deal was. Edward was out of the car, talking to Bella on the phone. The wedding was still a ways away, this was only supposed to be a minor inconvenience. Rosalie had run off into the woods before even greeting anyone. She hadn’t been coping well lately and hadn’t spent much time talking to anyone. Not that she was very friendly on a regular basis.

Only then did Emmett notice that the car door was open, but he could tell the heartbeat he heard and the blood he smelled was behind a wall of metal. She wasn’t in the backseat. They put her in the trunk?

Seemed a little rude.

The girl was bleeding back there too. Probably why Rosalie had to run. He couldn’t blame her, this girl smelled so good. She smelled like joy would taste.

“Pop the trunk!” Emmett said, laughing at Edward’s constipated expression.

“Emmett,” Carlisle whispered. His dad didn’t want to make a joke out of this. “Edward, please.”

Edward didn’t get off his phone call but clicked open the trunk with his keys. Emmett and Carlisle ran over to examine the damage.

As soon as Emmett saw her, he was smitten. Absolutely smitten. She was so pretty. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Short black hair, round little face with the pinkest lips in the world. And they looked like they would be so fun to kiss. Emmett was aware his brother wasn’t answering Bella, and instead was staring at Emmett, but he didn’t care though. He could see the relation to Bree in her features, but she was definitely older.

“Her arm is broken,” he said. “I’ll bring her to my office and set it, and cast it.”

Esme coughed for a moment, briefly distracted by the pooling of blood in the trunk of Edward’s Volvo. “Need anything from your office, dear?”

Emmett could see the appreciation on Carlisle’s face. Emmett wanted love like these two had. Or like Alice and Jasper. Or Edward and Bella. Or Rosalie and her reflection. Carlisle gave her a short list of things he would need to cast her arm, he was only missing a few things that he had used before they came back to town.

Carlisle reached to pick her up, but Emmett swatted his hands away quickly. Not harshly, as it wasn’t meant to hurt Carlisle. But Emmett had to do it himself. He had to be the one to carry this girl. It didn’t matter what Edward wanted. No one was going to hurt her. Edward doesn’t get to always have everything his way.

“What’s her name again?” Emmett asked, his voice more gentle than they’s ever heard it as he gingerly picked her up.

“Fiona.” Carlisle watched Emmett’s every move.

“Fiona,” Emmett repeated quietly.

He didn’t want her to wake up, so he walked slowly through the house. Setting her down on the space Carlisle made on the desk. The blood didn’t bother Emmett for even a moment. He never even hesitated. He just brushed the hair off her face, and waited while Carlisle worked.

“You seem to have taken to this girl.”

“I just think she’s pretty,” Emmett said. “It’s not her fault about her sister. If one of us went missing, would you not stop at nothing to get us back?”

“You’re right about that.” Carlisle looked pained. “May I ask you something, Emmett?”

“Yeah, of course.” Emmett didn’t look up from the girl’s face, and instead dragged his fingers softly around the edge of her face. Maybe she would be his Bella.

Was it creepy to be thinking this before she had a chance to wake up and meet him? He can’t just claim her, only hope that she was as fascinated by him.

Edward came through the door before Carlisle could ask about what Emmett was thinking. Edward was clearly mad. Esme slipped in, giving Carlisle the things he asked for, but opted to slip out and remove herself from the blood. Emmett understood, Fiona smelled as tempting as a fresh apple pie.

“Why is she untied?” he asked, grabbed the abandoned tie off the ground. It was all he’d had to tie her up with at the time.

“Do you think she needs to be?” Carlisle asks.

“Yes, I do.” Edward crossed his arms. Emmett was getting irritated by the vibe in the room. It was bad vibes in here.

“No, Edward.” Carlisle kept working. “We don’t hold hostages.”

“You’re right, we should just kill her now,” he said, cooly. As if it wasn’t a person they were talking about. Carlisle paused, but continued.

Emmett stood up tall, puffing his chest out and blocking Edward’s view of Fiona.

“You’re not touching her,” he said.

“Are you going to stop me, Emmett?” Edward asked. “You don’t even know her.”

“I know that I’m not a danger to her,” he said. “And you are. So get out while Carlisle works.”

“You’ve lost your…” Edward trailed off, and dropped to his knees clutching his head. Emmett stooped down on one knee, immediately changing from being worried about this girl to worried about his brother. “It’s her.”

Fiona was stirring awake, Carlisle finishing and clearing himself just in time for her to start squirming.

“Oh my god, her thoughts - there’s so many…” Edward tried to clear a path, try to sort between her thoughts and the thoughts of others’ that lived in her mind. “They’re not hers.”

“STOP!” she shouted, sitting perfectly up. “My sister doesn’t know the truth, she’s no danger to the secret.”

“Fiona?” Carlisle asked. Everyone was totally stunned. The girl looked lifeless behind her eyes, like this wasn’t her but a cheap replication of her. Other than sitting up, her limbs were still and lifeless, no sign of pain or distress.

“Bree.”

“Bree?” Esme said, slipping in the door. “Bree is it really you?” Esme fluttered over, putting her hands on the girls’ face. She was close to tears. “I’m so sorry.” Esme had been feeling guilty over Bree everyday since it had happened.

“Esme,” Carlisle said softly. He didn’t want to silence his wife, but he didn’t know how much time they had to talk to her.

“She doesn’t know what really happened. You still have time to lie. Don’t kill her.”

“Don’t worry little buddy,” Emmett said. “No one is going to hurt Fiona.”

“Remains to be seen,” Edward muttered.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Sounds like family meeting time,” Esme said. “I’ll go find the others.” She slipped outside the office.

“I don’t understand,” Fiona said, her eyes focused. Her voice settled. It was her now. There was life in her eyes, but also fear, and she touched the cast on her arm. Even her voice was beautiful. Is this how the dogs feel? Emmett had never felt stronger than right now. Emmett didn’t move towards her for fear of startling her, she was so small.

“She can’t stay up here alone,” Edward said.

“I trust Carlisle to speak for me,” Emmett said, looking at Fiona. She was frightened, but brave. Trying to establish her surroundings. “I’m not going to let you hurt her no matter what you say anyway.”

“You’re risking everything,” Edward said. “For someone you don’t even know.”

“Sound familiar?” Emmett asked, scoffing. “I always had your back, even when I didn’t get it.”

Edward flashed a look of guilt but shook it off. Emmett knew they couldn’t keep taking risks like this, but she wasn’t a risk, she was a person. As fast as he’s ever run, Emmett grabbed her things from the car, and dropped them right at her feet. She was shaking, clearly terrified.

“How did you do that?”

“Your phone is in there, I checked.” Emmett heard his family go silent. The conversation was a waste of time anyway, it was just Carlisle trying to convince Edward that there were more options than murder. “I won’t stop you from calling 911. We are the Cullens, you’re in Forks. I’ll even give you the number for Chief-”

“Emmett!” Rosalie yelled. But Emmett got to the door first. Holding it shut from Rosalie’s destructive fists. It cracked and splintered under her heavy hits. “If we have to start over you are so dead.”

FIONA TANNER FORKS, DAY 1

Fiona was crying now. Confused by all the thoughts in her head. She could hear the whole family. Pieces of the conversation downstairs. She could hear the listener getting mad. He didn’t like his own thoughts being repeated back to him but she couldn’t help that. There was also the typical voices that she usually had buried, but coming out of whatever happened to her allowed them to flood in. People screaming in pain, or begging for help, or just taunting her for the fun of it. What did the boy who listens make of her?

“I’m not calling the police,” she whispered. “I just want to know what happened to Bree.”

Rosalie stopped busting the door at Carlisle’s request. But each of her exaggerated stomps could be heard as she left the house. She turned on music in the garage and started fussing with her cars. Emmett just looked at her, welcoming her to make the first move.

“You’re Emmett?”

“Yes.” For his huge stature, he seemed so kind and timid to her. She could hear him thinking about her. And it was so, so flattering.

“Are you dead?”

“Yes.”

“Then how are you alive?”

“I don’t know if I should answer that right now,” he said. “Let’s skip for now.”

“Was Bree dead?”

“I thought you already knew she was dead.” Emmett looked down. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“I meant… uhm… when you met her, for the first time, was she already dead?”

“Yes.”

“Explains why I can hear you twice.” She needed a minute to process all of this. How was she supposed to process all of this?

“Can you hear me think?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he said, lowering his head. “That’s kind of embarrassing.”

Fiona smiled, and chuckled. Which made Emmett smile and chuckle. It was quiet in the room for a minute. Fiona tried to sort out her thoughts and Emmett watched her.

“I really don’t want to cause any trouble for your family,” she said. “Can you just tell me what happened to my sister?”

“No one here hurt her,” Emmett said. “We were trying to save her but there are some people who just… get their way.”

“Why did they want to hurt her?”

“Can I skip?” he asked.

She nodded lightly. His vague answers were disappointing but he seemed genuine, and it was probably a “the less you know the better” kind of deal around here. Maybe she should’ve listened to Bree.

You think? Bree thought. She sounded weak after taking control of of Fiona.

“Am I going to die, Emmett?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“No, I’ve got you now. You’ll be safe with me.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

[stxleslyds]

MY TOUGHTS ON PART THREE OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY :)

A DC RENDITION OF THE SONG “MOTHER KNOWS BEST” FROM TANGLED.

Here I will leave the links to my reviews of Part 1 and Part 2

Well, here we are, three issues in this story of only six parts and i still cant tell if i like it or not. What i know for sure tho is that Zdarsky never read any Red Hood books, i had my suspicions but now i am at least 95% sure.

This Jason has been nerfed. We had a perfectly balanced Jason back in 2005 he was smart, skilled, confident and strategic. Then from 2011 to 2020 (let’s put the fact that Lobdell is trash aside for a moment) Jason was skilled, he had the whole “chosen one” thing going on with the all-castle, and in some moments you could even see him being quick witted and confident. But now in this first half of this story he is extremely insecure, his skill set and expertise is barely there and is presented as just reckless. 

The other day i was talking about how DC treats Jason, how they just can’t decide on who he is, what motivates him or what he wants. His personality is a whole ass mess, it was fine in 2005 and 2010 when Winick wrote him but then Lobdell from years 2011 to 2020 just couldn't decide what he wanted to do with Jason or his relationship with Batman and his rules. After Lobdell finally left Jason was passed around people who either only read Lobdell's work, or didn't read anything from him or didn't take into account Jason's life because their book was set in a future that may never happen. 

What i am trying to say is that Jason doesn't have a personality, and writers don't really add things to the Jason that we “know”, what they do is start his story from zero over and over again. There is no consistency to Jason's character and while you could argue that maybe this new start could be the definite version of Jason Todd/Red Hood i will point out that this nerfed version of him is a major disservice to the character that he was when he was brought back to DC.

It’s simply not nice. 

And in this particular issue the “Jason isn't that good at this whole vigilante gig” is even more pushed because of the whole “batman knows best” bullshit. I am not getting this (anthologies) book with a Red Hood story just for Batman to come in and be like “I am actually good at this job, you know nothing AND i have the moral high-ground”, this is NOT it.

If you are reading a Red Hood story chances are that you will be interested in Red Hood not Batman. 

Oh one more thing, Jason was an excellent Robin. He was kind, smart and skilled. I liked the flashbacks in UtRH because it showed Jason being all that but he also understood a couple of things about the kind of criminals that Gotham had, your common thug is easily scared of the concept of Batman but the dress-ups knew that no matter what they did the Bat would never kill them, that’s what Jason thought about criminals there.

This Robin Jason is treated rather poorly by Zdarsky at times, he feels insecure and inferior to Dick but he is also dismissive of him and the Robin mantle in the first issue, now in this one he is shown as way too reckless (which is kinda bad because it feeds into DCs favorite trope of “Jason’s death was Jason’s fault”) and his stance on “low level” criminals is weird, like it was made clear that drug related criminals are Jason’s biggest issue, thieves were not. 

Those are my general thoughts on this issue and the current state of Jason’s characterization. I have some panels from this issue that i want to talk about in more depth tho, so here we go. 

The issue stars were we left off once more, Tyler defends Jason and when Batman asks who he is Tyler says that he is the Blue Hood, that was really sweet of him, that child is adorable and he needs to be protected. 

Once the Bat distracts Tyler Jason tells the Bat that the man he killed was Tyler’s dad. 

There are a couple of things i want to point out from these panels, Jason feels incredibly guilty, not about killing Andy but about leaving Tyler in a situation that is similar to the one he was left in when his own mother died. He still believes that Andy was not a good man and deserved to be dead, after all he was drugging his own son and was the reason Tyler’s mom overdosed and is now in the hospital. It just hits incredibly close to home for Jason and i understand completely. 

The other thing i want to point out is that Jason says “I know your rules. No killing in Gotham” so, this is (to me) confirmation that Jason hasn’t killed in a long time and that he has been sticking to the Bat's rules (at least in Gotham). Andy (a drug-dealer) is the only person that Jason has killed since the events of UtRH (that are apparently canon in this story because it was mentioned in the first issue). 

Following this conversation the Bat says that he will take care of Tyler’s mother (yikes, i really thought in my last post that Jason was the one who would have tried to get her the help she needed, to me it seems more appropriate if Jason does it given that this is his story but what do I know) 

This is where this Red Hood story transforms into the Batman show.

Not only will Bruce take care of Tyler's mom but he will clean up the mess and shut down the making of the drug all by himself. Jason tells him that he will do it but the Bat tells Jason that if he wants to do it they will have to do it together because there is no way he is letting Jason out of his sight, he made a mess!

Yes, nothing like making the lead character look incompetent at his job. Love that for Jason.

Before the team up starts Batman and Red Hood go to Leslie's place to leave Tyler with her. This is a good moment only because there is a dog involved, well…Tyler, Jason and a dog are involved, best panel in the whole issue? I think yes.

Maybe I have a couple more panels that are my favs in this issue, here they are, a lil bit of positivity in this extra bitter post.

Now I will be honest, I hate Batman (Bruce’s Batman, love Dick Bats he was the MVP) so him saying that he is helping a Robin makes me want to shoot him. You are not helping; you are overtaking, as you do. Never a team player, the Batgod must always be the center of the show.

Back in the new cave Bruce talks to Jason about the drug and who he thinks might be behind it's production. He also makes sure to let Jason know that he is very smart and might be the only person outside of Crane's circle that knows how analyze a very unstable compound…weird flex but okay. He also teases Jason about his detective skills. Yay.

Flashback time! Get ready!

Robin Jason and Batman are at a crime scene and Jason doesn’t seem to be in the mood to play CSI: Gotham with Bruce.

At one moment Jason says “and then we will stomp the guy who did this” (“this” being murder), which makes Jim Gordon (who came to see if batman was done playing Sherlock Holmes) uncomfortable, so Batman tells Jason to wait for him. As Jason is going he sees someone acting suspicious.

Back to present day Batman and Red Hood are visiting the woman that created the compound that makes Fear Gas, the interrogation starts well but because this is the Batman show and Jason is bad at reading people and asking questions we have a scene that shows Jason being a bit too much.

I honestly thought that the first question was fair, but then after they leave the office they were in Batman basically goes on a rant about the things that Jason missed.

Ok, I get it Batman = good vigilante. Red Hood = Incompetent.

Zdarsky is honestly trying to make us believe that Jason hasn’t picked up any of those things, in his years as Robin with Batman AND Nightwing? They both taught him, there is no way Jason doesn’t know the basics of how to read people. Also do you guys remember Jason in UtRH and Lost Days? That guy read people perfectly, how is UtRH canon in this story, did Jason lose his skills in the explosion when he blew up the Joker?

As if that wasn’t enough Batman calls Red Hood reckless after they don’t agree on what to do next.

To this I say the following: Never again make me believe that Jason will willingly work with Batman. They don’t work together and neither are willing to meet each other halfway, even less let the other lead. This makes the idea of Jason following the Bat’s rules and him being part of the “Batfamily” the joke that it actually is.

They don’t work well together anymore; bring duality back to Gotham 2021.

Back in the past where the previous flashback is resumed we have Jim telling Batman that the new Robin seems a bit too rough around the edges. Did Jim ever meet Dick as Robin? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Dick was a sweetheart but he also beat criminals alongside batman every night. It just doesn’t feel like what Jason said was that much of a violent statement or anything, maybe I just don’t get it.

But don’t worry if you don’t get it, because we are shown Robin Jason going after that suspicious man, he is beating him asking if he knows anything about the murder or what exactly he was doing so close to the crime scene when Batman arrives. Through Batman we are told that that man was no longer a criminal, to which Jason says this, “…The guy is a jewel thief! He will always be a thief” and Batman responds “I refuse to believe that. Didn’t I meet you in the middle of stealing the Batmobile’s tires?”

I can’t believe Bruce went full “It’s over Jason. I have the moral high ground” on Robin Jason.

I mean Jason is OOC, we know this, but he has to be that way in order to make Batman look better when compared to a child. DC hates Jason Todd #Confirmed.

It kinda reminds me of that thing DC does with Dick and Barbara, Dick is skilled and smart as long as Barbara isn’t in the room, if she is then Dick will forget to check if there is someone inside his apartment and then be thrown across the room by her and then be told that he sucks at putting security in his living space.

Moving on...back to the present one last time Jason is interrogating a man while he dangles him from the edge of a building (did Dick teach him that? I bet he did.) After getting some information he calls Oracle so he can make sure that the place he is going to is safe. Oracle tells him the she will help him but she did not like the fact that the last time she helped him someone ended up dead.

Now, fair warning, Barbara and Jason big NO for me and after Geoff Johns and his antics in Three Jokers I have zero love for their “team-ups”.

Jason says this, 

Believing in him? Excuse me? Chonky, baby, she only helped you find a building.

All I can do at this point is pray to whichever god or whoever hears that this does not lead to Jason pinning for Barbara. We don’t need it (Barbara doesnt need it), I might be overreacting, I hope I am, but nobody wants that kind of drama right now, thanks.

When he arrives to the place he was looking for I think everyone can tell that it’s a trap, everyone but Jason apparently. 

How on earth does Jason not realize it’s a trap up until it’s too late? Are you joking? Is this a Red Hood story? Are we really doing this? Just how incompetent is Jason in Zdarsky’s eyes?

Freeze…is it Freeze? I don’t care but he is there, he freezes Jason and that’s the end of the issue.

Listen, I wish I could say that this is the worst Jason has been treated and that this book is horrible, I wish but I can’t. I can’t do it because this isn’t the worst characterization or book of Jason, this is still a pretty good story, could it be better? Yes.

I mean this story is written by someone who obviously doesn’t know Jason and that sucks but it still isnt the worst characterization and it messes me up. Three Jokers was worse than this, certain plot decisions in Future State: Red Hood were worse than this (in my opinion) and Lobdell’s New52 RHatO was pure trash (that is the worst book, just horrible please dont read it). 

I am saying this only to make it clear that even tho this issue was painful (mostly if you don’t like Batman) I still have hope that it can turn out to be good. I cant help it, i want and need this story to be good and there is still time for it to get better. 

Alright thats all i have to say, let me know what you thought about this issue and my review, bye!

[redjaybathood]

Okay so the issue 6 has good and bad. But tumblr didn't let me save a post with good stuff included so here is it, only bad

[Jason: "I'm giving up the guns. Yeah, I've been using Rubber bullets lately, but... none of it feels okay now." Bruce: "Jason... I'm glad. It's the right..." Jason: "I actually don't want to hear it, Bruce. This isn't me doing it for you. I think some people should die. And those people... I still want to hurt them, Bruce. I just don't want to hurt anyone else. And death has a way of rippling out to others. That's all. I'm just figuring out some new ways."] If Zdarsky made Jason say something like "you were right, Bruce" I would have flipped the table. All in all, this makes sense in a story where he shoots a guy and also knows his kid - and is faced with the need to actually tell that kid that his father isn't coming back. And that's where we go to the bad stuff: - First 4 issues nerfed Jason and made him OOC: getting erratic, aggressive towards drug users instead of drug dealers; being completely unable to the track drug manufacturer in Gotham without Bruce's help (that's why I loved issue 5 so much, it gave us the regular Jason back); killing by accident and not by intention. It's all makes sense in the end, because this whole story supports one simple idea: "Killing people takes a toll on the victim's family (Tyler) and on the killer (Jason)". On Tyler, he was made an orphan not unlike Jason himself was. That's an obvious consequence, even if Jason killed his dad intentionally, it would be still the same. On Jason, him being used to killing in the past + getting triggered/dissociating under the stress lead to him accidentally killing the guy he wanted but didn't plan to kill. But the thing is, it kinda... not true? It's plausible but not supported by the previously established canon. He never killed anyone he didn't intend to kill before, he never had the same reaction to drug deals that was shown in Cheer. Even at his most villainous, he has never killed by accident. Whereas plenty of people in Batfam who didn't intend to kill, and never did that before, had done so. Or Batman, for example, he is very against killing and yet the only thing that stood between him killing Cheer was Jason. He was on drugs, yes, but that's the thing; there's plenty of reasons you could be driven to kill someone and that's not necessarily past experience with murder. Look, I get what Chip Zdarsky was trying to do. Doesn't mean I like it. It would have been a more effective story, and more true to Jason's previously established character, if he killed Tyler's dad intentionally, and still realized that consequences he disregarded before (Tyler) are not worth it to him anymore. But he just wanted to tell another story, bring some focus to Jason's mental state? Which, if it was a story from before New52, alright, sure. It doesn't ring true anymore though. I also really don't like his "bad Robin" flashbacks and him saying "I still want to hurt them" - like, the point of Red Hood was never about hurting, it was about stopping. It's similar but different. - Jason leaving guns behind. Doesn't make sense, even if Zdarsky addresses it by Jason saying: I used rubber bullets for a while, but still it doesn't feel right. Well, what doesn't? If he used rubber bullets for a while, what's the difference? Is it supposed to signify that Jason is traumatized by killing someone? Jason? Ok, whatever, they want him to use All-Caste's Soul Swords I guess. It's cool but there doesn't have to be a deep reason for it. He can just change to swords because the challenges he faces in the future are better handled with them: like a horde of zombies. - Fan reaction to the conclusion of the story. All the Batfamily feels, all the "he stopped using the guns, it's a win!". First, Jason isn't back with Batfam. Them having his back? I'm pretty sure they're there for Bruce. And Bruce? Whose drug-induced happiness is him killing the Joker and accepting Jason back into the fold? Very bullshit. If he wanted to, he would have already invited Jason to a fucking family dinner. And he has no right to give or take away Jason's uniform with a red bat. Excuse me, did he

copyrighted that logo? I don't think so. It's not his fucking city, god. Why don't you go ban Joker from Gotham, Bruce! Yeah, didn't think so. In short: batfam feels, what fucking batfam feels? wake the fuck up, guys. Second. Leaving the guns behind? He's not doing it because he's healed, or whatever you guys are excited about. He just realized he has a problem. The issue with this is, the problem was specifically created so he could leave the guns behind. Get me? - Symbolism. Jason realizing he can't save Bruce without a Batsuit, him finding the suit too heavy and thus failing to save Bruce anyway, and ofc not actually being able to save Bruce without the rest of the gang showing up. That's just no. Tl;dr: Cheer would be a good story outside of continuity. Especially if Jason's detective skills weren't nerfed, and his aggressiveness wasn't exaggerated in the first issues.

[nanamismami]

high. suna x reader

and to my message you reply

hi. is this another suna fic based around “why’d you only call me when you’re high”? yeah...whateva

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

warnings: angst, toxic relationship, drug use, nsfw if you squint your eyes and do a little dance, vomit (suna got sick:(), fluff

genre: angst, fluff

wordcount: 2104

a/n: is it fanon? yeah. a little ooc? yeah. sorry :(

fic below da line :)

        a late night always holds many possibilities. a party, a date, at the least a break from the status-quo. yet somehow you always manage to find yourself at the exact same spot every time.

        suna’s front porch had changed several time since you first started rendezvousing with him. he had a habit of buying large plants, but forgetting to take care of them.

“the only thing he spends more money on than weed is houseplants,” you chuckle. he was still calling you, though he had failed to open the door after five minutes of knocking. you retrieved a key from the underneath of a dying hydrangea plant and let yourself in.

        not all of his late night calls were for personal pleasure. there’s been many times where he needed a place to hide from an angry dealer, or an extra $20 from his doting partner. more often than not, he needed someone to ease him off of a bad high. suna has bought laced all too many times, and couldn’t turn to any other responsible figure but you. “you’re really good at it,” he would tell you when you inquired about him calling someone else for once.

        his messages were a frenzy of “i need help”, “please come over”, and a million other vies for your company. it had been like this for about seven months: he phones you, you get pissed, and yet you still show up to his doorstep. admittedly, your meetings were generally for sex. you weren’t ashamed of it; but he was. 

you told yourself you wouldn’t ever stand for a shitty relationship. yet here you were: a glorified booty call for an emotionally distant man. he only kept you around by taking you on the occasional date. buying you a gifts when he thought you needed one. empty promises of “we’ll put a label on it soon, they’ll know soon.” you knew it was a lie, he did too. but what if one day it wasn’t? what if one of these days he really did mean it? you could get intoxicated off of that feeling, fulfilling his every request for a bit of attention. there was nothing you wouldn’t do to hear “i love you” cascade from that boy’s lips.

        pushing into his house, you see him in a crouching position in front of his couch and, god, was he shivering?

        “rin? what the hell happened?” you said to him. you didn’t yell for fear of breaking the odd calmness he seemed to be in. his reaction to your worried questioning was delayed. his usual cat-eyed stare was almost comically large. 

        “went t’ a party. took ‘sum. don’t feel good,” he managed to slur out. you threw a large knit blanket over his shoulders and sat next to him. “what did you take?”

“a tab.” 

“of what?”

“i don’t know.”

        great. you knew the rest of the people at the party were probably just as high and would be of no help. 

        not knowing what else to do, you moved him to sit on the couch and grabbed a glass of water. it’s not the first time this has happened, and still he never remembers in the morning. every time he’d wake up and find himself in your arms, he’d blame it on the high and take a shower. suna never asked about the money you spent on ibuprofen to make him feel better, or the hours you’d spent soothing his paranoid psyche, or hell, the shower you’d already given him because he’d made a mess of himself. he never knew about the frantic research you did trying to find out how to detoxify whatever drug he managed to find himself on that night. that’s not what matters right now, though. not to him at least.

        “how long ago did you take it?” you asked him. he was sat with his chin resting on his knees, hesitantly taking small sips of water.

“an hour ‘fore i left the party, bout two.”

        was there ever a time he checked on you? did he stay up late wondering if you were safe? he did seem to care some about you... anything physical, he bought for you. he always left you feeling satisfied. was it okay to want more? is that what you deserve? of course it is. you should be with someone who treats you with sincerity. someone who shows your beautiful face off to their friends. someone who when they talk to you, they aren’t-

        you checked your phone. three: twenty-seven. there’s no point in trying to regurgitate it now. his hands were shaky, and lost grip of the plastic cup containing probably his only source of hydration within the last twelve hours.

the loud crash of his cup on the hardwood helped direct you to the true nature of the relationship you found yourself in. the silence of the home as you went to refill his water didn't help either.

        the sudden rush of water falling from the cup onto your hand caused you to jerk you arm back and shut the faucet off. turning around, you’re met with a looming body and a hazy gaze.

        “you’re taking too long,” he commented.

        you set the cup down and looked up at him. you had a right to know what he was thinking, even if it wasn’t clear at the moment.

        “rin…” you whispered. he bore down at you and his eyes sharpened ever so slightly. he must be a bit more cognizant of his surroundings, even better for your question.

            “why do you only call me when you’re high?’

        in your head, it was beautifully executed. the moonlight coming in from the sliding glass door, your enunciation, his careful gaze. christ, it could be straight from a movie.

        suna was a very bad actor. your performance was rewarded with a pile of vomit at your feet and a half passed out man leaning on your shoulder. you guided him back to the couch and laid him on his side, then cleaning up the kitchen. 

       coming back, you find him awake again, lousily sitting on the couch. he at least had washed his face and changed his clothes.

        “i’m cold. come hold me,” he demanded

        you really couldn’t help the smirk on your face. he was so needy when he was like this. obediently, you sat facing suna, and he launched himself on top of you. maybe this is why you stay. it was satisfying feeling needed by a man who wanted for very little. you stroked his dark hair and lightly kissed the shell of his ear. “do you feel any better, sweetheart?” you only call him names when he won’t remember them. sober suna would roll his eyes and ask you to not call him that.

        “you make me feel better.” honesty wasn’t ever a symptom of his current state but hey, you’ll take it.

         in fact, you’ll take full advantage of it. “rin, you’re not going to remember this in the morning, are you?” you knew what the answer was

“...i will.”

        your eyebrows knit together and you pull his face to meet yours. his arms snake their way around your neck, his weight forcing you to lay down. suna shoved his face into the crook of your neck. he breathed out lightly, refusing to meet your eyes.

        “y/n...why are you so good to me?” is he aware of what he’s saying? does this mean he’s remembered every other time and refused to acknowledge it? questioning his integrity might just ruin it, so you only massaged his scalp.

“because i want to rin. you make me happy, and i want to.” a half lie; would he care?

“but you could be happier without me. i dont get it.” 

        “i love you too, ya’ know.” it was a concerningly matter of fact statement, especially from him. “i wish i could show you. you're just so pretty, and smart, and just so... so good. you’re pretty scary, you know that? how am i supposed to be vulnerable with someone like you?" 

         if the ever observant middle blocker couldn’t figure it out, how the hell would you? there’s only so many things you can fully understand.

“because i love you, rintarou.”

you probably shouldn’t have said that, and you knew it. never once had either of you brought up that word. it could easily be the rock to shatter the glass house.

        his soliloquy is almost laughable, it’s only what he knows what you want to hear.

“are you still high?”

“not really. my stomach hurts though. and i’m kinda hungry.”

        he didn’t get up. instead, he asked you to roll over so that you were both lying on your side. 

        you had no idea if he was being truthful. he isn’t exactly one to say i love you so freely. but he knows you are close to leaving. a slightly calloused thumb strokes your cheek and lifts your chin,

“i meant it.”

“no, rin. you didn’t.”

        a look of genuine hurt colored his otherwise bored face. did he really mean it?

        “were you telling the truth?” he asks.

        were you? there wasn’t exactly another explanation for your actions.

        “i think so, yeah.”

        “then so was i.” you thought it was bull, opting to shut him up before he could give you anymore false hope. before you could kiss his face, he beat you to it.

“that’s bullshit, rin.”

        it was tentative, hesitant. he knew you weren’t really convinced. if there was a god, he prayed that they would make his testament of truth pass from his lips to yours. if there was one thing he knew he couldn’t live without, it was you. he would not be able to tie his own shoes if you weren’t there to teach him. but how were you supposed to know that. he fucked up big time, why was he just now realizing it?

“after our first date, i told the whole team i was gonna marry you.”

“the coach too.”

        suna rintarou telling the entirety of ejp about his love life is laughable. you wanted to believe it, really, you did.

        “that doesn’t line up with everything else that’s been going on.”

        “y/n i-i know. i’m sorry. i’ll change.” his pleading was pathetic, to be honest. he’s made those same promises before.

        he was desperate at this point. suna knew he was in the wrong. there had to be a way to save this; he didn’t like seeing you sad, seeing you leave.

        he pulled his phone out, pressing a few buttons here and there. “look!” he said, shoving a new instagram post in your face. it was the only picture he had of the both of you together. he had let you take it. it was a timed photo, facing the two of you in his reading chair. you sat sideways in sunas lap, and your arms were tightly wrung around his neck. he was looking down at you, and you were pretty sure (you hope) he was smiling a little. the caption of his post was simply a heart.

“that’s just a social media post.”

        there was that word again. he looked like he was about to cry and there was emotion in his voice, could he really be lying? 

“baby please. i’m serious. i’ll do anything."

the usual flat tone of his monotone voice began to have some melody to it. against his own will, it was shaky, trying to find the best words to sing.

"i’ll take you out every day, a-and i’ll get you front seat tickets to my game. anything, love, please just don’t leave me.”

        there’s something sweet in a statement that you don’t know the validity of. you can dance around it, pretend it’s true, pretend it’s false. sometimes, you can choose for yourself what tune to dance to. that’s what you’re doing now.

        suna’s large hand was petting your cheekbone, and one of his legs was thrown around your body, imprisoning yourself to his ambiguity. how would you win his approval if you disregarded his one showing of vulnerability?

        “i would never leave you rin. now get the fuck up so we can go to your bed and sleep.”

        his sheets were a pleasant greeting compared to his scratchy couch. he laid flat on his back, pulling you so that half of your body was on his. he slowly leaned toward you, kissing you forehead, nose, cheek, and just about anywhere else he could on your face, finishing with your lips.

        you could definitely tell he was lying about how deep his true lack of sobriety was when he threw you over his shoulder, his bad posture refusing to adjust for the added weight.

 he always knew you cared too deeply about him, but getting see what you did for him when he wasn't supposed to know. it did things to him. his bedroom door was already open, and he jokingly tossed you onto the bed. not enough to hurt you, but enough to convey his desire for a bit more normality. because that's what other couples did, right? he was trying.

“goodnight, y/n. i love you.”

        it was almost instinctual, the way you smiled and chastely pecked his lips. laying your head back down on his chest, you sighed airily.

“i love you too, rintarou.”

[theangriestpea]

The Killing Type | One

Summary: Just when Lavender thought things were going great with Sweet Pea, a new girl comes back to turn to turn their entire relationship upside down. Now they have to navigate a world of drug dealers, rival gangs, and co-parenting. Sequel to Mercy Killing. <ao3> <masterlist> 

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Sweet Pea x OC // eventual Jughead Jones x OC

Warnings: referenced teen pregnancy, referenced sexual assault, cheating/lying, PTSD  

Word Count: 5k+

A/N: I cannot believe I wrote this is such a short amount of time, omg. As stated on the final chapter of Mercy Killing, this is a sequel to both Mercy Killing and @the-gargoyle-queen​‘s fic Young Gods. The timelines for both are a little screwed up to make them converge. We begin this series at the end of sophomore year with no time between Mercy Killing chapter 16 and Chapter 1 of The Killing Type, and one year after Young Gods. Try not to focus too much on the lack of continuity for the sake of future plot. I think Lily is a bit OOC in this chapter....I made her into an uber bitch and she's not.

Chapter One - A Mercy Killing 

Lavender stared at Jughead, not at all understanding what he meant by forgiving Sweet Pea. What had he done this time? Of course the two fought more often than not over petty things but they made up hours, sometimes minutes later. It was just their dynamic. “Who is she?” She pressed as he looked at his buzzing phone again.

“Lily is Sweet Pea’s ex but I think he should really be the one to tell you all of it.” He said, his anxiety starting to show with his tone of voice. Lav made a face that he couldn't quite tell what it meant. “Listen, just try to get his side of things before exploding on him, okay?”

She stiffened, not liking his accusation of her tendency to react dramatically to any inconvenience no matter how minor. “Why did no one tell me about her? All this time and I’ve literally never even heard her name before. I don’t understand what the big deal is!” Her voice started to edge on the side of frantic as panic began to flood through her. Who was this girl and why did no one mention her?

Jughead sighed. “It’s complicated, Lav. Sweet Pea told us not to mention her around him. We all agreed that it would be better for you and him if you just didn’t know what went down between them.”

“So, everyone collectively decided that I, Sweet Pea’s girlfriend, didn’t need to know about someone who was obviously very important to him? Why is he hiding her from me, does he still have feelings for her or something?” She asked, her tone turning accusatory. Jughead put his hands up to try and calm her down, but instead she stood. “Whatever, Jug. I’m going home. Have fun talking to your new best friend.”

“She’s not-!” Before he could finish she had slammed the door behind her. Jughead sighed and sunk down into the old couch. Things were about to get a lot more complicated.

Lavender made a bee-line for her trailer as fast as her short legs would carry her. She was fuming at the thought that everyone kept some big secret from her, and worse of all she was dying to know what it was. She sent a quick text to Sweet Pea, demanding he come over to “come clean” when he was done with his job. Sweet Pea, being ever the oblivious asshole, had no idea what he needed to come clean about but figured the purple haired girl would fill him in when he got there.

Hours later, once Sweet Pea was done running bike parts to Centerville, he walked into the Rhodes trailer having no idea what shit storm was about to be thrown at him.

First of all, he found his girlfriend curled up on the couch in a state of drunkenness that he hadn’t seen her in in many months. Immediately he thought something had happened, she had a PTSD episode or someone made threats. In an instant he was by her side, her thin shoulders in his hands to get her to look at him.

“Who is she?” Lav slurred, eyes red from crying. Every worst case scenario had gone through her head. Was he cheating on her? Did he have some other life that she had no clue about and he was keeping it from her? How could this girl that she knew nothing about cause her so much grief?

Sweet Pea’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Who is who?” He asked, having no inkling of what in the world she was talking about. “Why did you drink so much?”

“Lily Owens.” Lav spat hotly, “Who is she?!” Her voice began to raise with notes of hysteria. She was so worked up and heartbroken and she had no idea why.

His blood ran cold as he stared at her. He had hoped that he could have approached the subject of his ex eventually, when the time was right. But Lavender was so god damn sensitive that he didn’t think that time would ever come. The insecurity she felt after the attack by the Ghoulies was so great that sometimes he felt trapped in that even talking to a girl she didn’t know had her upset.

They had a long talk about it once and she agreed to get it handled in therapy. And she did get better but there were times when he knew she just couldn’t help it. They had broken her so thoroughly that it was going to take time. He sighed softly, trying not to show how aggravated he was. “She’s my ex, Shanna. I was going to wait to tell you this but...She’s coming back to town in a few days and she needs a place to stay...with our daughter.”

“Your what?” Lav asked, somehow finding the fact that he had a child with another woman was way worse than him cheating on her. “You had a kid and never thought to tell me?!” Fresh tears came to her eyes and quickly fell down her face that was flushed pink from inebriation. “Don’t you think that was something I’d need to know?”

He flinched, feeling the hurt roll off of her in waves. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d overreact!”

“Overreact?!” She yelled, her voice finally raising. “Are you fucking kidding me?! You kept a whole ass family secret from me, Sweet Pea! Get out. Just get OUT.”

His eyes narrowed as he stood, releasing his grip from her. “You always do this! You always fly off of the goddamn handle over every little thing. So I have a daughter, so what? I’ve never even met her! Lily ran off pregnant and had her without me there, so yeah I don’t bring it up because I’d rather not think about being a dad at sixteen! You’re not the only fucked up person in this relationship!”

She stared at him with stunned silence and he knew he had gone too far, as he always did. Sweet Pea just huffed angrily before turning and leaving in a manner exactly as she had from the Jones trailer earlier that day.

The next two days, Lavender spoke to no one. Not Jughead, Not Fangs, and especially not Sweet Pea. He hadn’t even bothered to text or to call as she was always the one to give in first. Still, the fact that he wasn’t even trying to patch things up between them only served to hurt her more.

Fangs had left her small apologetic presents at her doorstep. Flowers, snack cakes, chocolate, even a bottle of her favorite rum. While she accepted the gifts, she still refused to speak to him. His messages were all left on read.

Jughead and Toni had both sent only one apology text, while both seemed pretty heartfelt, they were also denied any kind of answer from her. It was only after an hour and a half long intense therapy session did she decide to try and make up with all of them. Her therapist had helped her realize that Sweet Pea was put in a difficult position from the start of their relationship with her trauma and intense insecurity. In the end, she concluded that he wasn’t purposefully trying to hurt her. He was trying to save her. It just ended up blowing up in his face.

She had picked up a carton of Marlboros for him and was walking up to his trailer. She didn’t notice whether or not his bike was on the side of the house, and dismissed the beaten up car parked on the street as a neighbor’s. It could have easily been someone else’s. Or maybe his dad was finally out of rehab?

Knowing that he was possibly still upset with her, she chose not to use her key to walk in. Instead she knocked on the door in her usual fashion and waited, cigarettes in hand. What she didn’t expect (but totally should have) was for a teenage girl to open the door.

She was shorter than Lav by about an inch, brunette, and absolutely stunning. Lavender's heart fell into her stomach. “O-Oh,” She stuttered, “I thought-”

“He’s not home.” The girl said in a somewhat flat tone. She had learned all about the person in front of her from Jughead. He filled her in on all of Sweet Pea’s doings while she was gone. “But you can come in and wait for him. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The door opened wider and Lavender looked inside, noticing that now the trailer was littered with baby clothes, toys, and assorted things necessary to take care of a child. The scene made it all too clear to Lavender that Lily, who she assumed opened the door, was now living with Sweet Pea. Suddenly she was breaking all over again and the progress she made in therapy was virtually gone.

“I should go.” Lavender mumbled, unsure of where she fell in this new hierarchy. “Can you just tell him that I came by? I need to talk to him.”

“You’re Lavender, right?” Lily asked and she nodded in response. “I’m Lily. I think we should talk. Come in, it’ll be easier than standing out here. Daisy is asleep so don’t worry about her.”

Lav did not at all feel comfortable talking to her, but the backfiring of a nearby car put her so on edge that she had no choice but to hide inside. She felt idiotic by being set off at a time like this. The intense need to hide somewhere where she felt safe overrode her discomfort with the situation at hand.

Lily seemed to have some knowledge of what was going through the other girl’s head. She noticed her jump and frantically check her surroundings at the loud sound. Jughead and mentioned her PTSD and that Lily should tread carefully for the time being. After knowing what happened with the Ghoulies, Lily ultimately felt pity for Lavender and not contempt...Though if she were completely honest, there was a little of that too.

It was clear to Lily that Lavender was very disoriented by the sudden amount of baby things around the living room, as well as an open suitcase that had all of Lily’s belongings in them.

The current girlfriend sat down on the chair that Sweet Pea fell asleep in way too often and sunk down into the cushions as if she were trying to disappear from sight. Lily took a seat on the couch, wondering if the awkwardness was going to go away any time soon.

“So you live here?” Lav finally asked, nearly flinching under the look Lily gave her. The question seemed much too obvious, of course she was living here. She had nowhere else to go.

“Yes.” Lily said, her voice a little more curt than she initially intended. “We needed a place to stay since my mom stayed in Toledo. Sweet Pea said it was okay. Is there a problem with that?”

“No! Not at all.” Lavender said quickly, wishing she had turned and ran when she had the chance. “Sweet Pea just didn’t tell me…”

Lily huffed, of course he didn’t. “We need to talk about that.” Of course, she still had residual feelings for the serpent. He was the father of her child. And the way he had ended things were so messed up. Plus he had said when she came back they could start all over. Obviously that wasn’t going to happen now.

“I get that you’re his girlfriend now. I mean, I never expected him to pick a Northsider over…” She stopped, seeing the hurt expression on Lavender’s face brought on a wave of guilt. “You really had no idea about me, did you?”

“No…” Lav said, her voice so soft that Lily almost didn’t hear it. “We never talked about past relationships. Look, I really need to go. Can you just give these to him for me?” She asked, motioning towards the carton of cigarettes in her lap.

“When did you start dating?” She asked, her tone serious.

“Three months ago but we hooked up the July before that….” Lav admitted, not wanting to withhold anything.

“July?” Lily asked and Lav sensed the anger in her voice. “I knew he was cheating on me. I knew it.” She hissed under her breath, not meaning for Lav to actually hear her.

Pain ripped through Lavender’s chest. He had still been in a relationship with Lily that night? She felt like she was going to throw up. She abruptly stood. “I-I’m sorry, I…” She didn’t know what she could say to make any of this better.

“I’m not blaming you.” Lily quickly said after a small sigh. “You didn’t know….How could you have known that I was about to give birth to his daughter? Of course he’s so fucking selfish he didn’t even say anything about it to either of us.”

Lav was holding back tears to the best of her ability. The thought of being the other woman, even for just one night, made her want to lock herself up and drink herself into oblivion. Really she only stayed away from the unhealthy coping mechanism when Sweet Pea was around. Right now, it didn’t seem as if he’d have time to be around for very long. He had a baby to take care of.

“I’m sorry,” She apologized again, really just having no idea how to handle this situation. She backed towards the door, reaching for the handle when it swung open. Sweet Pea was there, looking as tired as ever. A confused look crossed his face when he saw the tears threatening to fall from Lavender’s eyes.

“Shanna?” He asked, not knowing what Lily had done to make her upset...if she had done anything. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to apologize but.” She was too upset to be angry at anyone other than herself. “I need to go home. I got you some cigarettes...here.” She shoved them into his hands before nimbly squeezing past him and running off.

Sweet Pea looked down at the carton before looking up at Lily. “What did you do ?” He asked, his voice threatening to raise.

“You slept with her before you broke up with me.” Lily said, her voice low but angry. “You didn’t end things until August. You said, you said we could start over if I came back, Sweet Pea. You promised me that we would try for Daisy.”

He felt utterly lost. He had loved Lily so much but her leaving had him feeling so alone that he needed something . His dad had started his first stint in rehab and had been in and out since. He was so completely alone with no one to hold at night. Initially he had felt terrible about it but the guilt went away because in the end she had left him when she said she never would.

“You left, Lily. What did you expect?” He asked, his voice icy. “You abandoned me like everyone else did. How did you think I could continue to love you after that?” Her hand reared back and slapped him hard across the face, the sound bouncing off the walls of the trailer. And deep down he knew that he deserved nothing less.

Lavender returned to her trailer, attempting to put herself back together. She had truly wanted to work things out with Sweet Pea and didn’t have the strength to curse him to hell when she saw him. And the look on his face when he saw her. Past his confusion was definite regret. The softness of his eyes made her want nothing more than to be held by him. She wasn’t sure if that was ever going to happen now.

She eyed the bottle of rum on her kitchen counter and she knew that she should resist it’s calls. Did she really want to wake up with a hangover tomorrow? It seemed better than feeling heartbroken at his point.

As she reached for it, she heard a knock on her door. Lav let out a sigh of relief to have been stopped before she drowned herself yet again. She went to the door to see her boyfriend standing there, looking equal parts pissed off and broken down. His left cheek was bright red and starting to bruise and she knew that Lily must have hit him.

She said nothing as she opened the door for him and he walked in, hands clenched into fists. He was clearly agitated but not at her. That was evident enough in him not screaming at her when she opened the door. He saw the bottle of alcohol sitting out in the open and made a straight line to it.

Lav felt as if she were about to cry again, this time for him. Because like her, Sweet Pea also had a habit of hitting the bottle when he felt like the lowest of the low. Of course, she was still very much heart broken by his actions before but seeing him in pain was a whole new kind of ache. It was one that she found herself hating more.

“Wait,” She called out just as he grabbed the bottle by the neck. “Pea, can we talk first? I promise not to yell at you…” Her voice showed her weakness, but she didn’t really mind since he was the one hearing it.

Sweet Pea let out a tired sigh and nodded. He carried the bottle to the couch and sat down with a heavy thud, keeping the rum in hand as if in case of emergency. Lav gently sat down next to him, turned sideways on the seat to face him fully. “Can you just...explain to me what’s going on?”

“I fucked up.” Sweet Pea said, scowling at himself, “again.”

She knew his biggest fear right now was her leaving him. While she thought she had abandonment issues, his own were far worse. “Just tell me what happened.” She said, her voice gentle to show that her being upset wasn’t as important as what was going on with him currently.

“I loved her, you know? I didn’t mean for her to get pregnant.” Sweet Pea said, his voice extremely quiet. He very rarely opened up like this. And him doing it sober was a first. “Then she left. She left like everyone else leaves. And you’re probably going to leave too because I always mess everything up. I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend or baby daddy or whatever. I’m just a teenager. I just don’t know.”

Lav put a hand on his leg, moving closer to him as a few stray tears escaped her eyes. “I’m not leaving you. I just want to know everything. That’s it. I’m sorry I blew up on you the other day. I should have let you have a chance to explain. It seems that I don’t know how to be a good girlfriend either…”

He let out another sigh as he set the bottle down on the table in front of him and pulled her into his arms. He hated for anyone to see him like this, but he hated being alone even more.

He buried his face into her blonde roots and just breathed in the scent of her vanilla shampoo. Lav nuzzled her face into his chest, listening to him breathe. "I told her I'd try, Shanna. Before you. Before everything. I promised her."

Lavender squeezed her eyes shut, having no idea why she was going to say what she was about to. "If you have to," she couldn't even say it. "I understand, Sweet Pea. It's okay. I'll be okay."

That wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he appreciated her willingness all the same. "Can I stay here tonight? One last time?"

She couldn't stop the silent tears from coming and in truth she didn't want to. "Of course, Pea. One last time."

The next morning, Lavender awoke to find herself alone in her bed. The spot where Sweet Pea had slept the night before was still warm. She sighed softly, not having the emotional energy to even cry over the loss of their intimate relationship. Could they even function as friends? They weren’t friends before they started dating, so how could she expect them to be after? She had no idea what she was going to do without him by her side almost every night. Perhaps it was time to talk to Fangs again.

She called him over after attempting to shower the sadness off of her. She put on clean underwear and lounge-wear as she waited for him to come over. Fangs came crashing through the door like a puppy who had missed his owner, grinning at her and quickly making his way to the couch.

He stopped grinning when he saw the forlorn expression on her face. “What’s wrong, babe?” He asked, taking her hands into his.

“We broke up last night.” She muttered. “Because he...he promised Lily before we were together that they could start over when she returned.”

Fangs was frowning. While he loved both Lily and Sweet Pea, he had long since come to the conclusion that they were much better as friends and not as lovers. But, he also knew that Sweet Pea intended to keep any promise he had made if he could. And though he could tell his friend was visibly upset, he was surprised to not find her crying and drinking. Despite it being only ten AM.

“I wish I had told you, Lavie.” He said in a quiet voice, pulling her into his chest to try and soothe the heart he knew to be aching in her chest. “I’m so sorry. You deserved to know. I just thought...you were doing so well…”

“It’s okay, Fangs.” She mumbled, her voice muffled by his t-shirt. “You had made a promise too. I just...I just don’t know where to go from here. I mean, I thought that I might...you know…”

He pulled her away, looking over her flushing face. “That you might love him?”

She groaned, “please don’t say it out loud. It sounds so stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He bit back, almost angrily. “It’s not stupid at all. Come on, let’s go to the quarry. It’s finally warm enough to swim!”

Lavender froze. She had many plaguing thoughts about wearing a bathing suit in front of others. While all her wounds had healed perfectly well, she still had long, thick bands of scar tissue across her thighs and stomach, with a few smaller ones on her chest. Sweet Pea was so far the only one she had let see them since she was able to shower alone and clothe herself. The thought of anyone else possibly seeing them made her sick to her stomach.

“I don’t feel like getting wet, I just took a shower.” She lied, hoping he wouldn’t call her on it. Unfortunately today was not a day that Fangs was feeling particularly intuitive.

He cocked his head to the side, “but you love to swim. It’ll cheer you up!”

“I don’t have a bathing suit that fits.” She lied again, hoping that maybe he’d either catch the hint or drop it. “My boobs got bigger over the winter and mine are all too small now.”

His eyes looked at her chest as if to examine it. If it were anyone else, she’d be offended, however it was him so she knew it was not meant to be explicitly lewd. “They look about the same to me. You can always wear a bra or something instead.”

Lavender wanted to hit him upside the head for being so dense. She knew he wasn't purposefully being obtuse but it was still grating her nerves. “Fangs. I don’t want to go swimming.” Her voice was a little more firm now in an attempt to get through to him.

A puppy-dog look crossed his face as he pouted at her. “But...Lavie...it’ll be fun…You can wear some of my trunks if you want?”

She let out a sigh of defeat, “alright. Bring me some with a drawstring so I can tie them tight otherwise they’ll just fall right off.” His pout was replaced with a broad smile as he all but cheered with success.

Fangs left but was back five minutes later with a pair of black swim trunks for her. He happily handed them over as she went into her room to change. She put on a purple bikini, which still fit perfectly fine, before putting on his pants. She then put on an old form-fitting T-shirt that kept all of her scar tissue covered.

As she looked herself over in the mirror, she frowned. She looked utterly ridiculous but it was better than exposing the truth. She didn’t want anyone to be reminded of that day back in early January.

She finally came out of the bedroom to see Fangs packing a bag of snacks and a cooler of beer for them. “Jones and Topaz are meeting us there. I hope that’s okay.” He said, his back turned to her.

“That’s fine…” Lav mumbled awkwardly. She had already forgiven them as well, and hoped that they’d help her forget about her ruined love life.

They made it to the quarry, the sun shining high above them. Toni and Jughead were on the small beach, clad in their swim gear already. They both gave Lavender strange looks at her attire. “My, uh...bikini doesn’t fit anymore.” She said, but the only one to catch the lie this time was Toni who gave her a worried look.

“Lily will be here in a few with Daisy.” Jughead said as he typed a message onto his phone. A panicked look crossed Lavender’s face.

“Jughead...why would you do that?” She asked as Toni elbowed him in the ribs. He looked up, appearing like a deer in headlights. It hadn’t really occurred to him how awkward it might be for her. Really he just wanted to hang out with her, having missed her all these months. It had almost been a full year since he’d seen her last.

Toni sighed, obviously aggravated by his lack of thought. “Lily is cool, Lavie. Don’t worry about her.”

Lavender tried not to think about their only interaction. Lily had called her a Northsider, reminiscent of Sweet Pea back before they were dating. It was an insult that she hated. She couldn’t help that she had grown up mostly on the Northside or that she didn’t dress like a typical Serpent. She enjoyed soft colors a bit too much and flannel looked terrible on her.

“Okay.” Lav forced herself to say as she plucked a can of beer out of the cooler Fangs had brought. “I guess meeting Sweet Pea’s daughter would be kind of cool.”

“That’s the spirit!” Fangs said cheerfully as he stripped off his shirt. “Let’s go!”

He attempted to pull her into the water. “Fangs! I’m trying to drink, I’ll join you in a minute!” She pleaded with him, trying her best not to spill any PBR in the process.

“Oh fine, you have five minutes so you better chug it or I’m throwing you in.” He let her go, shaking his head before him and Toni raced to the water.

Jughead was quiet. “You broke up with him.” He said, his voice low so that the others wouldn’t hear. “So he could be with Lily….”

“Yea.” Lav replied as she took a gulp from the can.

"I know why you're wearing that ridiculous get-up, Lavie." He mumbled to her. "You don't have to hide it from us. I'm sure they're barely noticeable."

She frowned, refusing to look at him. "I didn't want to come at all. This was a compromise with Fangs. He was too dumb to figure it out."

Jughead grabbed a beer for himself and sat down, motioning her to join him. She sat down next to him on the makeshift log bench. "Figures. At least his heart is in the right place."

They watched Toni and Fangs splash one another. "How are you holding up, really?" He finally asked.

She opened her mouth to answer when she saw Sweet Pea, Lily, and Daisy approaching, she quickly shut it. "Don't worry about it." She said, throwing her head back to finish off the beer in her hand.

Jughead frowned, wanting her to open up but also knowing that she wouldn't now. Who knows if she ever would. He knew that the progress she had made was about to backslide thanks to her and Sweet Pea no longer being together. Despite the rocky beginning, they truly were good for one another.

He wanted to say something encouraging, but failed at the sight of Lily. This did not go unnoticed by Lavender who was sure to bring it up later.

Sweet Pea wouldn’t look at her. He was carrying Daisy, who at nine months looked exactly like him. Lavender wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to stand the sight. Her chest was so heavy that she was worried that she’d sink when she got into the water. If she got into the water.

Lily gave her a strange look. “Are those Fangs’?” She asked, nodding her head towards the trunks Lav was wearing. It wasn’t mean spirited, rather just honest curiosity.

“Yea. My bikini is too small so I asked to borrow his shorts.” Lavender said, her tone even and not bearing any ill will. The atmosphere surrounding them was completely uncomfortable and Lav had no idea what to say.

“Jug, can I talk to her alone for a minute?” Lily asked, her voice gentle and there was a small smile on  her face. Jughead nodded and stood, patting Lav on the back briefly before walking closer to the shoreline.

Sweet Pea glanced at the two of them, wanting to listen to whatever Lily had to say but also knowing she’d probably yell at him if he did. He begrudgingly moved towards the water with his very excited little girl.

Lily waited until both boys were out of earshot. She turned and looked at Lavender who was toeing the dirt with the tip of her shoe. “Thank you.” Lily said, her voice genuine. “You didn’t have to break up with him.”

Lavender couldn’t help the hurt sigh that left her, “Yes I did. He made a promise and I wanted him to keep it.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to because I’m not taking him back.” Lily said. She wasn't hostile but there was anger hidden somewhere in her tone. Lavender mistook it to be directed towards her when it was truthfully towards Sweet Pea. “He cheated on me. And to be honest, I can’t be sure that he won’t do it again.”

“You left him.” Lavender said back, jumping to his defense. “What did you expect?”

Lily’s gaze hardened. “I expected some common decency from the man who told me he loved me. What I didn’t expect is for him to stick his dick in someone else just because things between us got hard. All he had to do was talk to me. He could have broken it off first before pursuing other people.”

Lavender was sitting rigidly on the log, daring to look up at Lily. Her hazel eyes encapturing a mixture of rage and pain. But Lily wasn’t done. “I’m sorry for what the Ghoulies did to you, I am. But he can’t fix you. And it’s not fair to put that responsibility on him either. He needs to be a father to Daisy right now. That’s what’s important.”

She was speechless, unable to come up with anything to say in return. While Lily had a valid point, it hurt tremendously to hear it. Lavender stood and Lily backed up to give her space. “This was a mistake.” She said, obviously talking about coming to the quarry. She took a few steps before stopping and turning back towards Lily. “And for the record. You don’t know a single thing about me. So maybe you should stop assuming the type of relationship I had with Sweet Pea. That’s between us. Not you.”

She turned back, grabbing Fang’s keys from his pile of things and leaving. The only one to notice her departure was Sweet Pea, who failed to mask the pained expression on his face at the sight of her go.

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[justzara]

is that [zendaya]? no, that’s just [zaranyika “zara” gunda]. [she/they] is/are [twenty two] years old and is/are a [part time student, odd job-er, & aspiring podcaster]. rumor has it they’ve been in town for [14 years]. on a good day, they’re [introspective & inquisitive]. but watch out! they can also be [detached & controlling]. [summer depression by girl in red] plays in my head whenever i think of them. can’t wait to see them around springhill! 

[rae, 22, est, she/they]

tw: drugs, emotional abuse, lgbtq issues, homophobia

about zara

As much as Zara likes to put on a brave face, inside, she’s hurting. Her mom is a junkie and left her and her dad when she was 8, and her dad hasn’t been the same since. He’s super controlling and can be emotionally abusive towards her.

Zara has a pretty logical mind, despite her emotions having such a tight grip on her, and she likes to know how things will end before she puts her all into it. She’s scared of the unknown. After her mom left, her dad sorta gave up on all the childhood memories and duties, other than being strict with her and forcing her to only focus on school. The only extracurriculars he allowed her to do were student government and debate club. And funnily enough, she ended up really loving them in the end, which is why she is studying Business Management in college - at Springhill’s community college. 

Due to her missing out on the childhood aspects of her past, Zara taught herself how to ride a bike. She learned to forge her father’s name for detention slips and tardy notes. She accepted to not expect her father to show up to any of her basketball games. Zara had learned, at a young age, to not get her hopes up because that only led to disappointment. The only person she could truly trust was herself.

When she was 15 years old, Zara had first learned the word “non-binary” and took comfort in the idea of not having to choose between identifying herself as solely male or female. Zara uses both she/her and they/them pronouns, and she appreciates when her friends ask her which pronouns she’d like to use that day. Lately and in general, she tends to use she/her, as she’s comfortable with presenting her feminine side in that way and masculine & non-binary sides via the clothes she wears. As for her sexuality, she’s always known, subconsciously, that she has drifted more towards liking girls than boys, but she’s open to all kinds of love, as well.

As far as her working life goes, she likes to be self-sufficient and does odd jobs around town (she’s taught herself a lot of tricks n hobbies n stuff in general lol bc she’d often have to spend a lot of time at home, following her dad’s orders). She’s good with cars (she’s hoping to buy and refurbish an RV so she can travel more - inspo), tutoring, babysitting (she prefers ages 5 and up), pet sitting, cleaning/organizing (when it’s not her own room lol), some technological stuff, etc etc. And she’s still learning more so she can work more!

TW: drugs!!!! (Xanax, Adderall, brief mention of heroin, marijuana)

Zara, unfortunately, has always second-guessed herself. Being a product of a dead-beat mother and insanely strict father may have something to do with that. She had always toyed with the idea of trying drugs, as she wanted to feel closer to her mother and figure out why she chose them over her family. Zara’s first experimentation with any kind of drug was Xanx, which she bought from the weird drug dealer in her freshman orientation class in college. Her second drug of choice was Adderall, to help her get through her first finals week. Things kept escalating from there. Her cut-off point, however, was heroin. She promised herself that she’d never shoot up; she liked being high and dulling her feelings...but she didn’t want to die, persay, and heroin seemed like a death sentence to her. Also, the few times that she’s smoked pot, she’s gotten paranoid, so she tends to stay away from that as well.

wanted connections

i think imma make a separate page on her blog specifically for wc’s - sooooo stay tuned!!

ooc / final notes

omg if you’ve read this far, THANK U SM!!! we’re basically friends bc ur the real MVP :’) pls pls plsssss message me if you’d like to plot w my bb!! 

fun fact: zara is the love child of MJ (spiderman), Rue (euphoria), and myself (esp LGBTQIA+ related, as I’m figuring that out, too, like her!!) if you ever would like to talk to someone (a new friend :D aka me lol) about LGBTQIA+ stuff, mental health stuff & staying positive during these #rough times, or gush about our love of zendaya, sabrina carpenter, harry potter series, etc etc -- then pls message me!!! we don’t have to talk solely about the rp/our charries (although i’d be 100000% okay w that uwu) bc i LOVE making new friends :D and some of my bffs are writing buddies i’ve met online! yayyayayyy

okayyyy rambling done !! ttyl hopefully :D

love always, rae xx

UPDATE 7/13/20 

xyz

[inquisitorhotpants]

okay let’s just get this out of the way.

i didn’t like it.

If you liked it, I am honestly jealous of you! I wish I did. But I am really uninterested in any attempts to convince me to like it.

TROS review, with spoilers, below the cut

So I walked out of the theater very “meh” on it. Almost everyone else in my friend circle seemed like they loved it, so I ruminated on it for a couple days and came to a conclusion.

I’m not meh. 

I really, really don’t like that movie. I will likely never turn it on of my own volition.

These are not in any particular order, just as they come to me.

The pacing is absolute shit. 

JJ’s “Lost” buddies got more lines and screentime than Rose, an established character they promised was getting a bigger more impressive role in TROS. 

Everything important Rose did got cut. That lightspeed hopping Poe was doing? Rose worked it out. But I guess we didn’t need to know that.

There are more effective ways to communicate in a movie than having Poe stand around reciting exposition about things he shouldn’t know about, but clearly JJ Abrams is uninterested in any of them

So many unearned emotional moments that mean nothing to the characters but JJ slaps in there to mash the dopamine button because HEY REMEMBER THIS YOU GUISE

So just to be clear, Leia can fucking FLY THROUGH THE VACUUM OF SPACE but just mentally communicating with her shitty kid kills her, sure jan

Rey would have just fucking killed Palpatine if he’d just shut the fuck up but no

Someone banged Sheev Palpatine.

Who also managed to somehow survive the second death star FUCKING EXPLODING.

You had the chance to show a fucking sith cult and went with “have Poe recite exposition about a sith cult”

The universe shows up for Lando, but not Leia??? 

Do not get me wrong, i adore Lando! But I really feel like even Lando and Chewie would have been like, “what the fuck??” about this?

JJ Abrams is a fucking shit writer

Pretending everything in TLJ doesn’t exist - except for some halfassed R*ylo, apparently - is shitty

Rey felt grossly OOC this whole fucking movie.

SHE ABANDONED FINN ON THE GODDAMN DEATH STAR

In theory, the Palpatine thing could have been good in the right hands; JJ Abrams was not the right hands.

All it took for Kyle Ron to stop being a space fascist was thinking about his dad telling him to be nice? THAT’S IT? Well hell, why are we punching Richard Spencer when we can just ask his dad to tell him to be a good boy??

Why the hell did we bury the lightsabers on Tatooine? All Luke ever wanted was to get away from there. It meant nothing to Leia. It meant nothing to Rey. It was literally only there so that viewers could go OMG I LOVE ANH and get teary eyed

So after that frankly excellent acting where Rey tells Kyle Ron to leave her the fuck alone, we get heart eyes and “Ben!” and a fucking kiss? 

When she doesn’t even know who the fuck Ben Solo even is??

Neither do we because he has no fucking lines??

Finn is the glue that holds this fucking trio together and he’s reduced in half the movie to running after Rey. Gross.

We seriously took the member of the trio with the most established backstory and most filled in timeline in canon, played by a Latino actor ... and made him a former drug dealer. really? not a single person went “hmm maybe this looks bad”?

Fic writers will do hours of research so they don’t get something wrong in a PWP smutfic, and you can’t research Poe’s backstory for four seconds?

please enjoy your three minutes in each set piece, keep all hands and arms inside the screaming traincar at all times, and ... nowwww we’re going to slowwwww dowwwwwwwn so Rey and Kyle can Force Skype for no apparent reason

there are no actual stakes

“Chewie died!” just kidding

“threepio is gone!” just kidding

“we don’t have a fleet!” just kidding

“kylo ren, head fascist, is dead!” just kidding

“Final Order” is dumb as fuck

so much finnrey baiting

this covers the part about unearned emotional moments much better than i ever could 

Good thing Vader eliminated that galactic menace, amirite? oh wait

“closes the entire saga” hey jj you know there are NINE movies in the saga, right? cause there sure wasn’t fuckall about the prequels in there.

this “trilogy” doesn’t feel like one. at all. 

it’s so checkboxy. “they want r*ylo, check! no r*ylo, check! use that leia footage - shit we’re out, give her the weakest death imaginable. twin suns! palpatine! let hayden say a couple words so the prequels fans shut the fuck up! ‘everyone’ complained about rose, cut her out! cameos out the ass!”

The Knights of Ren were boring af.

rey gets no character growth

Are we just gonna make all the black folks in the movies related? Lando & Jannah already are, so do we get a short in a couple months where we find out Finn is his son and they’re all related to Mace Windu? 

It just felt very “i didn’t like your movie so i’m going to make 2 and 3 in one smashed together mediocre movie”.

I just cannot get past shit writing and shit pacing and a hack job at “homage”

Now i’m stuck looking at a hundred hot takes on twitter about how “this is ben solo’s trilogy! he’s the real hero! he’s the poor abused boy and no one else has ever had it worse in the entire star wars sagaaaaaaaaaaaa and how dare rey get everything while he was abused and neglected and had NOTHING” thanks jj

Y’all I love this cast and they deserved so much better than what they got from this trilogy.

I suppose there were a couple of things I liked.

the music was phenomenal, as always. Palpatine’s theme done in the style of Rey’s theme was great. 

space horses!

FINN FINN FINN FINN FINN

FORCE SENSITIVE FINN

the bickering scene. I got my hopes up after that. They were quickly disappointed as Rey quickly went off into OOC-land

Dark Rey and that little snarl at the end

I thought the new force powers were cool af. It’s about time we do something with the Force beyond jumpy jumps, zoomies, and the jedi mind trick

I’ve only known D-0 for 4 days but if anything happened to him ... you know the rest.

i actually enjoy the theme of “you are not your bloodline” but it was done so much better by Claudia Gray.

Anytime the trio was together was good.

As much as I am super “eh” on Kyle Ron as a character, I appreciate Adam Driver as an actor, and the scene where Rey passes him the lightsaber and he does that little shrug with the smirk, that was good. I liked that quite a bit. 

The problem is that cool setpieces do not a good movie make.

I started The Witcher the day after I went to the movie, purely to stop thinking about this shitshow of a movie, and that show is great. xD

[govthookercoulson]

If you hate jarley sm, why do you write fanfics in which they live in an open and loving relationship? Are you writing these characters ooc on purpose? You also mentioned in one of the previous asks that he never hit her, but that's not true because there are a lot of examples in the mainstream comics where he DOES hits her, kicks her in the face, fires a gun at her etc. You can write whatever you like in your fics, ofc. I just want to know what you really think about this relationship?

Okay so time out.

The fanfics.

That are explicitly a sexual relationship beginning between the Joker and Batman.

Are out of character?

*jiggles ear* I’m going to need you to repeat yourself for me.

While we’re at it: I’m reasonably certain Tony Stark’s never fucked Loki in canon. Phil and Clint have never had an intimate relationship. And everyone I just listed IS FUCKING DEAD. Except Clint, I guess.

And while I’m at it. Phil Coulson has never fronted a metal band. Or owned a porn studio. Or been a super soldier and known the Kingsmen. BUT I’VE DONE THAT TOO.

*snaps timeline and canon over my knee and feeds it into a woodchipper while looking directly at you*

As for Jarley.

I honestly don’t remember talking much about Jarley on here. Have I ever? I don’t even know. Time isn’t real, my memory is first and foremost a colander.

If I hate anything about Joker/Harley it’s how people hold that relationship up and worship it. It’s dangerous, abusive, toxic, their relationship is every fucking red flag in the book. It’s bad, it’s beyond bad and there’s this thing where people look at them and go OMIGAWD LIFE GOALS and like. No.

Gomez and Mortica are life goals. If you’re a romantic. I guess.

I’m not a romantic but that’s not here or there.

Let’s be honest, Harley was given a raw deal and about the only saving grace is animated Harley is hell on wheels and is one of the people who can very effectively take the Joker out (and has).

But that isn’t what my fic is about.

Joker’s not real. In most of his depictions he’s about as one dimensional as possible, a neon monster whose ultimate role is to be a foil against cthonic Batman.

I didn’t want that Joker, and I didn’t write that Joker.

Do you bitch at people who write TellTale’s Joker? That sweet boy?

Because TellTale’s Joker is a sweet sweet boy and if you play the game right, the only reason he goes bad is the game forces your hand and doesn’t give you a real chance to redeem him. Which is shit. Which even TellTale people has admitted is shit, because the subtext that that good sweet boy is dating Bruce isn’t even fucking subtext. It’s just text.

My Joker is a terrible person. He’s toxic and a killer and a drug dealer and he’ll point weapons at the public to buy himself time. He’s possessive and demented and wrong and his ability to care for people is directly linked to how much they help his state of mind.

Harley knows that. 

Batman knows that.

Joker’s moderately self aware.

They’re all insane. The difference is this Joker is knowable. This Joker you might believe Harley would love. This Joker knows business. This Batman understands nuance. This Batman knows he stands in the grey area.

It’s not a fic series about good people. It’s a fic series about terrible people making terrible decisions, but you know what? I didn’t want to write angst. I wanted to write a stupid lighthearted series about Bats and Mr J. And I did for two fics then my muse kicked into hyperdrive and I wrote 13K about killing Amanda Waller because holy hell but did that bitch need killing.

Retribution for Midway City. For the Suicide Squad. For El Diablo. Delivered by a Joker dressed all in black.

Black sends a message in Gotham.

No offense but you don’t come to a marvel writer asking for DC to be in character. Pretty sure my tags spelled it out super fuckin clear here.

You want a gorgeous depiction of the true rot of Harley and Joker? Look up Stjepan Sejic’s comic Harleen.

You want dumb fun and humor of an apparently unique brand if you believe my comments? You come to me.

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

hey, shannen! regarding your last post about skins (effy/cook): it's really interesting to hear other opinions. Personally, I liked that that specific pair didn't end up together; I always thought their relationship was too dysfunctional and damaging to make a good fit! But I have to admit, I didn't watch all of the fire/ice etc episodes and maybe it's been too long to remember s3/s4 correctly haha;) just love to hear your take on it if you find some time! best wishes :)

Hey there, anon!

I couldn’t have recieved this ask at a better time, because I literally just finished re-watching seasons 3 and 4 of Skins yesterday! 

Thanks for sending this ask, I always love to discuss these topics and I’ve never really had the opportunity to discuss Cook and Effy in-depth before. Strap yourself in, because this is pretty lengthy, but hopefully you’ll enjoy reading my take on it. :)

Cook and Effy are a very complicated ship for me, because part of me thinks they’re very toxic and that practically they could never work as a couple. However, the other part of me thinks that they were only portrayed that way on the surface, and that in actuality, there is no basis for thinking that. Cook and Effy absolutely could’ve worked together if the show had given them that opportunity.

Personally, I don’t think it was their relationship that was dysfunctional or damaging, but Cook and Effy themselves. As people, Cook and Effy were both deeply damaged people by the time they met in season 3. Having known Effy from seasons 1 and 2, we know that she suffered from some form of Selective Mutism and that she generally had a lot of emotional difficulties in regards to opening up to and connecting to others. Nothing describes that as well as her line in season 2 when she said, “Sometimes I think I was born backwards, you know, came out my mum the wrong way. I hear words go past me backwards. The people I should love I hate, and the people I hate–” In seasons 1 and 2 Effy was around 14-15 years old and she was already demonstrating reckless and self-destructive behaviours - regularly taking drugs, having sex with people she barely knew and generally entering into dangerous situations (e.g. Spencer in 1x08) with no regard for her safety or well-being. Also, at the end of season 1, she suffered the trauma of seeing Tony get hit by the bus, which we know hugely impacted her because she made reference to it in season 4.

As for Cook, although we never physically get to see his past in the same way we do with Effy, we know enough to know that his childhood was far from happy and that it deeply affected him. His mother was a neglectful and unstable alcoholic who was known for having sex with men for money and his father abandoned him when he was a young child (we also know he was a complete asshole from his appearance in the season 3 finale). He had an uncle, who was a bigoted drug dealer who not only supplied him with drugs but encouraged him to partake in it. Everything we know about Cook’s family suggests that he was neglected and it’s very likely that he raised himself for the most part, which explains why emotionally he was closed off, afraid to connect to others and incapable of maintaining healthy relationships (this was particularly clear with his friendships with Freddie and JJ).

So, to summarise, Cook and Effy are two people that both struggled (for different reasons) with emotionally connecting to people and that were terrified of opening themselves up to love because they didn’t want to get hurt. Their relationship for the majority of season 3 (up until 3x08) was a manifestation of that inability to forge connections and/or fear of it. It was a shallow relationship built almost exclusively on sex, and although some may perceive it as unhealthy, it wasn’t. It was a mutual understanding between two people whose reasons for being together were the same - they were using each other.

For Effy, her sexual relationship with Cook was all about avoiding and repressing her feelings for Freddie. We know this because Effy said in 4x05 that she knew from the very first time she saw Freddie he was the closest she would ever get to being close and in 3x07 Cook revealed whilst under the influence of “truth” pills that Effy was having sex with him because she couldn’t stand the fact that she loved Freddie.

With Cook, his reasons for entering into a sexual relationship with Effy were simply because he was attracted to her (which we know from the first moment he saw her) and that was what Cook did and was used to doing - he had casual sex with lots of girls. Cook’s perception of sex was a clear indicator of the complex emotional issues he had. His obsession with having sex was a result of him desperate craving intimacy whilst simultaneously being afraid of it. He had sex to attempt to have that intimacy with another person, but then labelled it as casual and meaningless to invalidate that intimacy and close himself off to it.

When looking at it like this, it might seem ridiculous that I then claim that their relationship wasn’t damaging, because it certainly wasn’t what constitutes a healthy relationship, but by the same token, it wasn’t bad either. From the first time they had sex, there was a mutual understanding between Cook and Effy that their relationship was just no-strings attached sex. There was no manipulation or coercion, it was all consensual and mutual. As their relationship continued, it became complicated because feelings got involved and both of them were hurt by each other, but it was the kind of hurt all relationships experience and nothing particularly awful. In season 3, Effy was hurt when she found out Cook was sleeping with Pandora but she knew that she and Cook weren’t exclusive and that they could both sleep with whoever they wanted. Effy’s reaction to that was much more about Pandora’s betrayal, as her best friend, than Cook’s. And Cook was hurt continuously by Effy’s feelings for Freddie and her relationship with him. Besides that, there was nothing that happened between Cook and Effy that constitutes damaging. In fact, I’d argue that Effy’s relationship with Freddie was much more damaging to her than her relationship with Cook was. What I’m trying to say is that Cook and Effy’s relationship was exactly what a friends-with-benefits or casual-sex-buddy relationship looks like, and therefore not dysfunctional. Even when their relationship developed beyond the casual type due to Cook falling in love with Effy, it was still what any non-reciprocated relationship is. Cook was heartbroken, he attempted to express his love for her on occasions and she made it clear that she didn’t return his feelings in a respectful but firm way (excluding 4x07 when she rudely told him to piss off after he told her he loved her, which always really bugged me because it felt so OOC).

Regarding your comment about Cook and Effy not being a great fit, I’ve actually always felt the opposite. Although they’re very similar (x) and the popular saying is that opposites attract, I think Cook and Effy worked together really well. I don’t think we got to see just how well they could’ve worked, because they were never truly together and most of their relationship was about the triangle with Freddie/Effy. Effy said in 4x07 that Cook was never good for her, but I never understood that because there’s absolutely nothing to support that claim. If you look close enough, you can see how good they were together. The two of them actually spent a lot of time together, although we never see it on-screen, it’s spoken about or hinted at. For example, in 3x08 Cook turned up at Effy’s house and was on a first name basis with her mom and had brought groceries to cook for her, suggesting he spent a lot of time at her house (and not always in her bedroom since he knows her mom) and also that they did do other things other than just have sex. Cook also knew that Effy’s favourite film was E.T. which means they either watched it together or Effy told him. At the end of season 3 they spent a significant amount of time (we can assume weeks, maybe even months) on the run together, only in the company of each other. My point is, they clearly got on well and knew each other too. Whenever Cook and Effy had scenes that weren’t the melodramatic angsty type that Skins is well known for, they were light and natural together (x). Throughout the whole of the season 3 finale (which is a very Ceffy centric episode), they worked. If you take the Freddie/love triangle drama out of the equation, they were affectionate towards each other, they had fun, Effy was supportive and protective over Cook when it came to his dad and Cook was making plans for his future with Effy (to get a job and a boat). Putting aside their individual issues (which I mentioned above), when Cook and Effy were together they were good together. Even if they were just having sex, that was okay, because it was what they both wanted. They knew how to have fun and be in a moment together, and that was what drew them together from the beginning, because they could lose themselves in a moment and forget about everything else. Also, for all their similarities, Cook didn’t have the same depressive tendencies as Effy and was able to keep her on an even keel more so than anybody else (this is particularly obvious in comparison to Freddie, who I felt fed Effy’s depression). That’s why I find it so strange that there’s this perception that Cook was wrong or bad for her, because firstly, Cook never actually did anything to warrant him being “bad” for her. He drank too much, did drugs too much, partied too much but so did Effy, so did Freddie, so did every character on the show (excluding JJ). Cook never did anything to push Effy to a dark place, he never did anything to hurt her or harm her in anyway. Everything they did together was what Effy was doing before she met Cook and what she did with everybody else. In fact, I sincerely believe that Cook was capable of helping Effy and reaching her emotionally more than anybody else. In 4x07 when Effy was in a fragile mental state, she trusted Cook (despite not knowing him because of some hypnosis bullshit her psychopathic therapist did to her) and later in on the episode Cook was the one that brought her back.

As for Cook and Effy ending up together, I believe 100% that they should’ve been together, even if they hadn’t stayed together. If I had been in charge of the show, I would’ve completely scrapped the Freddie/Effy relationship and pursued a Cook/Effy romance from the beginning. From my perspective, it made complete sense that these two damaged people that were unable to emotionally connect would strike up a causal sexual relationship and eventually come to fall in love. Obviously, it wouldn’t have been a straightforward road for them or a particularly happy relationship, but it would’ve been very interesting to watch their ups and downs. Cook loved Effy completely, she was the first and only girl he had ever loved, and that was significant for his character and to have her return that love would’ve led to development for both of them. Skins as a show is all about young love and it’s realistic in its portrayal of that. All of the Skins relationships have their problems and none of them last (because the reality is a lot of young relationships don’t last as their lives go in different directions), so I couldn’t see Cook and Effy’s relationship lasting and them staying together, even if they had been together in seasons 3 and 4. Season 7, however, is a completely different story.

I’m a huge Skins fan and have been since I was a young teenager, but I strongly dislike season 7 and the choices that were made. In my opinion, to bring Effy and Cook back for the final season and not have them interact was criminal. Regardless of Effy’s romantic relationship with Freddie, Effy and Cook were strongly connected and fans would have loved to have seen them reunite. Since you didn’t watch season 7, you won’t be aware of how Cook and Effy developed, so I’ll briefly summarise. In season 7, Cook and Effy had both hugely mellowed in comparison to how they were in seasons 3 and 4, whilst keeping their core personalities. In season 7, Cook and Effy as a couple would’ve just worked. It was a chance to explore their unfulfilled potential and finally make the most of Kaya and Jack’s chemistry whilst remaining respectful to the Freddie/Effy relationship. If I could’ve written season 7 I would have had Cook be on the run (like he was in Rise) and Effy pursuing him because she’s seeking answers about Freddie’s disappearance. I would’ve had the two reunite and have Cook fall to pieces, because it’s Effy - the only girl he’s ever loved - and she brings to the surface everything he’s been keeping bottled up. But I would have him suppress those emotions and react angrily to her having found him, telling her she was stupid for looking for him and that she should’ve let it go. I’d have Effy respond angrily telling him that she couldn’t let it go and that since he and Freddie have gone everything’s gone to shit. Eventually, Cook would tell her the truth about what happened with Freddie and the therapist, and then in their grief-stricken and heightened emotional state they sleep together. Afterwards, Effy is conflicted because on the one hand she’s still grieving for Freddie but on the other, her feelings for Cook are resurfacing and the fact that Cook loves Freddie and is grieving him too means that they’re connected in a unique way. I would then have Cook get angry at Effy (again, because let’s face it, this is Cook lol), tell her to leave and go back to her life and forget about him like she should’ve done the first time, that he deserves to be punished and on the run for the rest of his life for what he did. Then Effy defends his actions saying Freddie’s death was her fault, she was the one that brought the doctor into their life and when Cook killed him he was only defending himself. I would’ve had Effy choose to stay with Cook and live with him on the run because she feels she has nothing at home to go back for. At that point, they wouldn’t be together, but the implication would clearly be there. It wouldn’t be a happy ending and it would be open ended, but I think it would’ve worked perfectly. Not only would it have provided the fans (and Cook and Effy) with closure for Freddie’s death, but would’ve explored that potential of Cook and Effy and ended on a semi-positive note.

One final thing I wanted to talk about, is that despite the fact that I think Cook and Effy were a good fit and definitely weren’t dysfunctional, shipping Cook and Effy isn’t about happy endings or them being ‘good’ for each other or even ending up together. The appeal of the ship (for me, at least) is the messiness and realness of it. When two people have such complex and unresolved issues as Cook and Effy, it’s impossible to be in a healthy, happy, functioning relationship, because they’re not those things themselves. However, Cook and Effy show what love can be when it’s not neat or simple or easily defined. They also show that you can love another person with your whole heart despite feeling broken inside. Plus, Cook and Effy had such a palpable chemistry, history and connection that it’s difficult for me not to ship them and root for them to be together, even if only temporarily.

[maxsevenbetterplaylist]

somewhere only we know – jake peralta x reader;

author’s note: still the cheesiest woman alive. no surprises here. i like this one better though jake’s slightly ooc and the end kiiind of sucks. you’ll see what i mean. i also would like to say most of the songs here are songs i quite like. hope y’all like it too;

pairing: jake peralta x reader;

request: all me, but i feel like i should tell you it’s a “your soulmate can listen whatever song you’re listening to in their head” soulmate au;

word count: 2316 (back at it with decent sized one shots yes);

TW: uh i think there swearing. a lil alcohol. that’s it;

You grunted against your pillow when, for the third time that night, Lionel Richie's voice resounded loud and clear into your head. The only thing you actually wanted to be doing all night long was sleeping, for you had a long day coming up on the next morning, but your soulmate didn't seem to know or care about that. It was actually quite weird. By now, you were used to the violent swings on his music taste – 90s hip-hop in one minute, 80s disco in the other, you just didn't get it at all –, but listening to stuff at three in the morning? No, this wasn't like them. 

I mean, yes, they had this weird thing going on. Usually, they'd only blast stuff out loud during the day, but on the most random timings. Lunch? Usually pretty silent. But three thirty-six in the afternoon on a a Tuesday, when they should be working and you were in the middle of an important meeting? Funky Cold Medina would come at full volume. Nights were thankfully quiet, yes, but at times he seemed to randomly pull an all nighter and listen to music in a pretty psychotic pattern. As you discovered after some research, they also enjoyed very much Die Hard's soundtrack.  None of your friends' soulmates were weird like this, and, at this point, you'd narrowed it down to two possibilities – either their personality (which had to be very creepy) or their work (maybe he was something like your friend Amy, from the 99th, a night shift detective) was to blame, and you were hopeful that someday you'd figure out which. 

When All Night Long came on again, you decided it maybe was time to fight back with some of your music. You rolled through your sheets, sighing audibly, and picked up your phone, trying to think of the calmest thing you could. Snap, that was it. Quickly opening Spotify and your sleep playlist, you hit play on Of Monsters And Men's Love Love Love, turning the volume up so your soulmate could hear it through Lionel's voice. After a while, the song stopped for a good half an hour, and, when it was put back on, it was immediately cut off. You were finally, finally at peace, but you somewhat knew they weren't. Before finally going to bed (and actually sleeping, thankful for the silence), you picked one last song: The Moon Song, by Karen O. 

Jake had been having quite a night. He was sure thankful for finally coming back to New York after all the time in Florida, not to mention being reinstated to NYPD and his precinct; but despite saying that it was nothing, being on the night shift was starting to get to him, and Boyle wasn’t helping too much (although that wasn’t his fault, and he knew it). That said, when he asked his friend repeatedly to blast the Night Boys newest anthem while heading from one precinct to another, he didn’t exactly pause to think about the fact that his soulmate would probably be trying to sleep while he was working.

He was kind of surprised when calm folk music started playing inside his head, why were they up until now and listening to music? And, although it wasn’t Jake’s kind of music, it was good, he had to admit. Better if you were trying to sleep, yes, but still good. Oh, shit, they’re trying to sleep. He realized it was probably a big inconvenience for his soulmate that he was listening to Lionel Richie at 4 in the morning, but, well, what could he do? It was the job. And it wasn’t as if his soulmate never listened to stuff when he needed to focus – he recalled very well the first time his soulmate had listened to Funky Cold Medina. He was chasing after a drug dealer, and, when he finally caught him, instead of reciting the Miranda Rights, he asked the guy why he was so fly, and, very confused, the suspect answered “Funky Cold Medina?”

Still, the next time Charles put the song on, Jake told him to cut it. He told himself it was because everything else was garbage that night, but deep down he also didn’t want his soulmate to hate him for working the night shift. In response, he heard a quiet ukulele song playing inside his head. He knew that one from the movie Her! He took the song as a thank you, smiling slightly as the melody finished and it all became silent again.

You hated being stood up on, but it seemed to have happened again. There you were, at Shaw’s Bar, Brooklyn, waiting for your so-called date, who should have showed up one hour ago except they didn’t. You rolled your eyes and sighed. You weren’t asking for a knight on a shining armor or even your soulmate, you just wanted a decent night and maybe a fling with whoever your friend had set you up with this time. But no, not even that you’d get.

You tapped your feet to the rhythm of Ice Ice Baby, which was playing on Shaw’s speakers. It was usually the kind of thing your soulmate liked listening to. You smiled a little thinking about how they’d probably be hearing it inside their head right now, but thinking of it made your mood even worse. Leaning over the counter, you waved at Hank. The man turned to you, a kind smile on his face. “Hi, Y/N! You look great. Anything special?”

“My friend set me up on a date, but they stood me up.” You told him, and he frowned. “Yeah, it’s no biggie. Same as always, Hank.”

“Beer it is.” He told you, turning around to grab a bottle and open it. You flashed a smile at him, taking it.

“Thanks, Hank.”

“Always a pleasure, Y/N.”

You looked around the familiar bar, sighing. You’d lived in Brooklyn for most of your adulthood, and had to admit there was no place like Shaw’s. It was always a very alive place, with a good ambience and nice people. Your favorite days to be there were the Fridays when the 99th precinct’s squad hanged out there after work hours. It had always been cool to observe them, but, for a while now, you actually started talking to them and they liked it when you stuck around. Most people found their cop stories too weird or bloody, but there was nothing better for you than listening to the detectives talk about their work with little interventions that mostly concerned yogurt or Die Hard. Even when they weren’t there, however, it was like home to you. Plus, Hank knew you by now, and you got some pretty cool discounts for that.

You knew your soulmate was up to something when, as Vanilla Ice’s voice faded out, a song you knew very well came on – Somewhere Only We Know, Keane’s version of it. You made a face at nothing. That was so not your soulmate’s kind of thing. They had done this before, yes, but always to prank you just when it was getting good or to draw your attention – and, right now, they had it. When the song started playing again, for no apparent reason, you blinked twice. What the heck were they doing?

You hadn’t noticed someone sitting right across from you, so you jumped slightly when Amy Santiago’s voice pulled you from your daydream. “Hey, Y/N! You’re here again and – wait, is there anything wrong? Why’re you all dressed up?”

You blinked at her, trying to find  your way around words. “Uh… Date. Got stood up.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The detective said, reaching across the table to put her hand on yours. “But you know what, it’s probably – ”

“No, it’s no big deal.” You cut her off, and Amy frowned at you. You smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. It’s just… My soulmate’s been messing with me.”

“Oh, really?” She asked, eyes plugged on your face but an uncomfortable smile on her lips. As if she knew something you didn’t. “What are they up to?”

“Um, Ice Ice Baby was playing right before you came in, right?”

“Oh, no, the squad and I came in as it was fading out.” Amy told you, sounding more surprised by the second.

“Right.” You nodded dismissively. “And they really like that kind of music. I think that when they realized I was listening to it, they wanted to do something back for me, so they started playing a song I like but they never did. I thought they were gonna prank me or something and ruin it completely, but they didn’t. They’re actually still playing it.”

Amy seemed to be staring and someone behind you, but, when you did, you only saw the squad. She turned back to you with a smile. “Okay, okay, cool.”

“So… You’re the detective. Any theories?” You asked her playfully, but Amy swallowed hard.

“Maybe,” Amy started, and you could see her struggle. “Maybe y-you – ”

“Is there anything you wanna tell me, Ames?” You asked her, still smiling, and she sighed. Before saying anything, she looked around, downed her shot and leaned over the table.

“Look, I think I know who your soulmate is.” She secreted and your jaw dropped. “But calm down.”

“How?!” You blurted.

“On our way here,” she said rather carefully, “someone in the squad could hear Ice Ice Baby inside their head. Then, when we got here and heard it playing in the exact same timing, they thought their soulmate might be in here and decided to try and play a certain song, because they knew their soulmate liked it, to see if they could find out who that person is.”

You blinked. Then again, and again. Your soulmate was a cop? You weren’t sure of what to say. “Who is it, Amy?”

She pursed her lips. “I probably shouldn’t tell you.” Amy confessed, and you sighed. She was probably right – you couldn’t risk any coincidences –, but that was a really big bummer. “I know, I know, it sucks. But, uh, I do have an idea.”

Your eyes lit up. “Tell me. Now.”

“Okay, but you have to relax.”

“AMY!”

“A-ah I’m sorry!” She said, sitting up straight defensively. “Th-they told me they had one version of that song on! Why don’t you put the other and see if they realize it?”

“That’s actually a really good idea.” You told her, sitting straight again after the little threat. You smiled at the woman. “Thanks, Ames.”

She straightened her collar, trying to look normal again. “My pleasure to help, Y/N.”

You picked up your phone and earphones from your purse, feeling Amy looking at you and then at someone behind you. You took a deep breath as the song in your head stopped for the 3rd time, hitting play on the same moment. This time, along with the guitar and drums from the original version, there was a soft piano, from Lily Allen’s last cover of it. You didn’t even have the time to look around before someone else barged into your table.

“Amy, you’re not gonna believe this!” You look up to see detective Jake Peralta, one of Amy’s friends from the squad, now sitting by her side, showing her his phone excitedly. He had a huge smile on his dork-y face, and a single earphone on his left ear. “My soulmate played the other version! My plan worked! Now I just need to find someone who’s using earphones and – oh, hi, Y/N, I didn’t see you there. Sorry, I’m just kind of pumped about a soulmate thing.”

You blinked at him. Then blinked again. Was the universe kidding you? A detective? A childish, eccentric, fun and extremely hot detective? Jake didn’t quite understand what was going on – he wasn’t exactly the most observant person you knew. Amy smiled rather knowingly now, picking up her empty cup as she got up from her seat. “Hey, Y/N, why don’t you show Jake what you’re listening to?”

Shaking slightly, you turned your phone’s screen to him. His confused frown slowly turned to a gentle smile. He looked up at you, checking your earphone before taking his own off. He shoved his phone inside his pocket, along with the white strings, and sat down, looking at you. “Soo… I guess this is a thing?” He said, trying to break the ice, and you blinked once more before ripping your headphone off and slapping his arm. “Ouch! Wrong start here, Y/N!”

“I had to, after you blasted All Night Long through an entire night when I should be sleeping!” You told him but rather playfully. Jake frowned back, trying not to laugh. “But, seriously, Lionel Richie, man?”

“I was working the night shift with Boyle! We needed motivation!” He replied, and you giggled slightly. For a second, neither of you said nothing, then Jake cleaned his throat. “You look great. I mean, yes, you are beautiful, but you’re like… Dressed up.”

You smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I know. I was supposed to be on a date tonight, but I got stood up on.”

“Oh. Sorry for that.” He said, then hit your arm playfully. “But hey, think positive! If you had gone, you might not have met your incredibly handsome soulmate AKA me, so that’s cool, right?”

You looked away from him, blushing slightly. “I guess so.” Another moment of silence went by, and you put your phone away before he cleaned this throat and went,

“Hey, should we get drinks and a booth? I feel like we could use some talking. Maybe I should buy the drinks, as an apology for the Lionel incident?”

You smiled at him, pursing your lips again. “Yeah, sure. And after that, if you have a minute why don’t we go – ”

“Somewhere only we know.”

[bughead-fic-request]

Psycho Killer: Chapter 5 - Molly, Mae or Mary

Summary: Archie Andrews hated when his job took him to high places. Betty Cooper loved when her job took her to posh places. Jughead’s job only took him to dark places. This is a story chronicling the lives of three young hired killers. AU/Majorly OOC, sex, swearing and violence. Jughead x Betty x Archie

Words: 3,714

Warnings: Drug use, swearing, sexual situations, fingering in a public place, kissing.

A/N: I edited this myself so there are probably errors. Here is chapter 1, 2, 3 and 4 also find the story on AO3.

If you aren't on board for the Archie x Betty x Jughead cross pairing you are gonna hate this chapter. You've been warned.

I also altered Jughead's physicality. He's taller now, 6'4 with broader shoulders.

I have to say this is one of my most favorite things I've ever written. I fucking love it.

Archie called his dealer, Clive, just before they left the office around six. When they arrived home a half hour later he was waiting outside their apartment door.

“Your building has terrible security.” Clive drawled in an upper class British accent. He was wearing an impeccably tailored, grey, three piece suit - complete with pocket watch. He rested upon a cane with a silver handle, his face was clean shaven and well manicured; a modern day dandy.

“Do you have it?” Archie asked, fishing his wallet out of his pocket as Jughead and Betty moved past them into the condo.

“Yes,” Clive pulled out a small black velvet bag and dangled it in front of Archie. “That will be 120.”

“I told you 100 and that’s what you’re getting.” Archie thrusted two fifty pound notes at him while snatching the bag from his hand. “Now vanish.” He dismissed his dealer with the hand that wasn’t holding the bag.

Clive rolled his eyes and strolled down the hall. He pushed the button for the elevator with the butt of his cane and turned back to look at Archie. “A few of the boys are getting together at my house tomorrow, would you like to come?” Clive cocked an eyebrow as he seductively licked his lips.

“I told you Clive, I want you for drugs and nothing more.” Archie placed his hand on the door handle.

The sharply dressed man pouted. “I remember a time when you sang a very different tune.”

“Oh, I sing the same tune, just not for you.” Archie winked at him before entering the condo and leaving Clive alone in the hallway.

Archie, Betty and Jughead ordered takeout, drank lots of water and took a nap in preparation for the night ahead of them.

Around ten, Archie woke his lover and friend and the three of them got ready.

“Jug?” Betty said, knocking lightly on his door.

Jughead was still wearing his dark jeans from earlier as he looked at three shirts he had pulled out. None of them looked right for where they were going. “Does it matter what I’m wearing?” He asked Betty, rubbing his bare chest.

Jughead didn’t care what he wore but he knew Betty cared, clothes were kind of her thing. She didn’t wear the clothes she wore to attract men, she wore them because she loved the way she felt in them. They made her feel powerful. She told him other than a person’s face the first thing  someone noticed about another person was their clothes and they were good for manipulation. Wearing the right kind of clothes could make someone do just about anything.

Tonight she was wearing a short black glittery dress that covered her front from her collarbone all the way down to her mid thigh. The sleeves were long and enclosed her arms all the way down to her wrists. The back was cowled and exposed most of the skin on her back. Her hair was braided along the front and gathered into a low chignon. She wore simple black pumps on her feet.

“Actually I have something for you? Do you have a pair of black dress pants?” She asked handing him a black vest before slipping into his closet.

“Yeah,” Jughead said looking at the article of clothing.

“Try it on.” Betty chided from his closet. “It’s not just to look at.”

“Where did you get it?” Jughead asked.

“Wardrobe, it looked about your size.”

Attentäter had a costume department to make sure their agents had the right kind of clothes for any situation they might find themselves in. Betty stole clothes from them constantly.

“Is this gonna be a thing now?” He joked, enjoying the feeling of the finely made garment against his fingers. “When you look at me now do you just see a giant Ken doll?”

She giggled from inside his wardrobe. “Jug, you have all these amazing pieces, why do you never wear them?” She walked out and handed him a white dress shirt.

“I wear clothes so I don’t get arrested when I go outside or to keep warm. I don’t really think much about how I look.” Jughead answered honestly. He had been told enough times in his life how ugly he was, how odd his face looked; how tired his eyes were, how his sneer made him unapproachable, that his height made him look like Frankenstein and his intense gaze was creepy. That only a mother could love his face. He didn’t think clothes would help him much so he didn’t bother.

Betty nodded, “Well get in there and change. I want to see what you look like.” She smiled as Jughead entered his closet, located his black pants and layered the clothing how he thought Betty would want them. He put on some dress shoes and stepped out.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him. “This is what I’m talking about.” She was rubbing her hands together and motioned for him to lower his head. He could smell the hair product on her skin as she ran her hands through his hair.

“Aren’t I going to sweat right through this?” He asked as her hands worked, positioning his hair how she liked it.

“It’s so dark in there no one will notice.” She assured him as she removed her hands from his tousled locks. “Look at yourself.” She motioned towards the mirror.

He turned to see someone who looked ready for the club, at least the club that they went to. “Wow,” he whispered, pleased with the way he looked for the second time that day. His hair was off his face for once and highlighted the strong line of his jaw. The vest hugged his lean waist and made his chest and shoulders look larger, he looked taller somehow. He truly never realized how much he had filled out. How different he looked from the day he was drafted into the army. He looked like a gentleman.

“Okay!” Archie’s voice echoed down the hallway. “I think we should do one now, I’ll call a cab and then if we need it, we’ll do another one when we get to the club.” He came around the corner wearing a black dress shirt with the first three buttons undone, black pants and a brown belt. He was juggling bottles of water in his hand.

He stopped when he saw Jughead. “Jesus, look at you.” Archie handed him a bottle of water and then one to Betty. “If you can’t get someone to fuck you tonight, I might have to.” He laughed handing out the pills.

Jughead’s brow creased in shock at Archie’s comment as he took one of the small capsules from Archie’s hand. Betty did the same and rolled the drug around in her palm.  

“See you on the other side.” Archie winked, popped the pill in his mouth and downed it with his water. He pulled out his phone and walked out of the room.

“I don’t want to dance.” Jughead admitted to Betty.

“Take that and you will. You have the gown, the coach is on its way and that pill is the glass slipper. Lets go to the ball.” She gave him a sly smile before taking her own pill and left the room.

Jughead inhaled deeply and took the drug, chasing it with the entire bottle of water. “Fuck,” he muttered as he wiped his mouth and went to join his friends.

By the time the three of them arrived at the club they were rolling. They approached a small door in a back alley, giggling like school girls.

Archie banged on the door three times, waited for ten-seconds and then banged two more times. A slot opened on the door and two eyes peered out, assessing them. “Password?”

“Benghazi,” Archie said borderline annoyed.

They stood there for a moment while Betty rubbed her hands on Jughead and Archie’s arms. “You both feel amazing.” She sighed as her head rolled back and she bobbed slightly to the faint music she could hear.

The door flew open and the three of them were ushered in quickly.

The second she walked into the club Betty felt like everything was moving in slow motion. The people, the music, the half naked dancers in cages that lined the room. Her senses were heightened and her pupils were blown. Blue and purple neon lights glowed from all over the room making everybody look like the best version of themselves. Archie looked sexy and relaxed while Jughead looked carefree, a rare effortless smile on his face.

She loved the way she felt when she walked into a room full of people. She loved the attention she got, she loved that people were drawn to her. The eyes of every politician, musician, actor, model and trust fund baby who haunted this club were looking at her. In a room of people who stood out in a crowd she stood out in theirs.

People were drawn to risk, to danger, to the unknown.

She didn’t have a real passport or a birth certificate. She celebrated a fake birthday every year. She didn’t use her real name and had multiple aliases. Her name wasn’t in any database and her fingerprints were untraceable. She could kill someone with her bare hands and basked in the fear she could drive into the hearts of men.

She was beautiful, hard, dangerous and lethal; she felt like a vampire.

If she was technically never born, could she die? Was she immortal?

Archie stopped right in the middle of the dance floor and grabbed her waist, pulling her flush against him as he began grinding against her to a song that sounded familiar but Betty couldn't place. She ran her hands through his hair enjoying the sensation of the strands against her fingers.

Jughead was up against her a moment after, running his hands up and down her sides as he moved behind her. She knew the second the drugs started flowing through him he would want to dance. The song changed to something she did know as the whole floor bounced together.

You had to be important to get into this club. You had to know the password and the bouncer had to recognize you. London's elite partied at this club as a way to get their kicks away from prying eyes. The point of the club was to give into pleasure. The seating was designed to make it easy to do drugs, the bathroom stalls were a little wider because they wanted you to have sex in them. The dance floor was small so friction and contact were your only options. The club was the devil on your shoulder begging you to give in.

This wasn’t a place for angels.

They danced for so long they lost track of time. They were lost in the beat of the music vibrating under their feet, wrapped up in the effect of the drug, relishing the feeling of their hands all over each other, their bodies covered in a layer of sweat.

Betty sighed at the feeling of Jughead's hands running up her arms before caressing her neck, his cheek pressed up against the side of her head. Archie’s hands moved up her legs, under her dress and in between her thighs.

She gripped Jughead’s legs as Archie ran his fingers along her most sensitive of areas. She was leaning most of her weight against Jughead when Archie inserted a finger. He revelled in the sensation of her hot wetness as Betty let out a cry.

Jughead felt blood rush to his cheeks as her hands moved up and wrapped around his neck bringing his head down, his chin resting against her shoulder. Archie inserted a second finger, scissoring them inside of her, which led to another whimper from Betty. Her eyes fluttered shut and her face turned towards Jughead’s neck. The feeling of her lips grazing his skin and her hot breath spreading across his flesh resulted in him bucking his hips into Betty’s behind.

Jughead was too high to be shocked at there actions and he gripped Betty’s hips as she came between them. Archie pulled his fingers out of the blonde and brought his digits, dripping with Betty’s arousal to Jughead’s lips. Jughead knew that if he opened his mouth then he was a goner and nothing would ever be the same. He opened his mouth and Archie slipped his thick fingers into his mouth which Jughead sucked with fervour moaning at the sour sweet taste of the woman he had loved for so long. Betty was trembling between them, most of her moans being drowned out by the music as Archie removed his fingers and put his hand on the back of Jughead’s neck and pulled him close. Jughead felt himself jerk back slightly, his rational mind starting to fight his drug addled brain not sure if he wanted this. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go down this road with one of his only friends but he gave in and their lips met.

It had been a long time since Jughead had kissed a man. It had been a long time since Jughead had kissed anyone and the drug heightened the feeling of Archie’s soft lips pushed against his own. Archie's stubble scratched against Jughead’s freshly shaven face and the smell of musk and sweat and Betty's sweet perfume caused him to moan into the redhead’s mouth.

Archie could feel the moan vibrate on his lips.

When Betty went limp dropping her hands from around Jughead's neck, Archie released the bewildered man who immediately took a step back. He stared at Archie with a confused and shocked expression on his face, panting, sucking in the hot, damp, thick air of the club. Betty could barely stand as she clung to her boyfriend. Jughead didn’t know what to do, his social ineptitude kicking in, so he turned and fled to the bar.

All Archie could do was smile as he held his flushed lover in a sea of London’s most privileged. He knew he was going to get his way one way or another and after that it was only a matter of time.

Jughead needed water and air. He had no idea what had just happened because nothing like it had ever happened before. He knew that Archie was interested in men but he never thought his interest would be extended to someone like himself. Then there was Betty. He couldn’t even fathom Betty’s behaviour. She had no problem with PDA and cuddling with Archie in front of him but when it came to actually intimacy and sex, that always happened behind a closed door. Now he had this memory of not of what it looked like when she came but how she tasted. He needed to wash the sweet taste of ginger and lemon out of his mouth so he could begin to forget. He needed to forget or he wouldn’t be able to function.

He looked at the bartender and motioned for water throwing a bill on the bar not even checking to see what denomination it was. He never worried about money, he knew he had more than enough.

He drank the bottle quickly and asked for another. "Having a rough night?" A female voice shouted at him. The music had turned into a mix of mid nineties house music and the dance floor looked like a solid mass, not a single person stood out.  

He turned to see a woman in her early twenties standing beside him. She had a warm brown skin which was mostly bare in the light pink slip of a dress she was wearing. Her hair was in an Afro around her head, her lips were full and stained a berry shade and she wore violet contact lenses making her eyes look electric.

"What?" Jughead shouted over the music as his peripheral vision scanned the club for his friends.

She laughed flashing her bright white teeth. "I said, are you having a rough night? You seem flustered." She moved closer to him placing her hand on his arm.

He nodded. “Yeah, you could say that." He smiled involuntarily.

"I'm Mae." She smiled sweetly as she rubbed her hand against shirt. She was high too and she wore the contacts to hide the fact that her pupils were dilated. Jughead wondered how much of him she could actually see.  

“I’m Jughead."

"That's an interesting name."

"Its fake." He said casually as he scanned the room again. He saw Archie and Betty heading across the room to where most of the seating was.

She laughed at what she thought was a joke. She took a step closer to him eliminating any space in between them. "You're really hot." She cooed running her hand over his chest.

Jughead was surprised by her words. He had never been called hot before, let alone had a ‘really’ thrown in front of it. He ran his hand through his hair and angled towards her. He didn't know what it was, possibly the annoyance he felt towards Archie and Betty for using him or that he had never been able to pick a woman up in a club before but he decided he was going to go for this girl. The women he did go home with, not that he did it often, were usually sad lonely women in dark bars. They were the only women that would have him, the only women he could get.

He didn’t want to say anything else and possibly ruin his chances with her. So he took a deep breath and leaned in, lightly grasping her chin in between his thumb and index finger and kissed her.

Betty had no idea what had happened. The second Archie started touching her she lost herself in the heightened sensation of his caress. She would have never done what she did if she was sober. She had held on to Jughead while she was being pleasured. She made him a part of their sex life. What was she thinking?

She was so out of it when Archie was fingering her and she wanted to confirm some of the things she thought happened. "Did you kiss Jughead?" She asked him as they took a seat on a couch which had become available.

“Yeah," He nodded nonchalantly, looking over the club as he opened a bottle of water a waifish waitress had handed him. “He also sucked my fingers clean.” Archie bit his lip and sighed frustration. “Fuck, it was hot.”

"Why would you do that?" She sounded angry which was uncharacteristic of her. Archie and Betty saw other people. That was a part of their relationship. They had become more exclusive over the years but they both knew that from time to time they'd go home with someone else. Maybe it was because it was Jughead. He seemed so oblivious to sexuality, like he had no interest in it. It always seemed like the furthest thing from his mind and now it was front in centre in Betty’s mind. Now she was thinking about his full lips wrapped around Archie’s fingers groaning at her taste. She was thinking about how Archie and Jughead would look connected, lips pushed together with a force they both thought was gentle but was anything but. She gasped at these thoughts, her lower abdomen constricting.

These thoughts were dangerous.  

"Why not?" Archie shrugged. “He’s attractive and I felt like it."

She shook her head and took a sip of his water scanning the room. Her eyes stopped on Jughead, his hands and lips all over one of the pretty young things who littered the club. Her breath caught at the sight of him gripping her waist, his hand cupping her ass. It make him seem so commonplace, so normal.

She hated it.

“I want to leave.” She stood smacking Archie on the chest.

“Why?” He asked nestling into the couch, stretching his arms out over the back. “Sit down and relax, enjoy what is left of the high.” He was considering taking a second pill just to keep it going but decided against it. It was already three in the morning and it seemed like a good a time as any to let the party come to an end.

“I’m not high anymore and I want to go home.” She said sitting down beside him. She was still high but it had gone bad and she wanted to climb into bed. She wasn’t looking forward to the come down.  

Archie sighed and shrugged. “Fine, where’s Jughead?”

“Over by the bar I think.” She mumbled, tapping her foot and crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

Archie scanned the bar and saw Jughead with a girl, a beautiful girl, one to rival even Betty’s beauty. A smile creeped across his face as he finally understood why Betty wanted to leave so quickly. She was never one to be subtle about things. “Fine, let’s go.”

Archie stood taking Betty by the hand and dragged her over to their occupied flatmate. “Jug, we’re leaving.”

Jughead peeled himself away from his current hook-up and looked at both of them. “What?”

“Let’s go, bring…” Archie motioned to the girl.

“Mary,” Jughead said.

“Actually it’s Mae.” she corrected.

“We’ll probably just go back to her place.” Jughead assured his friend trying to usher them away so he could pick up where they left off.

“We can’t,” Mae shook her head grasping his bicep. “Renovations, I’m staying with friends.”

“Then come home with us.” Archie suggested.

“Sure,” she smiled sexily at Jughead.

“Wonderful, let’s go.” Betty shouted moving on ahead in a huff. Jughead noticed the dark look in Betty’s eyes and her hunched, tense posture.

Jughead grabbed Mae’s hand and leaned in to speak to Archie as they headed for the exit. “What’s her problem?”

Archie smirked. “You’re holding hands with it.” He ran ahead and slipped his arm around Betty’s shoulder.

Archie’s comment confused Jughead but if he understood it like he thought he did, then Betty was jealous and that idea gave him butterflies in his stomach, it made him feel hopeful.  

It was a feeling he wasn’t used to.

[i-just-love-writing-crap]

Catching Murphy, Part 4

Warnings: Swearing, possible nsfw content Word Count: About 3338 Summary: You, Miss (y/n) (y/l/n), had a crush on Connor Murphy for years, from a distance of course. You had always been too shy to approach him, and the fact around school that he was an aggressive stoner caused you to become even more shy. One day, in history class, your teacher decided to assign a project and assigned everyone a partner—you and Connor were partnered together. Could you two grow close during the project and remain close? Or will Connor go back to ignoring you after the project comes to a close? A/N: I apologize if Connor is a biiiiit OOC… ;-; Obviously takes place in an AU where Connor is alive Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

LAST TIME:

You hesitantly took the joint and brought it up to your lips. A thought crossed your mind: This is kinda like indirectly kissing Connor Murphy!! That thought had your breath catching in your throat and your heart skipped a beat. Again, not even 24 hours ago you would not have even dreamed that a situation like this was remotely feasible—yet here you are about to get an indirect kiss from Connor. Because of a fucking joint. Your body started shaking out of both nervousness and embarrassment? Could you actually do this? Take the hit, take the indirect kiss, and not do something stupid like blurting out something along the lines of your feelings?

No, getting high isn’t like getting drunk… right? you thought to yourself. Might as well do it and see. Let’s see if I, (y/n) (y/l/n), can handle an indirect kiss from C-Connor…

The joint touched your lips and you, no holds barred, took in the deepest breath. Connor’s eyes widened at how big a hit you just took. “Wow, calm down, you fucking dork. That’s way to big a hit for a newbie like you!” he exclaimed.

You knew that holding in and/or swallowing a hit was supposed to get you higher than just immediately breathing out, so you did just that. Your body immediately rejected the smoke, causing you to cough. Not that slight cough, oh no, you doubled over, hacking up a lung coughing. You fell back onto Connor’s bed, your head actually fell onto his stomach and your eyes focused on the ceiling. He had taken the joint from your hands as you started your coughing fit. Connor grabbed the water you had brought for yourself and handed it to you. He told you to drink some water and you listened to him, you sat up and gulped down some water, biting back more coughs. When you were done with drinking for the moment, you sat down the glass and laid back down, resting your head on Connor’s stomach. “Hope you don’t mind,” you said, looking up at him.

He shrugged and answered, “I don’t really have a fucking option. My bed would be the best place to chill while you’re high. Now, if you get really fucking annoying, I will shove your fat-ass onto the floor.”

Laughing, you answered, “I won’t be annoying, Con!”

“I don’t know how you are high, dork, you’ve never been high. And your dumbass decides to take a huge hit like you did,” he sighed, “you’re probably gonna get really annoying.”

You only shrugged and stared at the ceiling fan spinning above you. All of the sudden, every moment you made felt slowed and your nerves felt fried. Your mind felt hazily and buzzing. A smile made itself across your lips, a large, shit-eating grin. Connor offered you another high and you shook your head, “Nah… I’m good… you take the rest…” you said, your voice lower in pitch.

Connor laughed a bit at you and said, “Okay. You doing o-fucking-kay, dork?” He then took another hit after saying that.

“Yeah, I think I am. I feel really… relaxed…? And incredibly happy? Like, it makes me happy doing this with you, Connor. I-I mean, can you believe it—Connor Murphy, the really attractive, really aggressive stoner and me, (y/n) (y/l/n), the teacher’s pet getting high together? I never even thought that I would ever have the guts to talk to you; you seemed so distant all the time, and it made me really shy. A-and I’m already hella shy to begin with,” you began rambling.

“You think I’m attractive?” he asked.

You looked up at him and said, “Yeah. Is that even a question, Connor? I’ve always find you really attractive, all high school I’ve wanted to approach you, but I haven’t built up the confidence to do so.”

Connor looked down at you with raised eyebrows. He was surprised that you would find him attractive, that anyone would find him attractive in the slightest. In fact, he couldn’t believe you found him attractive. “No way you find me attractive,” he said, almost in a pouty voice.

You rolled over onto your side, your face and body facing him, and looked at him. “I do, Murphy. Seeing being so lonely around school makes me just wanna hug you and love you. Because you need it!”

Connor rolled his eyes. “You’re so fucking dumb,” he laughed.

“That’s a lie. I’m really smart, Con. I am the teacher’s pet for every teacher I have had. Plus, I just singlehandedly finished our history project. So you take that back.”

“You’re book-smart, not smart in everything else.”

You laughed and closed your eyes, “Be that as it may, now that we know each other, we can help each other get smart in every way. If you wanna, Con. If not, oh well, more for me. I can always go get Jared Kleinman to help me out.”

That made Connor laugh, “You seriously think Jared could help you with anything?”

“Well, yeah? Isn’t a sex fiend or something?”

“So all you want to learn is sexual stuff?” he asked with a smirk.

Shrugging, you answered, “Not really. I wanna learn a ton of stuff! But I’m still just a virgin in everything, really. Don’t I have to be… devirginized or some shit?”

Connor raised his eyebrows and asked, “Well, you’ve smoked weed for the first time now, what else is there?”

“Getting drunk and having sex. BIG MILESTONES that I have yet to experience,” you laughed out.

“You haven’t had sex?” he asked.

You looked directly into his eyes and you shook your head, answering him, “It’s obvious that I haven’t had sex yet? Firstly, who the fuck would have sex with the teacher’s pet? Secondly, I’ve always been too shy to talk to guys, meaning the only people I associate with are cunts—I’m sorry, I mean girls. Does that answer your question?”

Connor hummed and said, “Well, I can easily fucking rectify the whole you being a virgin thing, if you want?”

It only took a second for your frazzled brain to understand what he had just said. You shot up, sitting on the edge of his bed. “WHAAA?!” you exclaimed, “Did you, Connor fucking Murphy, just suggest that we have sex while we’re high? And what’s worse is that we don’t know each other! Con, are you being fucking serious?”

He laughed and answered you, “Yeah, I’m fucking serious. Unless you wanna have sex when we get kind of drunk. Which we are definitely doing at some point.”

Sitting there, you gaped at Connor and his offer. “B-but… a-aren’t you a virgin, t-too?”

“God no, I lost my virginity to a female drug dealer about freshman year. I still occasionally have sex with that dealer, but that’s only when I have no money and need weed,” he answered.

“Wow, I didn’t know that stuff,” you said. But, taking in his offer, you think long and hard. Even though you were high, you didn’t want to just give your virginity to your crush without getting to know him really well. Because you still kind of wanted to try to be more with Connor Murphy than just a fuck, since that was what you wanted since seventh grade. “Maaybe we could get to know each other more? Before we jump to having sex? I want to know the person I lose it too, if you can understand that. It’s really nice of you to offer right now, but I can’t, in good conscious, have sex with you without getting to know you better. After that, I guess we can be friends with benefits, if you want?”

“Oh my god,” Connor laughed, “you really are a fucking dork, (y/n)!”

You pouted and crossed your arms. “What? Is there something bad about wanting to get to know the person I could possibly fuck?”

“I guess if I want your virginity, I have no fucking choice,” Connor said with a shrug. “But don’t expect me to be any different to you at school.”

“Oh, I don’t. But I do want you to introduce me to your friends, Evan Hansen and Jared Kleinman. Just so I have more friends that are guys.”

“They aren’t even my friends,” he lied.

“You can’t lie to me, Connor. I see you three talking at school, I know you’re friends.”

“Whatever. You’re an idiot, you have a class with Evan. You just never noticed because he’s such a quiet moron,” he said.

You blinked, “Really? I do? What class?”

“English. I only know because that doofus always tries getting me to talk to you, saying how you seem like a nice girl who could get me to change my act. That baby-face always tells me how bright your smile is, and how cute you are when you’re animated about something.”

You blinked again, unable to believe what you were being told, “Really? Evan payed that much attention to me, for you?”

Rolling his eyes, Connor answered, “I fucking guess so. I told him I didn’t fucking care. I didn’t want a relationship with some dork who’s known around school as a teacher’s pet—especially one who I know from history class and seems like she knows everything.”

“You really thought that about me, Con? Just because I was so shy?” you laughed.

“I thought you didn’t really talk to guys because you thought you were better than us,” he shrugged.

“Oh my god, NO! I just got too shy when I even thought about talking to guys. I got anxious that I’d say something dumb or come across as being a bitch. And I just wanna be friends with guys, I’m sick of being friends with only girls.”

Connor smiled, “You dumb ass, you don’t come off as a bitch. You’re really interesting, especially when you talk about Ancient Egyptian history.”

You blushed, “Thanks, Con. I’m really passionate about Ancient Egypt. Been interested in it since I was young. Remember that movie with Brendon Fraser and Rachel Weisz? The Mummy and The Mummy Returns? Yeah, well those were my inspiration and sparked my love of the Ancient Egyptians. And it worries me how bad off modern Egyptians are, too.”

An hour passed and you and Connor stared talking about your home life. It was you who brought it up, asking him why him and his family don’t get along anymore, and you opened the can of worms. Connor went on and on about how his parents thought and treated him like lost cause, like he couldn’t be any different—which really pissed him off. Like, who’s parents just give up on their child who has issues like “Oh no, you’re not worth it, you’ll never get better, there is no point in even trying”?

“I’m sorry about that, Con. That’s terrible. I can assume Zoe’s no better, right? She just feeds them this ‘you’ll never get better’ shit, right?”

“EXACTLY! She’s a bitch who can’t be on my side even once!”

You sighed, “That’s gotta be rough. Having your whole family against you. I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

Yet another hour passed and you two were talking about even more things. This time, it was mainly you opening up about just how inexperienced you truly were. “Like, Connor, I have never kissed a guy before. Never made out with anyone. Never had someone tell me I’m beautiful… that I’m worth anything but my mother. All I have is friends who have tried to get me to talk to the guy I’ve crushed on since seventh grade, and even they don’t call me beautiful. I’m just pretty to them. I-I am scared that my chub will scare away anybody that might possibly like me. I-I’m just a chubby nerd who’s a nobody… nobody will ever wanna be with me.”

You didn’t realize how your breath got short and you started to have a bad trip. Suddenly there were voices in your ear, laughing at you.

“You’re so fat, (y/n). They should change your name to Fatty.”

“You’ll die alone. Don’t try and fight it, fat-ass!”

“How could you even think that you had a chance with Connor Murphy? Fatty having a chance, hell fucking no.”

You combed a shaky hand through your hair and you laughed mirthlessly. Everything is gonna be fine, me. Get a grip. I’m starting to give myself a bad trip, you thought to yourself. “L-like, can you see someone being with me, Connor? Be honest,” you said, not knowing how your voice broke.

Connor noticed what was happening to you and he sat up beside you. “Hey, hey, (y/n), don’t be so hard on yourself. Chub is never really a big deal. You just gotta… kinda own it, you know? So what if you have a bit of fucking chub. It adds fucking charm.”

“You’re just saying that. Chub doesn’t add charm! All it does is give bullies a chance to bully me for no reason! I’m gross and again, I’m a teacher’s pet! I don’t know how to live! I’m always so shy and tense about everything,” you started freaking out. “I-I’m gonna die a lonely old virgin! WHO LIVES WITH WAY TOO MANY CATS!! I’m gonna die never knowing the embrace of a man! Knowing the feeling of my crush’s lips against mine! All because I’m too goddamn scared to tell him anything!”

“I’m sure if you fucking talk to him, he wi—”

“No!” you snapped, “No he won’t understand shit, Connor! He’s such a fucking loner, he would’ve barely noticed me if we hadn’t been forced to do something in a class we share! And even then I still get really fucking anxious talking to him, I get worried I will blurt out my feelings and the he will find me weird and just ignore me for the rest of my life! I want him in my life, Connor. I have loved him from afar for SIX fucking years and never once have I talked to him until literally 12 hours ago!”

“Fucking talk to him, (y/n)! Look, I’m not the one who can say shit, I barely talk to anybody about how I feel, why the hell do you think I smoke as much as I do? But, holy fuck, you need to tell the guy how you feel for shit’s sake! And for the record, you’re really letting go for the little teacher’s pet you are.” He pushed himself off of his bed and added, “Now, I’m going to get you some more water. Okay?”

You looked at him and nodded, “O-okay…”

Connor left is room, with your glass in his hands. “Oh my god, I didn’t know how much shit she had pent up. I wish there was a way to help her get her good trip back, but she may be too far gone on the bad track for me to help her back. Fucking dumbass,” he mumbled to himself.

He never thought that at the beginning of the day that he would she the school’s teacher’s pet getting so high that she was no longer relaxed—and in fact was going on a bad trip. He combed a hand through his long hair as he refilled your water. “She’s a fucking idiot. She shouldn’t’ve taken such a big hit. God, she’s probably asleep in my bed right now,” he said to himself.

His parents had gotten home a while ago and since fixed themselves dinner. He opted to stay upstairs with you, because you were so high you really shouldn’t be shown to the public right now. Connor sighed and decided to head back upstairs to his bedroom, where, like he said, you were probably passed out in his bed. You were pretty high and really needed to sleep off some of said high. It was already 7:30-ish and he was pretty sure that your mother would not let you stay at his house for the night because you got so high.

Sure enough you were in his bed, curled up under his covers. You were reveling in his scent, the smell bringing you out of your anxious state and chilling you out. “It smells so nice,” you muttered to yourself. You were surprised that the smell of you crush would chill you out so much, but it sure did.

“If only I could fucking tell Connor how I feel it would be so much fucking easier! I could finally get the kiss I’ve always wanted from him,” you said silently. As you took in a deep breath of Connor’s scent, you relaxed into his bed even more.

You closed your eyes and just imagined what it would be like if you could tell Connor how you felt. ”Connor Murphy, I like you… and have had a crush on you since seventh grade. If it’s not too much to ask, do you think we could try I dunno… going on a date?” You sighed and said aloud, “Yeah, if only it was that easy…”

“If only what was that easy, you dork?” came Connor’s voice as he entered the bedroom. “Is my fucking bed comfy enough for you?” Connor asked as he neared his bed.

You nodded and covered your lower face with his comforter. “It is… it smells like you, and it, for some reason, relaxed me.”

“So, you’re not tweaking out? No more freaking out?”

Shaking your head, you answered, “Nope. Not anymore.”

“Thank fucking God!” he exclaimed in relieve as he sat down on the bed. “You coming down, Dorkarella?”

“I dunno… maybe?”

“Well, can I at least lay in my own bed?”

“Y-yeah! I don’t mind,” you said and made room for him in his bed. You blushed as he slipped into the bed beside you. You wouldn’t mind spending the night here, beside your crush. In fact, that’s really what you wanted to do. Closing your eyes, you sighed out in content.

Connor looked at you and just shrugged. She’s being a fucking dork again, he thought to himself. He watched the ceiling and was calm until he felt you snuggle up to him, then his eyes went wide and he almost choked on his spit when he heard you say his name? In your sleep?! There was no way you had fallen asleep that fast.

What was happening in your sleep that made you say Connor’s name?

TAGS: @defenestrate-yourself-please @saturdayschilddrivesmewild

I HAD TOO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS PART! If I didn’t cut myself off, it would’ve been so much longer and I gotta do something for my mom real quick.