#Arguments and stuff thrown at me when i wanted to do something id probably just ... Id not do shit and i already almost do that lol

[mrfoox]

Everytime I realize how.... Chill... My mom is im... Im torn between thinking it's the best and not /:

[wonwoosthetic]

series masterlist

word count - 2.1k

pairing - minnie x mingyu (feat. wonwoo at the end)

summary - mingyu thought to have found the perfect chairs for their new apartment… much to minnie’s dismay

a/n - as I went through my mimiwon google poll, a lot of you guys asked for more domestic scenarios and since I also once asked if you'd be okay with short writings, I thought I could post this as well :) just a little something I came up with back when I saw one of their chairs in Mingyu's live haha, kinda random but I hope you like it! <3

Chairs 🌷 Minnie

"Nini!" The familiar loud voice bounced off the walls of their apartment. The female member was sunken into the couch, her laptop propped up on her lap. She had thrown on a slightly thicker sweatshirt due to the colder weather, with a short shirt underneath, knowing she'd probably take off the first layer later in the day.

Each one of the three had been busying themselves separately for the time until their manager would pick them up and bring them to the company's building for their scheduled practice.

"What?" She shouted back at her fellow '97 Liner, who had been in his room, but his quick footsteps suddenly echoed through the hall until they stopped in the living room, right by the couch. Dressed in simple grey sweats and a white shirt - almost a signature look of his.

Mingyu grinned at the girl. "Look at your phone." Said device was on the coffee table, face down to not distract her from the very serious shopping spree Minnie was currently indulging in.

Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as she glanced to the side, up at the taller member. "You're standing right next to. Show me."

"No," he shook his head, "look at your phone."

Not wanting to start a pointless argument in the middle of the day, she leaned forward with a slight sigh to snatch her phone off the surface. Turning it around, the notification she had heard only a few seconds ago was beaming right in her eyes. With one quick click and the face-id feature, the group chat the three dormmates had created after moving in together opened. Mingyu's message, a picture, was right at the bottom. "The chair?" She thought out loud. The rapper had sent a screenshot from a website, showing a white woven chair. As all three of them were getting ready to move into the new place they had chosen to rent, the hunt for new furniture had begun. Some of their old stuff, they'd of course bring along, but as their current apartment was slightly smaller, they'd have a lot more space to fill in the future. Some of that space would be filled with a new and bigger dining table, that would ideally have chairs as well.

Mingyu nodded excitedly. "I just ordered them."

The girl's head snapped towards him, her lips slightly parted. "Huh?"

"Four of them. But I think six might be smarter. For more people, right?"

"You didn't order them." Her statement was possibly supposed to come out as a question, but it surely didn't sound like one. As she took a quick peek back at the picture an almost chuckle fell from her lips.

"I did," he repeated, nodding once again. With a few steps forward, the '97 Liner sat down next to her, grunting as he let himself fall onto the sofa.

"No, you didn't," each time, Minnie tried to convince herself of the fact that this man just admitted to buying four, almost six, of those garden stools, only for them to be put into their new dining space.

"I really did," Mingyu chuckled, not catching up with her distressed reaction. "Look," he held up his phone screen, "We have a similar dining table and it looks good," showing her a picture on the original website.

"But..." The female member stopped herself, "Why did you order them?"

"We said we'd go for a European style, so... you don't like them?" Finally, he had caught onto it.

Minnie could only shake her head, her eyebrows scrunched up apologetically as she locked eyes with him.

"What? Why not?" The rapper gasped.

She shrugged, "They don't look good."

"Yes, they do," he glanced back down at the screen, "If you sit on them, you'll feel like you're in Greece."

"Why would I want to feel like I'm sitting in Greece when I'm in my dining room? Maybe for the terrace, but definitely not for inside!" The girl started arguing.

"You said you liked the European style," Mingyu commented back, his voice getting slightly louder in annoyance.

"Yeah, European as in like... Scandinavian. Not beach style. This isn't cute for a dining room."

He shook his head, pushing himself back to stand up. "Look at them once they're here, and then maybe you'll like them. How would you know that now?"

Minnie was quick to shake her head, her laptop already back on the coffee table. "No, because I don't like this style in general. And my mom's an interior designer, I think I have a pretty good eye then."

He shrugged, "Maybe you don't."

The female member scoffed, thinking for a second if she should continue that exact conversation, but decided against it. "Why would you even order them without asking us first? I ask you guys about everything too!"

"You didn't when you ordered that knife set," Mingyu pointed out, on his way to the kitchen, but turned around when he noticed the serious stance the girl had taken.

"Are you serious?!" She huffed out, "What's bigger? The only four chairs at the dining table or three knives out of many more that we'll have?"

"But I'm gonna use the knives the most probably," he argued. A good point, but Minnie wasn't going to admit that in the heat of the moment.

"I'm gonna use them too!"

"Yeah, but me too! And you didn't ask me about them," he stated, now walking back to open the fridge door, and getting the bottle of water he was looking for. 

"Okay!" The female member shot up from her place on the sofa, palms up. "Go and ask Wonwoo what he thinks of the chairs."

The oldest of the three was on the better end of the situation as he had been sitting at his gaming set-up for the past two hours. The noise-cancelling headphones being the biggest blessing as they kept him guarded off every single word that came from the '97 Liners.

"He said he doesn't care about the furniture. And," he added sheepishly, "he actually likes the European style."

"Mingyu! This isn't European!" Minnie whined out loud, holding her face in her hands. A frustrated sigh tumbled from her lips. She took a deep breath, trying to collect herself and not get too riled up over some chairs he had ordered, but he was really testing her. 

"You know what?" With her phone in her hands, she started to make her way away from the couch and over to the small hallway that would eventually lead to the gamer's room. "I'll go and ask him since you clearly don't understand why this is-" 

"Wait-"

The girl's rant was quickly interrupted when the taller member got a hold of her arm, pulling her in, making her back hit his chest and keep her from walking further.

"Let me go!" She fought against his tight embrace. But with no luck. "Mingyu, I swear to God-"

He tightened his arms around her, "Just listen to me-"

"Let me go and I'll listen," Minnie argued, stopping her frantic movements to try and shake him off.

"No, look-"

"I'm not listening."

The rapper sighed, "You'll go running as soon as I let go of you."

"No, I won't," she scoffed, turning her head to look up at Mingyu, only to find him with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes." She spoke quietly, closing her eyes and nodding her head in etiquette.

As genuine as she sounded, the '97 Liner had known her for long enough to know how good of a romancer she had become, knowing just how to use her words and facial expressions for her benefit. 

He grinned, "But listen to me first-"

"Mingyu! NO!" The girl started giggling in his arms, her hands coming up to wrap around his wrists, trying to push them off, which laughing only made it harder than it already was. "Leave me alone."

"Promise you won't go running off to Wonwoo-hyung," he tried to argue with her, a smile still evidently on her face, as well as on hers now.

Minnie rolled her eyes with a chuckle, "Sure, whatever, I promise. Just let me go," whining the last part out loud, trying to free herself with one last wiggle of her shoulders.

"That doesn't sound very convincing," Mingyu laughed at her attempt, only tightening his grip and pulling her deeper into him, getting a groan from the female member in return. 

Her head snapped back, her hair tickling his chin for a split second. 

"I'll scream." She suddenly threatened, getting a chuckle and 'tsk' in return. "You don't believe me?"

"Minnie-"

"OPPA-!" Her shrill voice echoed through the open room and hallway, only to be cut off within a second by Mingyu's big hand covering her mouth.

"Are you crazy?!" He glanced down at her with wide eyes, genuinely surprised by the sudden outburst. "What are the people underneath us gonna think?"

"I told you, I'd do it." He could feel her grinning underneath his palm, making him roll his eyes. His hand left her face before turning her body around in his embrace, now chest to chest with the smiling girl peeking up at him

"You're really annoying sometimes," he commented, not able to hold back copying her expression with the way she was looking at him.

With a finger to his chest, she blinked up, "But only sometimes," her lips curling into a sheepish smile.

Minnie patted the big muscle underneath his top, "Cancel the order," fluttering her eyelashes extra much, "Please."

"Maybe."

Her act immediately fell, her arms dropping down to her sides while his was still around her shoulder.

"But-" she was once again cut off, only this time by the messenger sounds from both of their phones. He reached into his back pocket, giving the girl the possibility to wiggle out of his embrace, now standing in front of him with her arms crossed.

After one quick look at the screen, he spoke up again. "We have to go." Informing her that the manager was probably already waiting for them downstairs.

"Cancel the order first," the female member didn't back down, continuing her argument.

Mingyu sighed, "Later." Before turning around to get to the front door to put on his shoes and jacket, "Get Wonwoo-hyung."

"Mingyu, cancel it, I'm serious. They're ugly," she continued, but he glanced passed her and raised his voice to call out for the older member, who was already coming out of the door to his gaming room, fixing the sweater he was wearing.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," he passed the girl, joining Mingyu in the hallway. Minnie looked at him almost offended. "You didn't hear me when I called out for you but when he does it you're up in a second?" Putting the fact that he was probably not wearing his headphones anymore these few seconds ago.

"When did you call for me?" Wonwoo wondered, crouching down to get his left foot into the sneaker.

The girl scoffed with a chuckle, walking up to him, "Wow... good to know you wouldn't hear if I was getting murdered."

Mingyu rolled his eyes with a sigh when the '96 Liner glanced at her in confusion and slight concern at the same time.

"Don't say stuff like that," reaching out to tap her chin. Minnie just shook her head and moved to her own pair of shoes in the corner.

The younger rapper was waiting for her, already in his outerwear, holding out his hand with her jacket in his grip. Without a word, she snatched it from him.

"You're being overdramatic," he commented, grazing a hand over her head of hair.

"Cancel the order, and I won't be," she shrugged off his statement, brushing past him to get to the door, but with his much longer legs, he had caught up with her, getting a hold of the handle first. He opened it and motioned for her to walk out first, chuckling even before his answer dropped from his tongue.

"Maybe later."

"Mingyu-" she turned back around, ready to smack him, only to be pushed further out the door by Wonwoo rolling his eyes in amusement behind her.

You better bet she was sulky about the situation during their practice session as well. And maybe the multiple times she then stepped on Mingyu's foot weren't all that accidental after all.

Taglist: @waosobii @chaebb @lunarxsun @hoe4wonwoo @kimhyejin3108 @soobzao @billboard-singer @cosmicwintr @zwiehe @alixnsuperstxr @angie-x3 @smooore @allthings-fandoms

[lieslab]

hihi dear author !!

i just followed you like yesterday and read almost all of your fics in a sitting AHAHAHH

i cant even express how much i loved them all like so SO MUCH. i adore your way with words- it is really something and just so much more than perfection honestly, genuinely so so sosossoso comforting heart touching and well written :((((

im not sure if your reqs are still open? but if they are, id want to make one bc i think youd write it really well like capturing the actual essence of the situation? hehe

f!yn x bf!chan ; comfort/fluff/angst (any 2 or all 3 is fine too!) they're young, under 21, age gap of 1 year or 3 max? them being roomies, yn having daddy issues [dad being not physically abusive but absent, lying, selfish; mentally draining-yn pretty much avoids him] and chan knowing very little about it. yn's parents dont talk to each other and basically she's the 'communicator' between them and its draining; until one day they're getting a divorce and yn is communicating it. she is happy because she wanted this for way too long she was sick of the arguments and even her dad arguing with HER when she defended her mum. so for some reason she just tears up and cries slightly. its just all overwhelming. and then chan just comforting her and stuff. could be a sprinkle of angst in the middle, up to you totally !! js really need it heh🥹

sorry if im asking for a lot😭😭 id appreciate it sm if u do write it, and if u dont, idm either its up to you !! once again thank u for your fics <333

have a happy day ml <3 💞 ~anon🍙 (maybe check your inboxes if u wanna know who i am😭)

Omg hello. ALL OF THEM?!?!? That's crazy. Some of them are like a year old and not written well. Thank you 🥹 I try my best with my stuff. Sometimes they are and sometimes they're not. Currently, they're not, but I've given up on keeping track of them. So if something gets thrown in my inbox, I add it to my list of requests. I believe I have like two or three currently.

I haven't been writing a ton recently because honestly, I haven't been having a great time with life. I think the majority of it is the weather. It's cold and icky outside, I just want to curl up in my bed and hibernate, but I'm trying my best to get through it.

Lately, I've been writing a request, writing a drabble that I randomly come up with, and then I go back to writing a request, and then go back to another random one I pull from my ass. I do every request by first come, first serve, so it'll probably be a bit. Forgive me, I'm fighting my own inner demons.

Reading all of that was like a knife to the heart. That was a little too real actually. Too relatable, holy shit. I don't really go into age range specifics on my stuff because I try to keep it neutral, unless it specifically calls for it. With yours, although it is personalized, I'll probably make it gender neutral and not mention ages. You know what you want, so you're very welcome to imagine it that way in your head. I find it's easier that way with most drabbles. I usually don't describe the reader because I like people being able to fall for the illusion and sink into the story.

You just untapped some feelings that have been dormant in my heart for so long, so I guarantee that it's probably going to have quite a bit of angst sprinkled throughout, but I'll definitely make it comforting in the end. Sometimes for some of the drabbles, I very specifically write them to get out my own personal feelings about issues in my life. This was a great request because I've gone through this myself.

Sometimes we're still healing from things we never talk about. Parents can cause some havoc and sometimes, it's incredibly difficult to go through things and then keep trying to go on and succeed in life. Everyone wants good parents and healthy relationships, but for some, unfortunately, that's not how life goes. It hurts, it sucks, and it's shitty. I wish that aspect of life was different for a lot of people.

This sounds so personal, so I hope you have people around you supporting you. It doesn't matter if you're a teenager or in your twenties, thirties, and so on. Issues with parents can be tough to deal with. I'm snooping in my inbox after I post this.

You're not asking for a lot, you're asking for a flicker of hope. That's not too much, you just want some comfort for your situation. I'll do my best, but don't be surprised if you see other random drabbles first. I will not forget, I write all my drabbles down in a notebook.

Thank you for reading my stuff and coming to visit. Sometimes I doubt my writing abilities and get too in my head, so I love it when people come hype it up. I'll write it down and get it out when I can <3

[notmanagingmymischief]

ok ok first of all, thank you for being so sweet with me :") i love you sm sxjnsjxhs 💕💕

now. im just going to say that this happened irl btw lol so. yeah, theres this friend of mine who i like quite a bit, they have always managed to be nice and understanding of my anxiety, adhd and what else is probably going on inside my brain lol so i grew very fond of them and also came to trust them a lot.

but, today, while we were doing a group project w the just the two of us, when deciding upon a few matters i became overwhelmed and couldnt think properly - which happens quite often tbh - and they then suddenly snapped at me for being 'way too slow' regarding figuring things out for said project, and that i should just do things on the spot, and do them quickly - even though thats something i kept on telling them about ever since we met, that this is definitely not how it works for me, unfortunately.

i became rather defensive because if that was something that i could change for their sake then i would do so at any given moment, trust me on that. but i couldnt. i mean, its my brain after all-

i tried to tell them that we were different, that despite whatever they tried to say i couldnt just work at the very same pace as them. but after some ridiculous arguments being thrown, i was just tired and decided to shut up and continue on doing what we were doing anyway.

so.. what made me extremely confused is that they never acted that way with me, they were always so sweet and just. so understanding of me. i was genuinely sad to see them angry like that and cant stop wondering if i did something wrong, or if me being so slow was actually my fault.

i just. dont know what to think of this and wanted a clearer picture before just deciding to talk to them about this, you know ?

im sorry if this is confusing, and if so i can totally make a few things clearer for you - add details and such.

i just want to know if im in the wrong here, and if im the one who should be properly apologizing to them about this-

also. theyre very focused on the school system and tend to be very strict regarding lessons and stuff like that, so them lashing out like this because we were late to deliver this project would be def reasonable, but they always seemed to understand where i stood in such a fucked up system and that i couldnt function or thrive in a place as such like they could, so i always hoped and assumed that they truly came to know about matters like this, and that they wouldnt get mad at me for not being able to fit in properly.

(i too dont know why they kept on being by my side all this time if im way too slow for them, or why they kept on pairing up with me if they have more than friends than i will ever have on that school. they could have just picked someone else, but despite knowing how slow i am they still accepted being my partner and still came to lash out on me for being. me apparently ?)

i genuinely dont know what happened and dont want to continue on making them angry at me because of this, and i surely dont want to lose the only friend i have there.. so, if you have any advice or if you might know what the hell just happened id greatly appreciate it ;;

(sorry for the huge text btw. im just bad at like. summarizing things)

sorry this took me forever to answer i was proofreading some work mbgfhtjv

ANYWAY i did my best to space this out well enough to understand--at least how it would help me to understand hyugtjhrytnh-

now this is...this is a really tough topic hun. as someone who also has executive dysfunction--not that i'm saying that's what you necessarily have, i'm just using the term from my end--i know what it's like to not be able to work at the same pace as everyone else.

so i'll let you know the most important thing first: this was not your fault. it will never ever be your fault that you don't work the same way that they do. alright? that's very very important to remember, no matter how much you may feel like it.

it is not your job to apologize for being different, that's like me apologizing for not liking guys when my best friend is only attracted to men, you understand? you didn't choose to be born different, just like i didn't choose to be born gay.

now that that's through. i realize how difficult this is to comprehend, especially as it's coming from someone you trust and has been here through this, working with you. it's exceptionally strange that they would just....do that randomly? however they could have issues at home, or online, etc. there's a multitude of reasons why they could have snapped today; things could have been building for a while and your comment might have just made them break.

i think the best approach for you--and you in no way have to do this, i'm just going off personal experience yet again--would be to address them privately, ask them if they're doing well and be nice about questioning what happened. don't accuse them of doing something wrong, just tell them that, hey, that really hurt me and i'm really confused on why you'd do this when you've been nothing but sweet with me.

you know? i hope that all makes sense, again i'm sorry for taking ages to answer hutrgjhn

i love you!! 💚💚

[jimmygibbsjrrr]

I have a lot of thoughts about the Slaters

namely, I've been wonderin why the Fairfield Survivors got thrown off the boat in Death Toll

in this panel of The Sacrifice comic, Francis confirms the fates of three of the rescue vehicles:

Image ID:

A panel from The Sacrifice: Part 1. Francis is sat in the rescue vehicle from Blood Harvest, speaking to Louis. His dialogue is as follows:

"Louis, I hate to be the one to break this to ya, but we been heading to the safe zone four times now. Helicopter: crashed. Plane: crashed. Boat: kicked us out and left us to die."

/end ID

the chopper from No Mercy was confirmed crashed in Crash Course, and as for the plane from Dead Air, it was pretty easy to guess (and would have been confirmed in the cut campaign Dam It).

but the part about the boat? that's the Slaters' boat from Death Toll. this is the first time we learn this information.

so...why? what happened?

(more under the cut, ended up writing wayyyy more than I expected over these past few days and don't wanna clog people's dashes lol)

so. let's take a quick dive into the last chapter of Death Toll, to see what we can discern about the Slaters from their dialogue.

the rescue vehicle in Death Toll is a civilian boat, Saint Lidia II, owned by John and Amanda Slater, a married couple. Amanda is never heard in-game, but John's reactions to her can be heard over the radio.

the Slaters are explicitly looking for "anyone out there with firearms". John later adds that "once you get on this boat? Your job is keeping our asses alive". it appears that their motivation for saving the Survivors is selfish from the get-go.

this is undoubtedly true in Amanda's case, however, some of John's lines betray a more selfless attitude. he will berate Amanda for not "think[ing] about the little guy". he will ask, "So what, then? We leave 'em to die? I can't do that, Amanda." whilst Amanda is thinking purely of their own survival, John still feels compassionate towards his fellow survivors. despite this, he says that "I don't want our first act of kindness to be our last", acknowledging the conflict between his compassion and his self-preservation.

so. these are the Survivor's saviours in Death Toll. a conflicted married couple looking for bodyguards, offering to take the Survivors upriver to a military safe zone in exchange for protection.

as for why they get thrown off the boat...well, the easiest explanation would be Amanda.

but, stay with me here, because I think it's a little more complicated than that.

this boat? fulla tension. there's the obvious tension between the Slaters, who we've established seem to fight and disagree regularly. then there's the inevitable tension between them and the Survivors. I reckon Louis, with his generally positive and friendly attitude, wouldn't have much of a problem with them, might even attempt some friendly conversation or something. however, he's about the only one.

the comic fully establishes Bill as caring about nobody except the Fairfield Survivors - the most obvious evidence of this being the words he lives and dies by, "we look after our own". he isn't particularly interested in other people, unless they can help the group out. and he'd likely recognise the unstable and conditional nature of their rescue. while I'm sure he'd try and keep the peace, in any reasonable disagreement or fight Bill's likely to take his friends' side, and if anyone's getting thrown off the boat Bill is going with them. this goes for the whole group, to be honest; I don't think they'd want to split up at this point.

Francis hates boats, hates water, and can't swim, so (and I'm getting a little speculate-y here) would probably be in an even sourer mood than usual on the journey. being as abrasive as he is, plus this additional stress, it's fully possible he could piss off the Slaters enough to get himself (or all of them) thrown off the boat.

as for Zoey? well, I don't imagine a married couple who constantly argues is gonna sit well with her, considering her backstory. similarly to Francis, the situation they're in would make her far more stressed, making it more likely for her to lash out.

Amanda didn't want to save the Survivors in the first place, so while I think that John wouldn't throw them off the boat without reason, I reckon she could persuade him to throw them off if they 'caused trouble' - and they would get into an argument with her far easier than they would with John.

in short: yeah, I can see them getting thrown off the boat by the Slaters after some huge fight or disagreement. I think that's a reasonable interpretation of canon, and definitely an interesting concept.

...however, I do wonder if this tension would really be enough to destabilise their mutual need, after everything they went through to come together.

which is why I'm going to bring up The Last Stand!

I gotta quickly address something before this segment: yeah, I'm totally aware this campaign isn't canon. this evidence works with the fact that it exists in an 'alternate timeline'. also, I am missing a few citations for this section - if anyone can provide them I'd really appreciate it, but just a disclaimer that I currently can't prove some of the things the wiki claims members of the Last Stand Community Update Team have said. here and here are the wiki pages where I got this information. in short - the above explanation is simpler and more canon compliant, the conclusion I draw at the end of this post is backed by shakier evidence but I believe is more interesting, and you can make of all that what you will.

allegedly, members of the Last Stand Community Update Team confirmed a strongly-suspected fan theory about The Last Stand: that it branches off from Death Toll in some way, in a non-canon alternative timeline. as well as this, they allegedly confirmed that in this alternative timeline, the Survivors still end up in Newburg for Dead Air. even without the confirmation, this remains a solid fan theory, due to the constant references to Riverside and re-use of many of Death Toll's assets.

who rescues the Survivors in The Last Stand? John Slater. no Amanda - just John. despite her lack of voice actress, if she was still present John would give some indication of this at some point. it can be speculated that whatever happened to her contributed to the lack of rescue at the boathouse that forced the Survivors to take an alternative route. either way, he ends up at the lighthouse when the Survivors call for rescue, alone, and picks them up.

and then later...throws them off the boat. into Newburg.

what reason would John have to do that? without Amanda, surely he wouldn't have that push, as he wanted to rescue the Survivors for multiple reasons in the first place. without his constant arguments with Amanda, Zoey wouldn't be nearly as stressed. and between the three of them I'm sure the other Fairfield Survivors would stop Francis from pissing John off enough to get them thrown off the boat. in short, less Amanda = less tension, and no reason for the Survivors getting chucked off the boat.

...right?

I'd like to remind you that a symptom of the Infection is paranoia.

what if, in both The Last Stand and Death Toll, John and Amanda are infected by the Survivors on the way to the military safe zone? after all, the virus is confirmed to occasionally be airborne, and I doubt two civilians have completely effective, sustained protection against that. likely the only reason they hadn't already been Infected is because they got out on the water early on in the pandemic, and hadn't come into contact with anyone else since. it's unlikely that one of them is immune, and even more unlikely that they're both immune (especially considering those with XX chromosomes may be genetically less likely to be carriers). wouldn't Francis have mentioned it if their rescuers turned or were obviously Infected? yes, but it's possible that the airborne strain works slower as well, meaning that the Survivors are thrown off of the boat after the symptoms kick in but before the Slaters fully turn. even Church Guy had at least an hour from being Infected to turning, and he was bitten. Newburg isn't too far from where the Survivors are rescued in Death Toll anyway (the burning city in the background of the finale is Newburg), so the Survivors clearly didn't last long on the boat anyway. as a result, the Survivors wouldn't realise it was the Infection intensifying the Slaters' paranoia - they'd just think the Slaters were being dicks. Francis also explicitly mentions that they were "left to die", implying negativity or even hostility from the Slaters as the Survivors were being thrown off.

so yeah. that's why I think they got thrown off of the boat in Death Toll - a combination of the intense tension between the two parties, and the Slaters falling victim to Infection-induced paranoia. but an explanation minus the Infection is equally as plausible. it all depends on what you find most interesting, I suppose, and both feel like they fit pretty well into the world.

lord this is a long chunk o text. I know most fandoms prefer art and fanfic over this sorta thing, so please let me know in replies or something if you're interested in more stuff like this. also if any of this makes sense because I like to ramble.

oh and if you'd like to use any of my interpretations in fanworks like art or fic, I'd love to see it :)

[barricadebops]

Combeferre's mom once came home to find her son and his two best friends, tangled, sleeping in the couch, she has that picture framed next to Ferre's high school diploma.

Hi anon! I’m so sorry this took so long! Forgive me? I really loved this prompt and I wanted to do it justice.

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Despite everything, Christmas and the holiday break surrounding the winter season had never really been stressful for Enjolras. Every year held the same routine: first Combeferre’s mother would sprint to the elementary school which soon gave way to the middle school which soon gave way to the high school he, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac would attend, and, gasping for breath, ask Enjolras if he would like to spend holiday break with their family. Right as Enjolras would open his mouth to answer the question, Courfeyrac’s mom would materialize out of the air and tug him to their side and ask him if he would like to spend holiday break at their house. Then each of the mother’s would demand to know how dare the other have the audacity to ask Enjolras to spend holiday break at her house when she knows that it’s her turn, and the fathers would passive aggressively try to nab the same parking spot to pick their son up from, and in the end, Enjolras would head home after having promised each family that he would think on it. Then, the next day, the cycle would start over again when both Combeferre and Courfeyrac latched onto either of his arms and tug, demanding he spend holiday break with him, and while he would scowl and pretend it’s an annoyance, he was never really able to tamp down the beam that would eventually make its way onto his face during the whole argument, and he knew that Combeferre and Courfeyrac too knew how much he loved it—loved feeling wanted, loved feeling like he’s part of a family even if he didn’t necessarily hold the blood relations within it, because God knew that what little he had of his family--his father--never welcomed him.

Usually, Enjolras alternated houses each holiday break, but it never stopped the arguments from occurring. 

This year would have been the same. He was gearing up for the arguments even though he knew that this year he would be spending his time at Combeferre’s house. 

But there were none. No one had to argue. There were no laughs or smiles or pretenses at being mad at each family as if they were the Montagues and the Capulets. 

This year, Enjolras spent the first day of his junior year holiday break curled up in Combeferre’s bed while his two best friends and each of their parents all stood downstairs in the living room, speaking in hushed tones about the only person who wasn’t present in the room. 

Beside the bed on the nightstand stood the few barebone possessions Enjolras had stored in his pocket when his father had finally thrown him out of the house. There laid his wallet, filled only with a few measly dollars and his ID and license, among a few other things, his phone, a pack of gum, and a granola bar wrapper. 

He doesn’t think sleep will come to him tonight. Not while the sight of the little he has left to his name stares at him, a reminder of the fact that his father believes he’s only valuable to be allowed a pack of gum as edibles when he locked the door in his face. 

Enjolras knows his father is no fool; he knows that as soon as he uttered the words “get out,” that his son would appear on the doorstep of either the Combeferres or the de Courferyacs, that they would plunge their household into an emergency situation and get him in the shower, into new clothes, into a new bed, after having some warm food—but he also knows that if they hadn’t been there for him, he wouldn’t care either way where his son ended up. 

And then Courfeyrac and his family had been called over, and here he was, shaking in bed, a nuisance, rather than be out there, discussing the logistics of the situation with everyone. 

He doesn’t think motion will come easy to him either for a while. 

The door creaks open, spilling streams of light from the bright hallway into the dark room, and he finds he has to squint to make out the distinct figure of Courfeyrac gently padding into the room and gingerly seating himself at his bedside, right beside his face. His best friend cards a gentle hand through his hair. 

“Combeferre?” he mumbles unintelligibly, wondering where he was. His mouth feels dry—like no amount of water will get rid of that sharp feeling when he swallows and his throat cries out for nourishment. 

Courfeyrac gives him a small smile. “He’s gone over to your house with his father. He’s getting your stuff.” 

Enjolras coughs. When had he been coming down with a cold? “He’s probably thrown it all away by now,” he responds, shutting his eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the little he has on the nightstand. Courfeyrac cards his hand through his hair once more, and Enjolras leans in a little closer. This touch, at least, is gentle. He hasn’t felt such a thing in a while. 

“That fast?” Courfeyrac asks quietly. He nods with another cough. His friend gives him a pained look, and Enjolras knows how it must pain him not to portray his comfort through some form of touch—it’s how Courfeyrac expresses love and care, and Enjolras doesn’t want to see that look on his face, and truth be told he too wants it, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it, not like this, not in this situation—

But then, Courfeyrac comes through, like he always does, because he’s always there, he’s always been there just as Combeferre has, since they each met each other in kindergarten and decided through means of their friendship bracelets that they would always be there for each other, like the first time Courfeyrac’s heart had been broken, or the first time Combeferre failed a biology exam and started to doubt his potential to pursue his dreams of becoming a doctor, or the first time Enjolras had the courage to tell his friends about the verbal abuses his father would throw him, and Courfeyrac is there, real and solid, he’s not just an apparition, or a friend his father says simply “tolerates him,” and he’s asking him, “Can I hug you?” 

And Enjolras is nodding, nodding because he needs this, he lets Courfeyrac wrap his arms around him tight, he caves in and fists his friend’s shirt, and reality is crashing down on him, but as real as his father’s words to never come back, as real as the uncertainty of his future is, so too is the reality of his friends’ love for him. 

And if they both fall asleep like that, and Combeferre gently opens the door to the sight of his two friends curled around each other, as if the past few hours never occurred, if he joins them on the bed, then that just serves as further proof that even if the world comes crumbling down around them, at least they’ll be together, salvaging what little they can and rebuilding their own, better world.

_________________________________________

They managed to retrieve most of his possessions, actually. 

Well. His father would argue that they’re really his possessions because they were bought with his money, but Combeferre and his father wouldn’t hear of it. The important thing is they retrieved the legal documents necessary, and quite a few of Enjolras’ clothes and books, amongst various other things. 

When they finish raiding the house, Enjolras’ father asks with a sneer to leave him alone from then on. 

How ridiculous, thinks Combeferre. If Enjolras was going to start living with his family now, he does realize there’s going to have to be some legal discussion on the transference of possession of a minor, doesn’t he?

---------------------------------------------------

They’re sitting on the couch, bundled underneath a blanket while Combeferre’s parents are out dealing with the legalities of the situation, and they are watching, of all shows, Maury, and Enjolras can’t stop complaining, but Courfeyrac won’t change it, even if he loathes the show (honestly just loathes daytime television—who actually enjoys this stuff?) because there—there—there’s that relaxed, unstressed attitude he’s been trying for so hard to coax from Enjolras in the past few weeks that Courfeyrac has been staying with Combeferre’s family, trying to ease Enjolras into this new transition with as much support as he can give. 

“You… are… the… FATHER!!!” Maury screams on tv, pointing to the man everyone already knew would have been. From his position—head in Enjolras’ lap, he can see the way Enjolras’ expressions contort to one of exasperation and irritation at having to watch something so unbelievably garbage. 

“Okay, you know who the father is, now can we please watch something else?” he asks for the hundredth time. 

Reaching up, he pokes a finger in Enjolras’ cheek. “But, Enjolras! There’s a new episode starting up right after this! Don’t you want to know about…” he casts his arm around for the remote, reading the description for the next episode, “...Garth cheating on Cheryl with her friend… Helen?” 

Enjolras looks down at him, incredulous. “Courfeyrac, please.” 

“Yes, Courfeyrac,” Combeferre says as he drops down on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in his hands, “change the channel. There’s only so much of Kathy accusing Abigail of carrying her husband’s child that I can take.” Setting it aside on the coffee table in front of them all, he drapes an arm around Enjolras, a silent invitation. 

And when Enjolras leans in, settling his head on Combeferre’s chest without flinching or tensing up for the first time in so many days, Courfeyrac smiles.

Pouting, he pretends to be upset at the way Enjolras and Combeferre gang up on him. “Fine, then what do you say we watch—and no, Ferre, we’re not watching a Nat Geo documentary. This isn’t the time for Nat Geo documentaries.”

Combeferre looks affronted. “Fine. But that means we’re not watching Bridget Jones’ Diary again.” 

He gasps, outraged. “Excuse you! Bridget Jones’ Diary is a cult classic.” He glances back up at Enjolras. “Back me up here, Enj.” 

Enjolras snorts. “Why would I waste my time watching Bridget Jones get together with knock off Mr. Darcy when I can instead watch Elizabeth Bennet get together with real-deal Mr. Darcy? After some due insults, that is,” he ends, smiling a little. 

Sighing dramatically, he reached up to twist one of Enjolras’ curls around his finger. “All this talk of Lizzy Bennet and Mr. Darcy from you Enjolras, and yet I still don’t see you looking for your own Mr. Darcy. You’ve roasted the shit out of plenty of people. When are we going to find someone who tells you that you’ve bewitched them body and soul?”

Enjolras scrunches his nose as Combeferre shakes his head. “Enjolras ‘roasts the shit’ out of bigots in school. I doubt he’d want to go out with racist Randy from history class.”

“I thought we were deciding what movie we were going to watch, not my love life,” complains Enjolras. 

“And I’m just trying to find you a love life!” he shoots back. 

Enjolras raises an eyebrow. “If I’m Elizabeth Bennet, and you’re unjustly interfering in my love life, wouldn’t that make you Mrs. Bennet, then?” 

He gasps. “You take that back!” 

Enjolras smiles smugly, resuming carding his fingers through Courfeyrac’s hair. “I can think very well of another bookworm who Mr. Bennet would be,” he says with an air of superiority. Courfeyrac blushes and glares up at him, just as Combeferre breaks from looking through Netflix and goes hm? 

“Let’s get back to looking for a movie,” he mutters. 

And then—

Then—

Courfeyrac would risk his crush being exposed hundreds of times if it meant he could hear Enjolras laugh again like that, laugh after so long, after so many weeks of being so tense, so much more tense than boys their age should be. He beams as he watches Enjolras try and recover himself from his fit of laughter, and under the blanket, he squeezes Combeferre’s hand, and he smiles even brighter when as he watches Combeferre watch their best friend softly, some of the past few days’ tension dissipate, though they all know it’s not gone completely. 

But here in this moment, as Enjolras laughs, which makes Courfeyrac laugh, and in turn makes Combeferre furrow his eyebrows trying to figure out what he missed, it exists as something outside their reality. 

“You know what we should watch?” Enjolras finally manages to say when he’s caught his breath. Combeferre sees the look in Enjolras’ eyes and sighs. 

“But it’ll be the second time this month.”

Courfeyrac catches on quickly. “As if you haven’t watched the same Nat Geo documentary four times in the same month.” He casts his eyes back up to Enjolras and gives him a small salute. “I second the motion, dear leader!” 

As Enjolras bursts out into laughter once more, Combeferre heaves another sigh and begins to look through Netflix, resigned to his fate. Though, he admits it’s a rather good fate. Honestly, who doesn’t love this movie? 

Enjolras snuggles closer into Combeferre’s chest. Combeferre tightens his arm around Enjolras’ shoulder. Enjolras continues to card his fingers through Courfeyrac’s curls. Courfeyrac has his feet thrown up on Combeferre’s lap. All three of them burrow under the blankets as, on screen, Grandpa begins to recite the tale of Westley and Buttercup’s love story. 

_________________________________________

Unsurprisingly, it is Enjolras who falls asleep first, head heavy on Combeferre’s chest. Courfeyrac would have smiled at the sight, if he wasn’t also on the verge of falling asleep. Combeferre considers making two trips and carrying his two friends up the stairs and two his room, but his own eyes are drooping closed, and the blankets were warm, and so were his friends. 

He figures they’ll all wake up later anyways. 

---------------------------------------------------

They don’t wake up for a while. 

The movie is over and something absurd Netflix has suggested is playing, but dimly, as her son, Enjolras, and Courfeyrac all sleep on, bundled together.

Can anyone blame her, really, when Mme. Combeferre cannot resist and snap a picture?

Right now, the entire world seemed to be crashing down on those three, and on her family and the de Courfeyracs. 

But here is a moment in which they reside in this little space of bliss they have—carefree, the weight of the world off their shoulders, the weight of problems they shouldn’t have to deal with—and it is a moment worth capturing, a reminder that maybe, hopefully, soon enough, things will be okay. 

Two years later, as her son and his two best friends—one of which she had considered another one of her sons the moment she had seen him when the three were all in kindergarten—leave for university, she breathes out, looks back, and nods. 

Yes, things had turned out okay. 

Next to her son’s and Enjolras’ high school diplomas hangs that same picture—the three all snuggled on the couch. At the de Courfeyrac’s the same hangs in the living room, and as the three boys—the triumvirate, she thinks with a fond roll of her eyes—head off to their new residence at university where they’ll stay together, as they had always meant to, she knows that the framed copy she sent with her son will hang there too. 

Things turned out okay. 

[blackwoolncrown]

This is so interesting. Much of what I know about Asexuality is from my (ex) best friend who told me that by having crushes and telling her about them, I oppressed her in a sense. At the time I didn't realize how toxic she was in my life but ultimately my knowledge about Asexuality comes from her. That she is inherently queer and has always identified w the community, stuff like that. Some things she said that kind of pierced me hurtfully was that she considered all allosexuals stupid and oppres

“and oppressive, which made me wonder why we were friends. I did understand that she felt incredibly pressured to have sex and that it was lumped into our society and thrown everywhere. I also knew she was dealing with pressures of marriage from society and she was worried about having to have sex with someone bc our society expects that in relationships. I mentioned once that after a trauma I experienced (murder of a close friend) I was ace for a while (wrong wording) bc I couldn't feel any (2)“

“(3) i couldn't experience any sexual urges anymore much less imagine that as a good thing. I was completely dead inside for a bit. She tried not to offend but she did mention that Asexuality isn't something that can come and go in phases like the effects on your libido after a trauma, that being ace is an identity defined from your being and isn't negotiable. Kind of like being gay, where it's not something that can be separated from yourself or you can change if you wanted to. I stopped saying“

“(4)stopped saying it that way. I kind of understood what she meant and honestly shouldn't have used the word ace to describe that year for myself. She was right, I knew that feeling that way wasn't normal for me and so probably couldn't use that word as a verb or adjective, it's more an identity. What do you think? That's as far as I'm familiar with the term. We're no longer friends. One thing I'll never forget is how after I came out to her @ 19, she said, Well You'll always be straight to me.“

First off, I think Ace as an identity and ‘Asexuality’ as a biological occurrence need to be understood as interlinked but still somewhat separate, because ‘Asexuality’ as a state/phenom happens for a lot of reasons, at different durations of people’s lives. And I think the most troublesome dialogue out of the Ace community recently is that ‘all forms, durations and conditions of Asexuality are ‘Ace The Identity’.

I think that Ace activism should be a thing because when someone lacks sex drive or sexual activity in their life there’s a damaging, unnecessary narrative that tells them they’re damaged, or lame, or somehow lacking, and that’s really toxic. I also think that our hypersexual and exploitative society has inundated people with itself that unless they have experience otherwise, they view ‘sex’ and sexuality through the lens that’s been shown them, and logically recoil from that-- but in some cases cannot distinguish ‘sexuality the human behavior’ from ‘sexuality as it’s depicted socially/in media’.

I also think that the experience you had is an interesting example. Because there are two facets of the working definition (in general) of Ace that are there as the discourse evolved (both manipulatively and honestly) to move away from MOGAI spaces which have been criticized for, among other things, convincing people that ‘Ace The Identity’ included things like trauma, paranoia, depression etc - again IT IS HARMFUL TO IDENTIFY *AS* ONE’S TRAUMA OR MENTAL ILLNESS. Anyway those points are now:

1. All durations (lifetime, changing, fluctuating) of Asexual behavior qualify one as Ace The Identity 

and to make that ‘real’,

2. All persons exhibiting Asexual behavior are Ace The Identity, even in cases where they know the reason has to do with illness or trauma.

and conflictingly,

3. Aceness **does not mean sex repulsion**

This raises multiple questions. How often an interval are we measuring against to determine someone’s aceness as real? At that point, what is the assumed interval/amount of sexual desire assumed of an ‘allo’ (this is not a real thing, literally everyone has different amounts of sex and varying levels of sexual desire, also at different times in life)? You see, when they started to say you could be Ace but still experience attraction ~under certain conditions~ (aka many extended MOGAI identities) that means that both ‘no sexual attraction’ and ‘some sexual attraction’ qualify as Ace. That...kind of makes everyone ace. If Asexuality is a spectrum, then there has to be a bar somewhere where it ticks over to ‘Not Asexual’. Kind of how sexuality is a spectrum, but Cis and Het is where it ticks back over to ‘not LGBT’. So where is that point?

Back to the example though, what I want to point out is that your friend basically suggested that just hearing about sex was oppressive--why would that be, unless she’s not sex repulsed? Being sex repulsed is a symptom of trauma, so by my personal opinion she has PTSD- she’s not Ace The Identity. However, again now the definition has expanded to include Mental Illnesses which is laughable because at that point that’s a Neurodivergence issue, which is a different community (yep, they overlap bc we’re human but again not all marginalized communities is the same!!). All that aside, that would make her argument that you’re not Ace oppressive. 

Before any of the recent discourse back when I was more involved in the community it was stated and agreed on that actually, yes, Aceness can fluctuate like any other identity can fluctuate. So here we are again. It’s Ace if you’r always Ace or if you’re only Ace sometimes and Ace if it’s ‘completely no to sex’ or ‘sometimes if you really like someone’ or even if ‘you’re romantically attracted to the same sex but still have internalized homophobia’.This is just messy and way too broad. I think social justice clout and the goodheartedness of people just trying to be inclusive have muddied what is a co-opting of LGBT dialogue that covers up a total lack of intersectional understanding, a history of general messiness and a LOT of unresolved trauma being covered up as an ID as a coping mechanism, which is very understandable but honestly kind of a huge issue. It truly tricked a lot of people out of exploring their inner issues or past or just figuring themselves out, and continues to do so. I absolutely believe there are people who are just Ace, but I also believe there are a lot of children (teens) and juvenile, not-fully-developed (!! BRAIN DEVELOPMENT DOESN’T EVEN END UNTIL YOU’RE ABOUT 22-25 PEOPLE !!) adults who think that if they don’t feel attraction constantly-like-on-tv and or at all at their age that they’re Asexual which just...no.

[ink-and-stone]

The Train Did Not Arrive

It started as a daydream, an escape from reality, as most terrible ideas tend to originate from. Now, she was waiting at a deserted train station for a train that would take her anywhere far, far away. She couldn't deny to herself that she was scared – terrified, really – but her heart was set. The digital display read that her train would be arriving in ten minutes so she sat down on one of the benches, the platform silent except for the hushed scuffle of the two people that had snuck off the platform and were shaking what appeared to be spray-paint aerosols. Nine minutes. She opened her rucksack and checked and rechecked for her things: a few sets of spare clothes; a burner phone; a non-descript pouch with her money and ID; a notebook; a pen; a mini First-Aid kit. She rubbed her hands together, adding gloves to the growing list of things she regretted not bringing, although, to be fair, she would not have been able to manage the load anyway. She wriggled the numbing toes inside her trainers. She'd forgotten spare socks too.

But there was no turning back now. Her plan was in motion and her resolve relied on her momentum. She could not afford to hesitate, to have second thoughts because she knew it would throw all her planning and care to waste. Not that she had planned much, but still. She'd burn that bridge when she got to it.

The pair of young men, or perhaps they were her own age though she couldn't tell, were laughing to each other. If she listened carefully, she could decipher their words, punctuated by laughter.

"I – can't – bloody bel-ieve you – of all people – you – did that to him, Will!"  

This came from the slightly shorter one, who held onto the bricked wall of the wide tunnel to steady himself in his fit of hysteria.

"Well," the other guy, Will, said, "I darn well did."

Another fit of youthful, masculine laughter. She sighed and leaned back on the backrest, her eyes cast upwards at the light that flickered slightly every once in a while. She held her bag tighter in her arms, an image of vulnerability, and hoped they could not see her.

She glanced back at the digital display and to her alarm, the train that had been due to arrive in ten minutes, not even five minutes ago, had no mention. The list of incoming trains and the minutes until their arrival behold blank columns. Dread, in its most tangible form, sank in her stomach, her breathing began to run irregular and her heartbeat seemed to be improvising its song.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to calm herself but opened them to be alarmed by one of the young men who had been spray-painting the tunnel, the one who wasn't called Will.

"Hey," was what he said, his smile persuading her that he was friendly.

She looked back at him blankly, and dumbly. Later than was the socially acceptable duration of time to pause, she replied, "Hi," meek as a lamb cornered by a wolf.

The smile on the other person's face seemed to slip by a degree as he shifted into awkwardness.

"Just to let you know, if you meant to catch the eleven o'clock train, it never actually comes here. Nobody ever catches it so the driver just skips the whole district--"

She replied with silence.

He still seemed oblivious to the fact that with every word he uttered, the girl before him spiralled further and further. "-- well, that's what me and Will think at least. There could be a whole other reason entirely." At the mention of his friend, he gestured towards the tunnel, where his friend was carefully peeling off the duct tape they had been using as a sort of stencil, or rule. Will gave a little wave to acknowledge his introduction, which meant to the girl that he was listening in to their conversation.

She regained her sense with a deep inhale and let go of her paranoia with an exhale. She swore an oath for good measure and laid her head back on the bench. "Thank you." Was her simple reply, uttered with her eyes still closed in a posture of placid defeat.

She didn't hear him walk away, but a few minutes later a phone rang and the person who wasn't Will answered it. He swore after a few seconds and told Will that he had to go or his mum was going "burn my computer to ash!", in his own words. Will said that it was no problem and wished him luck and when his friend was out of earshot he muttered something about how convenient it was for Jack to leave just as they were meant to pack.

Indeed, there was a lot of stuff that Will now had to carry by himself.

He tidied up methodically and systematically so he'd be able to carry the cool box as well as the carrier bags overflowing with equipment or with snacks, and the folding step-ladder. Surely, he thought to himself, Jack could have dropped off at least one bag on his way home. He gave Jack the benefit of the doubt though, realising that Jack had probably been too distracted by his mother's discovery of his sneaking out to remember that this was far too much for Will to carry alone. This was Will's way – always giving the benefit of the doubt and making excuses for others. The epitome of modern-day sainthood, many thought of him. This juxtaposed starkly with what many others thought of him: a nuisance, a devil and the list went on. Really, he was both, and the variant descriptions of him only seemed so contradictory to each other because that was simply how real-life people were. Only in books – bad books– could people so two-dimensionally written exist, with simple motives, unvarying reactions and predictable decisions. Yet, it was difficult to see Will as anything but a character out of a book, with his unjustified kindness and, still, the impatience in his step that, almost audibly, demanded "Adventure!". Will was a character not even his enemies could get enough of, who was friendly with everyone (provided they did not have the authority nor the inclination to punish his misdeeds) but only friends with a few.

He had figured out a way to carry all of his belongings and this was how: the step-ladder was hung on his shoulder, his arm peeking through the hole; a bag was balanced atop the cool box, which he held in the hand opposite the one connected to his ladder-shoulder and the final carrier bag was carried in his other hand, repeatedly clanging against the steel of the ladder. He only noticed the girl was still seated on the bench when his clamorous ongoing exit stirred her from her rest and she sat up in confusion.

Will stopped in surprise as well and felt suddenly self-conscious. Then, he felt ashamed of himself for wasting his time feeling that when this girl was obviously having a far more dreadful night. He assessed her quickly, while she assessed him.

"You're running away, then?" Will asked.

Clearly, the girl had made a far less thorough assessment of him as her eyebrows shot up in astonishment.

She nodded mutely and then again, with a bit confidence, when Will gave her an amiable smile.

"Wicked." He remarked, with genuine appreciation, "I'm Will."

The girl considered all that she knew of him, that is to say, nothing.

"I'm May."

This, for some reason, perplexed Will a very good deal, which in turn, puzzled the girl, whose name was May. "What?" She said uneasily.

"But why not April? Or June? Or November?" Will asked.

Fear of being murdered and thrown in a bush by this stranger be damned – May was very much offended by this reaction, still half-confused as she was. "November? What's wrong with May?"

He looked at her as if she was sprouting horns from her forehead.

"Be – because! May's – it's exam season for crying out loud!" He sputtered indignantly.

This response delighted May and she welcomed the distraction Will brought from her current plight, so she laughed at his absurd reply. Then she told him that his reply was absurd, to which they had a heated debate about whether or not November was a good name – or even a name in the first place. Will had put his stuff down, save for the step-ladder, and his hands gestured verbosely with his argument.

Once the topic had been thoroughly exhausted, a pause ensued.

After the ensued pause, Will said, "If you don't have a place to go, there's a spare room in my house."

This, needless to say, triggered May's alarm bells. She wasn't going to go with him to his bloody house because they'd had a good laugh about her name.

Will realised the implications of his forwardness immediately and rushed to assure her of his dignity, "It's literally across the road. You can scream bloody murder if I try to kill you."

May wasn't sure how any of that was supposed to be reassuring, but found that his need to clear his name for her gave her some courage to reply back, "Why do you even want me to come...?"

"Because..." Will shifted to his other foot. And then he gave a shrug, which in itself was a rubbish answer. "I like to have people over – it's boring not to. Anyway, it's not like there's nobody else there – my brother's home too."

These were all rubbish answers but stripped of context and instincts of self-preservation, they were also humorous, and May, after such a dreadful day, was seeing the amusing side of his answer. She didn't laugh but she couldn't hide that she wanted to laugh at his reply.

Will, ever the giver of the benefit of doubt, took her smile as a sign of trust, relaxed a bit. "My brother's only six anyway, if you were worried about that." He knew the power baby brothers had in winning hearts and said this part only to secure her trust.

Unfortunately, May was horrified, "And you left him alone at home!"

"Yes, but –"

"Oh my God! Will!"

"– he's fast asleep and if he wakes up he can just call me and I come home!"

May still looked appalled. "That's a rubbish excuse!"

"No, really, he's fine with it –"

"Oh my God!"

She had stood up and now took hold of the carrier bag atop the cool box. Will let her, glad to be relieved of its burden and victorious as May started to walk with him. She reached for the cool box, but Will ushered her away from taking anything else – he could owe it to her to at least be this chivalrous. He hadn't the faintest clue why she was agreeing to come with him, but the voice in his head was whispering, "Adventure-Adventure-Adventure", again and again and again.

"You do realise I can't pay you for this, right?" She said uneasily when they had arrived at the cramped driveway in front of Will's house.

"God – I'm not asking you to, May. That would be terrifically rude!"

May only thought that it would be terrifically logical to charge a night's rent, but had no reason to tempt him to change his mind. She followed as he opened a side door and then the door to a shed.  

He stopped unexpectedly inside the shed, as if he'd forgotten something.

"You're not going to steal anything are you?"

It was as if the realisation that he had invited a complete stranger into his home had just dawned on him.

"What if you're a serial killer?"

May assumed the question was rhetorical but, amused again by the workings of Will's brains and the way he said everything that he did say in the funniest, most absurd way possible. "You can scream bloody murder if I try to kill you."

This was a good answer, because Will seemed to relax. "Please don't. And please try not to steal. I'll tell the police."

"You can't tell the police if you're dead."

"My brother can."

This was a sort of trap because Will was looking at May expectantly. But there was no way she was going to say, even as a joke, that she'd kill his little brother.

"I guess I'd get arrested then."

This was another good answer.

He nodded at her once, and from then was their friendship sealed.

[barchie-is-endgame]

The True Gift

Betty and Jughead ’s relationship is on the rocks and while Betty has feelings for someone else and has been thinking about ending the relationship, Jughead wants to salvage it. So he goes to Archie for help in order to come up with ideas for a Valentines week worth of gifts for Betty but Archie has feelings for Betty, though because he thinks that she’s happy with Jughead and that this will make her happy, he pushes those feelings aside and helps Jughead. So all the gifts are Archie’s ideas but Betty figures that out and in the end Betty confronts Archie and they share a very special moment and get together.

Warning: Very Long fic. 14.5k words. 

Betty and Jughead sat in a booth at Pop’s diner. Betty absentmindedly played with the straw in her milkshake, stirring the liquid over and over again, taking the occasional sip. She sighed and rested her chin on her hand. Jughead cringed, he could physically feel betty pulling away from him. This was the first time in almost two weeks that he’d been in the same room as Betty. Stuck at the Whyte Wyrm with serpent duties, Jughead had been neglecting his schoolwork whilst it seemed Betty had thrown herself into hers. Whenever Jughead would ring to try and speak to her, she would always be stuck at the library unable to talk, even her texts were short and to the point, they were almost too painful for Jughead to read. He’d invited Betty out for a meal with the hopes of having a romantic evening filled with meaningful conversation, instead, the night had just been filled with one-word answers and awkward silences. 

Betty’s phone dinged, reverberating within the silence that surrounded them, picking it up from the table she checked the message before sliding the phone into her jacket pocket. “That’s my mom, she wants me home.” Pushing her milkshake away from her, she slid out of the booth. “I should go.” Jughead went to stand up. “I’ll give you a ride home.” He offered, he’d rode his bike here, it wasn’t that long ago that Betty would have Jughead pick her up just to ride around the side roads of Riverdale, he was hoping to do the same tonight. “No it’s ok, I drove my mom’s car here. Well, I’ll call you later.” She bent down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I love you.” Jughead said as she turned to walk away. “You too, Jug.” Was the only reply he got, she didn’t even turn around. Jughead watched her retreating form from the window of Pop’s, watching her walk away was like a steel knife to his heart. He waited for the brake lights to fade from view before throwing some money on the table and making his way home.

Parking his bike at the side of the trailer jughead tore his helmet from his head as he made his way inside, throwing the helmet on the sofa a bit harder than he needed to, he sighed. Why was this so hard, it had always been so easy between him and Betty, they never even had to try, now he worried he was losing her and he didn’t know what to do. Hearing a creak behind him, Jughead turned around spotting his dad walking into the kitchen. “Jug, Hey, I uh, thought you had a date with Betty tonight.” FP said as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah I did, she had to leave though, her mom…” Jughead trailed off as he caught sight of Alice walking out behind his dad. “…wanted her home.” He continued as realisation dawned, Betty had lied to him. “I didn’t ask her to go home, are sure she didn’t mean Polly?” Alice said trying to save the awkward situation. “She’s at home with the twins, maybe she needed some help.” “Yeah, it was probably that. I’m heading out, don’t wait up.” He called out over his shoulder slamming the trailer door shut behind him. Pulling his phone out he tried Betty’s cell, it rang out with her voicemail eventually picking up. Slamming it back into his pocket Jughead starting walking in the direction of the Whyte Wyrm, he wasn’t much of a drinker but he could really do with a stiff drink right now.

                                      ———————————————

Betty held the phone in her hand as she stared at the caller ID. She should really answer it yet she just couldn’t muster the energy from within her to speak to Jughead. Letting the call go to voicemail Betty tossed the phone towards the end of the bed before throwing herself backwards, picking up a pillow she pressed it over her face and released a pent-up, frustrated scream into the pillow. “Want to talk about it?” Removing the pillow from her head Betty spotted Archie leaning against the door frame. “I really don’t.” Betty replied as she tossed the pillow to one side and moved to sit up. “How long have you been stood there?” “Not that long, Polly let me in. That sounded like a very stressful scream, we can work on our English assignment tomorrow if you’re not feeling up to it.” “No, no, it’s fine, I got it out of my system.” Betty tried to reassure him with a weak smile. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it.” Archie offered again. Betty shook her head. “No, not right now, and certainly not with you.” “Ouch.” Archie said, a look of hurt coming over his face. “Shit Archie, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it like that, that sounded wrong.” Throwing herself back down on the bed she threw her arm over her eyes. “I think I need to scream into that pillow again.” Betty sounded so defeated. “It’s me and Jughead and it’s weird to talk about with you, I don’t want to drag you into our drama, you’re friends to the both of us.” Betty kept her eyes under her arm as she said this, Archie was the last person she wanted to be talking relationships with. “Are you two fighting.” Archie asked moving from his spot by the door and sitting on the chair by her dresser. “Ha,” Betty laughed sarcastically, moving to sit up once again “Think you have to actually see each other to be able to have an argument.” Archie opened his mouth to say something but Betty cut him off before he could speak. “Look, Archie I appreciate you trying to help but I meant what I said, it’s too weird talking about this stuff with you, now grab the English assignment, it’s in the third drawer in the dresser.” Betty told him. For the rest of the night they worked on their English assignment, Jughead’s name lingered on the edges of the conversation but Archie chose to respect Betty’s wishes and didn’t bring his name up once, not even when Betty’s phone rang, Jughead’s name flashing across her screen, they both simply stared at it until the ringtone faded out leaving a deafening silence in its wake. Archie had left not too long after that, Betty couldn’t help but feel like she had chased him from the room, he was probably desperate to help but too nice to disrespect Betty’s wishes. Pushing her books to the side, Betty picked up her phone and typed out a quick message to Jughead, it was easier to text him, she could keep it short and to the point, she didn’t have to worry about the awkward small talk that seemed to serve as most of their conversation these days. Sorry I missed your calls, I fell asleep. Speak to you tomorrow. Yet another blatant lie. Betty felt guilty, why was she leading him on, surely it would be better for both of them to end it, Betty just wasn’t happy anymore and it was unfair to Jughead to keep stringing him along, he obviously still cared for her deeply. Betty cared enough about Jughead to know it wasn’t fair to him, he should be able to be with someone who could love him back, Betty just didn’t love him like she used to.

                                     ——————————————-

Jughead woke to the smell of vomit and a pounding head, looking around his room he could see he’d made it home but he couldn’t have been in a fit state, he’d tried to vomit in his trashcan at least, he may have missed it but the incentive had been there. “Jughead, door.” He heard his father shout. Groaning he rolled out of the bed, at least he was still in last nights clothes so he didn’t need to throw anything on. Stumbling into the kitchen he caught a glimpse of fiery red hair seated on his sofa, but his first priority was not his guest, he needed liquid and he needed it fast, his lips were in danger of becoming stuck together, he found it odd that given the amount of liquid he’d consumed the night before, that his body could still be screaming out for more. After filling a glass with water from the tap he walked into the living room, throwing himself down on the sofa. “I’d say you look like crap, but that would be an insult to crap.” Archie said as he looked Jughead up and down. “Good morning to you too, Archie.” Jughead mumbled before taking a deep drink of water, it sat uncomfortably heavy on his stomach. “Jesus Jug, you smell like a god damn brewery, how much did you drink last night?” “Did you just come here to insult me, or was there a legitimate reason for your morning visit.” Jughead moaned, he really was not in the mood for whatever this was. “First of all, it’s after lunch, and I just wanted to come to see you, it’s been a while since we hung out.” “Well, you chose one hell of a day to play the role of besties. I know, I’ll let you hold my hair back while I vomit, friends do that don’t they.” “I’m serious Jug, go shower and put some clean clothes on. We can load you up with some coffee from Pop’s.” “Archie I am really not in the mood for this today, as you can see, I’ve got a killer hangover to nurse.” “Come on, some fresh air will do you good. Go get dressed.” Sighing Jughead moved to stand up from the sofa. “You’re not gonna give up on this are you?” “Nope,” Archie grinned. “I’ve got no plans for the whole day, which means I can stay and bug you for as long as I need. Might as well give in Jug.” With a final groan, Jughead shuffled his way into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly to ensure Archie was aware he was not happy with this.

Sitting at Pop’s sipping coffee, Jughead had to admit he did feel better, he wouldn’t admit it to Archie though, he’d rather walk on broken glass than received one of Archie’s ‘I told you so’ smirks. As Jughead nibbled on a fry he looked up at Archie, he’d been talking, possibly for some time, but Jughead hadn’t heard a word. “You didn’t hear a word of that, did you?” Archie said as though he’d just read Jughead’s mind. “I could lie and avoid hurting your feelings, but that’s just not who I am, so no Archie, I didn’t hear one word.” Rolling his eyes Archie tried again. “I said, how are you and Betty? I haven’t seen you two together in a while.”  Jughead internally flinched, he didn’t really know the answer himself. “Good, I think. She’s been busy with school and I’ve been busy with, you know, the serpents.” It was as honest as he could give, he thought they were fine but last nights date had been a disaster, he couldn’t even say they were fighting, you have to talk to each other to fight and Betty was now even ignoring his calls. “Ah yes, the serpents, hows that going?” Archie asked, Jughead could see that he wasn’t really interested, Archie hated the serpents and everything they stood for, but at least he was trying. “Good, good, I mean they practically run themselves, I just have to sort disputes out from time to time, make sure everyone’s staying above the law, that kind of thing.” Archie nodded as he half understood what Jughead was saying. “How are you and Veronica? Are you on speaking terms yet?” Jughead asked. “No, but we’ve moved on from ignoring each other to saying a quick hello in passing, so I guess that’s some improvement.” Archie replied before taking a sip of his coffee. It must be hard for Archie, Jughead thought to himself, but unfortunately their relationship was doomed from the moment Hiram Lodge turned against Archie, you couldn’t possibly stay with someone who’s father hated you so much that he had you framed for murder. No one could prove it of course, just as no one could prove Archie had murdered that hick but he was still tainted from the accusations, whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty. Archie had taken it like a champ though, it must have infuriated Hiram, nothing gets to Archie unless it involves family and close friends. “Yeah, I suppose it is,” Jughead replied to Archie, “you seem to be talking more than me and Betty.” Jughead said as he looked down at his empty cup. “Want to talk about it?” Archie offered up, Jughead looked up at him and sighed. He normally wasn’t the type to go and ask for help from friends, he’d prefer to suffer in silence and wait for the issue to resolve itself, but after last night, the fear of losing Betty was becoming all too real and he’d do anything to stop that happening. “Me and Betty, we’re going through a bit of a rough patch, she won’t even speak to me Archie, she’s ignoring my calls, she even lied to my face last night to get out of our date, I don’t know what’s going on, she’s pulling away and I’m powerless to stop it.” Jughead found that once he started the words just poured out of him, he must sound so pathetic. “Have you tried speaking to her, asking her what’s wrong?” Archie asked, he was looking at Jughead with such pity, Jughead hated that. “She won’t speak to me Archie, she won’t even give me a chance to ask her what’s wrong.” “Betty can be pretty stubborn when she wants,” Archie offered up. “She’s been through a lot, with her dad and everything that’s followed, she’s probably just trying to work through it.” “But I could help, she doesn’t have to go through this alone, has she spoken to you about any of this?” “Erm no, we don’t really see much of each other outside of school.” Jughead sighed. He needed help, maybe his best friend would be willing to give a helping hand. “What can I do Archie, I can’t lose her.”

                                        ——————————————-

Archie watched his friend as he sat across from him in the booth, he’d never seen Jughead so down. He certainly didn’t look like the leader of a dangerous gang, he looked like a broken man about to lose the best thing in his life. Archie could relate to what Jughead was going through, sort of, and not because of Veronica, no, because of Betty. Archie was in love with his best friend. He couldn’t act on his feelings though, not only because she was with Jughead but because he’d already made the terrible mistake of turning Betty down, he’d been an idiot. Archie realised his feelings for Betty were more than that of friends when she’d kissed him the night they chased the black hood. The kiss had been so sweet yet it had stirred something deep inside Archie, something he’d never felt before, not even with Veronica. He’d tried to push his feelings aside, but the longer they lingered the stronger they got. It’s why ending things with Veronica had been so easy, he knew they weren’t meant to be together.  But Archie wasn’t heartless, he could never be that person who ruined someone else relationship for his own gain, that’s why he’d chose to lie to Jug about seeing Betty last night, it would look pretty bad if Betty lied to get out of her date and then spent the evening with Archie. “You really need to speak to her jug, she’s trying to deal with this on her own and she’ll push you away, it’s what she does, she too damn proud.” Archie found himself thinking back to how Betty looked when the black hood was tormenting her, she had looked so broken, Archie had been furious that she’d been going through that alone, too stubborn to ask for help. “How? I can’t even get her to stay in the same room as me.” “Well it’s valentines next weekend, why don’t you arrange to do something, show her how much you care.” “I dunno, I wouldn’t even know where to begin, I’m not really the most romantic person.” Archie laughed, Jughead was right, Archie couldn’t remember seeing Jughead do anything remotely romantic in the time he and Betty had been together. “Will you help me?” Jughead asked pulling Archie from his thoughts. “What? I don’t know how..” “Please Archie, you’re into all that romantic, sappy stuff, you must have some ideas floating around that head of yours.” Archie hesitated, he could just about get away without it acting on his feelings, could he really arrange romantic moments for Betty to enjoy with another.

                                 ————————————————

Betty ambled towards the kitchen, she was in dire need of some caffeine, she had spent most of the night tossing and turning. “Good afternoon Betty, nice of you to grace us with your presence.” Polly mocked from the kitchen table. Scowling in her direction Betty reached for the coffee pot. “Late night?” Polly questioned, wiggling her eyebrows with suggestion. “What? No Polly, gross.” Betty shouted. “Hey, I was just checking,” Polly added with a laugh. “You and Archie seem to be spending a lot of time together recently, I just assumed.” “We’re just friends Polly, always have been, plus I’m with Jughead.” Betty moved around the table and took a seat opposite Polly. “I haven’t seen him in a while, you two okay?” “Yeah fine.” Betty replied a little too quickly, why was everyone so concerned about her and Jug recently. “Sounds convincing.” “What do you want me to say Polly. It’s complicated.” “It’s only complicated if you make it complicated.” Polly responded. “I’m sorry, when did you become a couples counsellor.” Betty said as she rolled her eyes. “I just see things, like last night, for instance, you went on a date with Jug yet you were back home by ten and Archie shows up ten minutes later.” Polly wore a very suggestive look on her face. “Talk to me Betty.” Polly sang. Sighing Betty decided to offload onto Polly, it couldn’t hurt to speak to someone. “I’m not sure what’s wrong, it’s just recently, I don’t look forward to spending time with Jug, our conversations feel forced, it never use to be this hard between us, we shouldn’t have to try this hard.” “Betty, relationships aren’t supposed to be easy, it can’t always be like it is the beginning, where everything’s still exciting and new, you have to work at relationships to try and make them work.” “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” “You’re not trying Betty, not if you’re running out on him whenever you get some alone time. Don’t give up yet Betty, I’ve seen how happy he’s made you. Give it time and put in a little work, you’ll get through this.” “I suppose,” Betty conceded with a sigh. “When did you get so wise anyway.” “Must come with motherhood, push out a kid and you gain infinite knowledge.” Polly said with a giggle.” “You’re a loser.” Betty said laughing. Walking over to the sink, she rinsed her cup and walked back up to her bedroom. Did she really want to work things out with Jughead, her head was all over the place recently, the only thing that seemed to keep her sane was her late-night conversations with Archie, it was just mindless chatter between two good friends, so why did Betty feel like she was cheating on Jughead every time she invited Archie over.

                                ——————————————————

Jughead sat at the bar in the Whyte Wyrm, he held his phone in his hands as though it were a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any moment. Right about now Betty should be receiving the first of her gifts. With valentines being seven days away Archie had come up with the idea of seven days of gifts, starting with a bouquet of Betty’s favourite flowers, pale pink peonies, delivered to her home. Jughead had been hesitant at first, he was never one for romantic gestures but according to Archie, Betty was. Jughead hoped this would work. The phone vibrated in his hand, startling him, he almost dropped the phone in his eagerness to answer it. “Hello.” He answered as casually as he could, he didn’t want Betty to know he’d been anxiously waiting for her call. “Hey Jug,” Betty breathed down the phone, Jughead’s heart skipped a beat, he couldn’t remember the last time Betty had been the one to call him first, surely this was a good sign. “I got your flowers, they’re beautiful, thank you.” Jughead relaxed for the first time since his conversation with Archie. “I’m glad you like them.” “They’re my favourite flowers, erm, are you busy right now? I was going to grab some food from Pop’s, do you maybe want to join me?” “Yes, I mean, yeah if you want me too.” Agreeing to meet at Pop’s in half an hour they both hung up and Jughead smiled to himself, it felt like he was finally back on the right track.

                            —————————————————

Betty arrived at Pop’s before Jughead, she took a seat at a booth away from the window, she didn’t want to be distracted tonight, she was following Polly’s advice and at least trying tonight. Jughead arrived not long after Betty, taking a seat opposite her she smiled at him. “Have you eaten yet? We didn’t really have anything in at home and I’m starving.” Betty rambled off. She felt nervous which was ridiculous, it was just Jughead. “You know me, I’m always ready to eat.” Betty laughed and she found it was a genuine laugh, maybe this wasn’t the end for them. After a late lunch of burgers, fries and milkshakes Betty and Jughead fell into conversation about school. “Are you going to finish your classes?” Betty asked, she was concerned that he was becoming too wrapped up in the serpents, he couldn’t see that his education was important as well. “I’m not sure, the serpents take up so much of my time, I just can’t see the point in a high school education when I’ve got the security of serpents.” “Jughead, getting an education is important, you can’t predict what’s going to happen in the future. Even just a high school diploma can open so many doors.” “I just don’t see how I’ll have time to do it.” Jughead sighed, Betty could sense he didn’t really want to talk about this. “You make time Jug, if it’s important enough you’ll make the best effort you can, your dad can’t be happy with you skipping school.” “He’s not happy about it but he understands. It’s my choice and I feel like my time could be better spent with the serpents.” “Just think about it jug,” Betty reached across the table and grabbed hold of Jughead’s hand. “I’d hate to see you throw away your future without properly thinking it through.” Leaning back she smiled. “In the meantime, I’ll speak to some teachers and grab some work for you. We could work together on them if you need to.” Jughead smiled at her. “Thank you Betty.” “Now speaking of schoolwork, I have an assignment that needs finishing before tomorrow so I should get back.” Betty rose from the booth, placing a couple of bills down on the table. “Yeah sure, do you want me to walk you back?” Jughead offered. Betty shook her head. “No, I borrowed the car again, how come you didn’t ride your bike here?” Betty asked when she realised he’d said walk. “Oh, I erm, had a few to drink last night. Didn’t want to risk it.” Betty was slightly shocked, Jughead hardly ever drank, and never enough that he had to worry about driving the next day. “Sensible. Do you want me to take you home then?” She asked Jughead shook his head. “No it’s fine, it’s not too far to walk, thanks anyway.” “Ok then, well I’ll call you later?” Betty said. Jughead nodded and Betty leaned in, placing a kiss on his lips, she let her lips linger slightly and she felt Jughead’s hand gently touch her cheek. She kept her lips there whilst she waited to feel that spark, the same spark she used to feel whenever they kissed, it just wasn’t there anymore. Pulling back Betty smiled down at Jughead. “Goodbye Jug.” She turned and walked out of the diner leaving Jughead sat in the booth.

                                —————————————————

Archie sat in the garage of his home, he’d been trying to come up with some new songs but kept hitting a blank wall, his fingers just wouldn’t cooperate and whenever he tried to play a few simple cords, it sounded like a garbled mess. Picking up his phone from the workbench Archie saw he had a missed call from Betty. Placing his guitar on its stand he hit redial. Betty picked up on the second ring. “Hey Betty, did you try ringing?” “Yeah, I did. I’m working on the English assignment, have you finished yours yet?” Archie laughed. “Betty am sure you already know the answer to that.” “You do know it’s due in tomorrow don’t you?” Betty said, Archie could hear the condescending tone in her voice “Yes Betty I do know that, but we don’t have English until after lunch, that gives me all morning to work on it,” He could hear Betty sigh down the phone. “Betty, all my best work is produced when I’m under pressure, think of me as a lump of coal, put enough pressure on me and I’ll produce a diamond.” Betty laughed “That’s the biggest pile of crap I’ve ever heard. Well, I’m at home and willing to help you work on it if you’d like to come over again.” Archie glanced around the garage, he wasn’t going to be getting anything done in here, he’d hit a mental block, maybe a break would help, even if it was homework. “Sure I’ll be over in five.” After grabbing his school bag Archie walked next door, letting himself in he found Betty at the kitchen table surrounded by books. Throwing his bag down Archie took a seat opposite Betty. “Have you got the stuff we worked on last night?” Betty asked “It should be in my bag, I haven’t touched it since then.” Betty rolled her eyes. “Of course you haven’t. How do you expect to graduate if you don’t do your work?” Betty questioned him whilst tipping the contents of his bag onto the table. “I plan on getting a sports scholarship for college, I prefer brawn to books.” “You still need a C average for a scholarship.” Betty interjected. “Ah, but that’s what I have you for Betty, you’ll never let me fail, will you?” Archie jokingly pouted towards Betty. “Shut up.” She said tossing a pencil at his face. “Where’s your copy of To Kill a Mockingbird?” Betty questioned him. Archie helped Betty root through the pile of books, coming up empty he shrugged his shoulders. “I must have left it here last night, want me to go and check your room?” Betty shook her head. “No it’s fine, just use mine, I’ve marked out all the important points you can use.” Archie quickly thumbed through the book. “Why’ve you written all over the pages?” Archie questioned after seeing all the little notes and highlighted sections. “Because that’s what you’re supposed to be doing in lessons Archie, taking notes.” Betty huffed, exasperated. After working for almost an hour Archie threw his pen down frustrated. “I’m pretty sure none of this makes any sense.” Archie sighed. “Give it here,” Betty said reaching out for his paper. “I’m sure it’s just fine.” Archie watched as she read through his work. English was not one of his strong suits, he knew how to read and write, he didn’t see the point in breaking down a novel written years ago, how was that going to help him at all once he left school. “This is good Archie, there’s just a couple of areas where you need to explain the quotes you’ve used but other than that it’s great.” “I’ll do that later, my brain can’t take anymore, plus I’m starving, do you have any food in.” Archie asked as he rose from his seat ready to raid the cupboards. “There’s not much edible food in, Polly’s all about organic food at the minute, she doesn’t want the twins eating any artificial.” Archie pulled his face as he assessed the food in the fridge. It was all green and healthy. “Gross. Aren’t you starving?” Archie asked. “No, I had dinner with Jughead at Pop’s earlier.” Betty replied as she started to tidy the books from the table. “Oh, have you two made up now then?” Archie asked as casually as he could, he knew that Jughead had arranged for some flowers to be delivered, it must have worked if she’d gone to lunch with him. “I never said we were fighting Archie.” Betty said raising her eyebrow at him. “I know, but you were pretty upset yesterday.” “I was, but we weren’t fighting, like I said, it was complicated.” “Okay then,” Archie said deciding to drop it. “Well no offence but your food sucks, I’m gonna go home and eat some proper food. Thanks for helping with the homework.” Archie scooped all his books into his bag and placed it on his shoulder. “Do you want to walk to school together tomorrow?” Archie asked, they had fallen back into the routine of walking to and from school since he’d broken up with Veronica and Jughead was scarcely at school anymore. “Yeah sure, I’ll meet you out front like usual.” Betty replied with a smile. “Okay well, I’ll see you in the morning. Bye Betty.” Archie left Betty’s house and walked back to his, he couldn’t help but admit how much he enjoyed spending time with Betty, she’s the only person he would willingly do homework for.

                            ———————————————————

At school the next day Betty felt a little off, her stomach seemed to be doing somersaults and she felt anxious, like something big was about to happen. Trying to shake it off she put the queasy stomach down to the odd-looking eggplant lasagna Polly had cooked up last night. Betty decided to pass on lunch and instead sat in the common room by herself, putting the finishing touches on her English essay. As the bell sounded to indicate the end of lunch Betty made her way to her locker to stash some of her books before the lesson. Opening the locker Betty was shocked to find a gift-wrapped box sitting in her locker, glancing around Betty reached into her locker and pulled out the box, gently lifting the lid she peeked inside. Lay on a bed of tissue paper was a pale pink leather bounded journal with a matching writing pen, smiling to herself Betty removed the book from the box, turning it over in her hands she thumbed through the pages, stopping on the the first page she noticed that someone had already written in it, on the very first page was a quote that read Success is not final, Failure is not fatal: It is the courage to continue that counts. Never give up on your dreams Betty. Smiling even wider Betty returned the book to its box, closing her locker she made her way towards her English class. Standing outside the room she pulled her phone out to send a quick text. Thank you for the gift, it was very thoughtful. I love it. X The writing had very clearly been Jughead’s handwriting yet the gesture was very unlike him, she found herself wondering what made him chose a notebook and that particular quote, and how did he get the gift into her locker, it definitely wasn’t in there this morning. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t see that Archie had come to a stop right in front of her. “Hey, earth to Betty, are you going to class?” Jumping slightly Betty slammed phone into her pocket. “Oh, yeah. Sorry” Betty turned and made her way into class with Archie following close behind. “Everything okay?” Betty made her way towards the back of the class, to her and Archie’s usual seats. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Hey, have you been in my locker today?” Archie was the only other person in the school who knew Betty’s locker combination, maybe he snuck the present in for Jughead. “No, why do you ask?” Betty found herself staring at him as he answered, it shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did but after all the surprises with the black hood, Betty was nervous about receiving gifts. Shrugging it off Betty decided to just let it go. “No reason.” The teacher chose that moment to silence the students and start his lesson. Less than halfway through the lesson Betty was struggling, her forehead felt clammy and she was having a hard time concentrating, the words seemed to be dancing on the page. Looking up Betty tried to read what was written on the board but the words refused to come into focus, the dizzying sensation was causing Betty’s stomach to flip, bringing her hand up to her mouth Betty fought the urge to vomit. “Betty are you okay?” Betty heard Archie ask yet he sounded like he was underwater, without turning to look at him Betty shook her head, the urge to vomit was getting stronger and Betty quickly rose to her feet. Without bothering to ask for a hall pass Betty made a beeline straight from the room. Bursting into the hallway Betty stumbled down the corridor, wave after wave of nausea slammed into her, the vertigo sensation was certainly not helping things. Betty leaned against one of the walls lining the corridor, bracing her back on the wall she slowly slid down, she needed to wait for this dizziness to pass, she couldn’t think straight. Sliding further down Betty’s head came to rest on the concrete floor, she groaned as the coolness of the flooring came into contact with her red hot cheek. Squeezing her eyes shut she waited for the dizziness to pass. “Betty, shit Betty!” Betty heard Archie yelling her name, he sounded so far away again. She felt as he lifted her arm up and fingers probed her wrist, my god, was he checking her pulse? Surely she didn’t look that bad, did she? “Betty, can you hear me?” Betty groaned in response, she heard Archie sigh. “Archie, I don’t feel so good.” “No shit Betty, you look dead. Come on let’s get you to the nurse.” Archie lifted Betty’s arm as if to try and help her to her feet. Betty groaned louder this time. “No, don’t, if you move me, I’ll throw up.” Betty kept her eyes screwed shut. “You can’t stay here Betty.” “Sure I can, the floor is nice and cool and I’m not in the way.” “Come on, you need to go home.” Before Betty could protest she felt the floor disappear from beneath her as Archie scooped her up into his arms. The sudden movement triggered a wave of vertigo which triggered another wave of nausea. Betty buried her face into Archie’s chest and fought the urge to vomit all down him.

                             —————————————————-

The nurse took one look at Betty and immediately told her she needed to go home, Archie couldn’t blame her, he’d panicked when he’d found her lying in the corridor, she had looked dead, for a brief moment Archie had thought the worst. After Alice had failed to answer her phone Archie had phoned his dad to come and pick them up. His dad hadn’t taken much persuading to allow Archie to escort them home, Fred had looked nervously at Betty, like she might drop dead at any second. Archie glanced at over at Betty, she had her head leaning against the window of the car, Archie had never seen anyone actually look a shade of green. “How are you feeling Betty?” Archie checked. All he received was a groan in response. “If you are going to be sick, please roll down the window, try not to do it in the car.” Archie’s dad said whilst staring at Betty through the rearview mirror. “Dad!” Archie hissed at him.   “I’m okay.” Betty mumbled. Pulling up outside their homes Archie raced round to help Betty out of the car. “Do you think you can walk?” Archie asked, Betty nodded unconvincingly. Archie grabbed her arm as she rose shakily to her feet. “I can carry you if you want.” Betty shook her head but as she took a step forward her legs hardly moved and she lurched forward, heading face first towards the floor, grabbing her before she could hit the floor Archie pulled her upright and scooped her up bridal style. “Have you got her Archie?” Fred checked, Archie nodded as he adjusted Betty in his arms. “I’m going to try Alice again, I think she needs to see a doctor.” Fred disappeared up the drive as Archie made his way up the stairs to Betty’s house. After juggling Betty and his keys, Archie managed to open the front door and carry Betty upstairs to lay her on her bed, removing her shoes he covered her with a light blanket before reaching up to gently touch her forehead, he could feel the heat radiating off her before his hand made contact. “Betty, I’m going to get you some water and maybe some Tylenol, you need to bring that fever down.” Betty made no acknowledgement that she’d heard him. Rooting through the medicine cabinet in the main bathroom, he found some Tylenol and filled a tumbler with water. Walking back into Betty’s room he found her bed empty, his heart skipped a beat as he worried where Betty might have gone but a split second later he heard the sound of heaving coming from her bathroom. “Betty, are you okay?” Archie received no response, all he could hear was the telltale sign of vomiting. Hovering near the door Archie was at a loss of what to do. Upon hearing the sound of Betty crying he threw all caution to the wind and dashed into the bathroom. The sight that greeted him broke his heart. Betty was hunched over the toilet bowl, her cheek rested on the side of the toilet seat as she lay there crying, he watched as Betty reached up with a very shaky hand and flushed the toilet, it looked like it had used all of Betty’s energy to do so as her arm flopped back to the floor with a slap. “Oh Betty.” Archie said, he walked over to the sink and dampened a washcloth with cool water, walking over to Betty he placed the wash cloth gently on her forehead. “Go away.” Betty tried to protest, she lifted her arm as if to try and push him away but she was too weak to do so. “I’m disgusting.” Betty moaned. “Don’t be daft Betty. You’re still gorgeous even when you’re vomiting.” Betty let out a small laugh before groaning once again. After letting Betty sit by the toilet for a few more minutes Archie felt confident enough that she had finished vomiting, ignoring her protests that she could walk by herself, Archie carried her back to bed. “Do you think you could stomach some painkillers? You’re very hot.” Archie said as he tucked her in once again. “Why thank you, Archie.” Betty giggled slightly. “Not what I meant Betty.” Archie said with a roll of his eyes. “Your fever is obviously making you delirious.” Archie watched as Betty reached out and carefully swallowed two Tylenol, drinking as little water as possible. “I’m going to see if my dad managed to get in touch with your mum, do you need me to get you anything?” Betty shook her head without opening her eyes. Archie found his dad sat in Betty’s living room, he informed Archie that Betty’s mother was stuck in a meeting out of town, she wanted to know if they could keep an eye on Betty until she could get home, unfortunately, he had to get back to work so Archie volunteered to look after Betty. His dad left with instructions on what to do if Betty got any worse, he seemed pretty confident it was just a bad case of stomach flu but wanted Archie to be cautious. Walking back into Betty’s room he found her bed empty once again, checking in the bathroom he found Betty curled up on the floor next the toilet, wrapped in a blanket. “Do you want to get back in bed?” Archie asked, kneeling down beside her he moved some of the hair from her face, parts of her hair had stuck to her forehead with sweat. “No, I want to stay near the toilet.” Betty groaned, Archie grabbed another washcloth and once again dabbed Betty’s forehead. Filling a glass with water he placed it besides Betty before leaning back against the bathtub. “You don’t have to stay Archie, I’ll be fine.” “I don’t mind.” Archie said honestly, he would do anything for Betty, even if that meant sitting in a bathroom that reeked of vomit. “This is getting me out of school remember.” Archie heard nothing from Betty and looking over Archie could see she had fallen asleep, standing up from the floor Archie stretched and made his way into Betty’s room. As he sat down on Betty’s bed his eyes glanced around her room before coming to land on a bunch of flowers on Betty’s dresser. Archie had given Jughead a list of gifts that Betty might like including her favourite flowers. Archie leapt up from the bed, he’d completely forgotten about Jughead, maybe he should ring him, he is, after all, Betty’s boyfriend, he��d probably want to be the one taking care of her. Pulling his phone out of his pocket Archie dialled Jughead’s number, just as Archie was about to hang up Jughead finally answered, there was a lot of background noise that eventually faded out before Jughead spoke. “Archie, hey man, what’s up?” “Not much, am I interrupting anything?” It sounded like Jughead was in the middle of something. “Not really, just going over some serpent stuff at the Whyte Wyrm.” “Well, I was just ringing to let you know Betty’s come home from school, she’s pretty sick.” “Really? Is she okay? Is it anything serious?” Jughead questioned, Archie noted he sounded nothing but concerned. “She was pretty bad at school, my dad thinks it’s just stomach flu, she’s currently sleeping on the bathroom floor.” “Shit, I erm, I need to finish up here, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Would you mind staying with her until I get there?” “Of course I don’t mind.” “Thanks Archie, I really appreciate this.” He hung up without saying goodbye, Archie took one last look at the flowers before going to check on Betty again. Feeling her forehead Archie could tell she was still running a fever, peeling the blanket off her he picked her up and carried her to the bed, she groaned slightly but didn’t wake up. Archie opened Betty’s window as wide as it would go, she’d obviously not been able to keep the Tylenol down so Archie was going to have to try and keep her cool. 

Archie had been watching Betty for a couple of hours before he heard the front door open, sitting up he listened as footsteps raced up the stairs, the door opened slowly and Jughead peered around the door. “Hey, hows she doing?” He asked with a whisper. “Better I think,” Archie replied, moving from his spot at the end of Betty’s bed he made his way towards the door. “She hasn’t been sick in over an hour so I’m taking that as a good sign, she’s still got a high fever though. When she wakes up try and get her to take some Tylenol, it’ll help bring the fever down.” Jughead nodded in response, he walked further into the room and took Archie’s spot at the bottom of the bed. “I’m gonna head home now, ring me if you need anything, her mom should be home anytime soon.” “I will do, and Archie, thanks man.” Archie nodded in his direction, he glanced down at Betty one last time before continuing out the door. Back at home Archie flopped on his bed, he found himself thinking of Betty, he hadn’t been that worried about Betty’s since they were kids and she’d fallen out of a tree and broke her arm. Seeing her lying on the floor in the corridor Archie had automatically thought the worst, he shuddered as he thought this. He’d been having feelings like this ever since the night of the riots, when he’d arrived home to find Betty’s father being escorted away in handcuffs, he can remember how casually Betty had informed him that her dad was the black hood. Archie had hated himself at that moment, he was so angry that instead of being there to help Betty, he had been chasing Veronica around Riverdale after she chose to put herself in harm’s way, meanwhile, Betty was left fighting off the black hood alone. He’d had nightmares ever since, they all involved Betty being harmed or killed by her father, Archie could only watch, powerless to stop it. His father had told him he was struggling with some form of PTSD, which made no sense, he hadn’t even been there that night, Betty had never spoken to him about it, he could only imagine how terrified she must have been. Jerking awake to the sound of his phone pinging Archie glanced outside his window, it was dark out, Archie must have fallen asleep. Checking his phone he saw a text from Betty waiting. How come you left? B. Archie climbed out of bed and walked over to his window, glancing across to Betty’s window he could see her curtains were shut and Betty’s room appeared to be dark. Sending her a message back Archie wondered what she meant by that. Jughead arrived, I thought you’d prefer to have him look after you. A. You were wrong. B. Archie was confused, what did she mean by that, did she not want Jughead to be around her when she was ill. About what? Are you feeling any better? Archie waited but after twenty minutes of no reply, he concluded she must have fallen back to sleep. Glancing at the clock Archie decided against going downstairs for some food and instead stripped out of his clothes and climbed back into bed. Archie awoke the next morning feeling more than well rested, he’d had over 10 hours sleep. Grabbing a quick breakfast to go he walked next door to see how Betty was doing. Alice answered the door looking flustered. “Good morning Archie, Betty’s not going to school today.” “I thought as much, is she doing any better?” Archie asked as he followed Alice into the kitchen. “Not really, I heard her throwing up through the night, she attempted some soup but it sat on her stomach for all of two seconds.” Alice said pulling her face. “Is there anything you need me to get whilst I’m out.” “If you could grab any schoolwork she’ll need I’m sure Betty will appreciate it.” Alice said with a smile. “Will do Mrs Cooper. I’ll pop round after school.” “Thank you Archie. You really are good to Betty.” Archie smiled, he knew Betty would do the exact same for him were the situation reversed.

As lunchtime rolled around Archie was becoming fed up with the day. His lessons seemed to be dragging, he’d messaged Betty to see how she was doing but had received no reply, there had been no answer on the house phone either, Archie wondered if Alice had gone to work leaving Betty all alone. This didn’t sit right with Archie, he worried about her being all alone whilst she was so poorly. Walking home at lunch Archie decided he’d pop in and see her, make sure she was okay before going back to school. Knocking on her front door Archie waited but no one answered, letting himself in using his key he walked up the stairs and knocked on Betty’s door. “Betty, it’s Archie, can I come in.” He shouted out. “Yeah.” He heard Betty grumble from within, pushing open the door he found Betty lay on her bed watching a movie on her laptop. “Hey,” Archie greeted her, “you look better today.” It was true, Betty looked like she had colour in her cheeks today. “Thanks, I feel a little better.” Archie smiled at her “I’ve been worried about you,” Archie admitted. “How come you didn’t message back?” “Sorry, I kept falling asleep.” Betty said sheepishly. “Aren’t you suppose to be at school.” She questioned him. “It’s lunch, thought I’d come and see if you’re okay. Do you need anything?” Betty shook her head. “No, I still can’t stomach any food.” Betty said pulled me her face. “Okay, well I know it’s probably the last thing on your mind but I’ve picked up any schoolwork you’ve missed from your teachers.” Betty smiled at him, a real genuine smile. “Thank you Archie, that really means a lot.” “It’s no problem. I’ll drop it off after school. Speaking of which, I’d better get back, wouldn’t want to be late.” “Thank you for coming to check on me.” Betty said, Archie couldn’t be sure but it looked like she had tears in her eyes. “Again no problem, just next time please respond to my messages or I might just have to walk out of my lesson to make sure you’re ok.” Betty laughed at him but Archie was being serious, it took everything in him to wait till lunch, he’d gotten here in record time. “I will do, I promise.” “Okay, well message me if you need anything picking up on the way home from school. See you later Betty.” Archie leaned over and kissed Betty on her forehead. Pulling back he smiled and walked out of the room, he had no idea what compelled him to kiss Betty, she just looked so small and delicate and he found himself wanting to kiss her better.

                                   ————————————————

Betty watched as Archie walked from the room, closing her door gently behind him. Reaching up she rubbed her fingers over the spot where Archie’s lips had been moments ago. Why on earth had he kissed her? Yes, it had only been a peck on the forehead but it was just so out of the ordinary for Archie, no doubt he just felt sorry for Betty, she probably looked a right state. Climbing carefully out of her bed, Betty stumbled towards her bathroom, greeted by the smell of stale vomit Betty dry heaved, thankfully there was nothing in her stomach to come up. Leaning over the sink Betty stared at her reflection in the mirror, no wonder Archie had looked worried, she looked horrendous. Her hair was stuck to her scalp and her face looked deathly pale. Switching on the shower Betty decided that a quick wash might make her feel a bit more human. After showering and changing into some fresh pyjamas Betty sat back in bed, her hair was still damp, she’d towel dried it as much as she could, she just really did not have the energy to get her hairdryer out. Lying back against her pillows Betty felt drained, she checked her phone but found no messages from the one person she expected to hear from. Jughead had left pretty quickly last night, he hadn’t even given her a reason, he’d gotten a message on his phone and said he’d had to go. Betty shouldn’t have been surprised but she couldn’t help feeling hurt that he chose the serpents over her.

“Betty.” Betty jerked awake, opening her eyes she spotted Archie standing over her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I’ve been calling your name, didn’t you hear me?” Betty shook her head, her heart was still racing, she hadn’t even heard him come in. “Sorry I was sleeping, I must have been well out of it.” Archie looked at her worryingly. “Are you feeling any better?” “Yeah, actually I am.” Betty replied honestly, a shower and sleep seemed to have worked wonders for her. “You do look much better.” Archie told her as he placed his school bag next to him on the floor. “Do you feel like trying something to eat?” “Whoa, let’s not get too crazy.” Betty joked. “I’ll make sure I can keep water down before I get too adventurous, I hate being sick.” Betty frowned, Archie nodded at her. Taking a seat next to Betty on the bed, he reached down and unzipped his bag. “I grabbed your schoolwork, you didn’t miss much though.” Archie pulled the books out and placed them between him and Betty, “Oh and I found this on the doorstep.” Archie pulled a box out and passed it to Betty. Betty’s heart raced as she held the small gift-wrapped box, her hands trembled slightly. “Is everything okay Betty?” Archie asked her, she nodded, this was ridiculous, she couldn’t let the black hood continue to control her life, he was locked up, for good. “Yeah it’s just, it’s silly really, it’s just the last gift that was left here for me was, a severed finger from the black hood.” Betty rushed out, it sounded ridiculous as it poured out of her mouth, she expected Archie to laugh at her so she was shocked when he pulled her into a bone crushing hug. “Betty, I completely forgot, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think.” Betty pulled back to look at him, why was he sorry, the gift wasn’t from him, was it? “Jughead wouldn’t have known, and I just brought it up, I didn’t think.” Archie rambled on. “Wait,” Betty interrupted him, “how do you know it’s from Jug?” “I erm, read the gift tag, it’s his handwriting.” Betty hadn’t even noticed the gift tag. Turning it over she could see that Archie was right, it’s was Jughead’s writing. A little treat for someone sweet. That was all that was written. Ripping the wrapping paper off Betty gently lifted the lid off the box, peering inside Betty could see a small sweet jar containing her favourite sweets, strawberry Bonbons. Any other time Betty would be delighted to receive her favourite sweet but just the sight of them caused Betty’s stomach to flip. Pushing them to the side with a look of disgust Betty heaved into her hand. “What’s wrong?” Archie said grabbing the box to check the contents. “I thought you liked BonBon’s.” “I do, just not right now.”  Betty heaved again but this time she didn’t win the battle to keep the contents of her stomach down, racing towards the bathroom she heard Archie grumble behind her. “You’re an idiot Jughead.” Betty didn’t have time to wonder what he was going on about, she only just made it to the toilet as the glass of water made a reappearance.

                                ————————————————

Archie could only listen as Betty retched into the toilet bowl. Shaking his head he grabbed the jar of sweets and made his way downstairs to hide them. Jughead is such an idiot, Archie thought to himself, he should have known the last thing Betty would have wanted was sweets. Archie had given Jughead a list of gifts Betty would love, judging by the sweets arriving today jughead was following the list in order. After hiding the sweets at the back of one of the cupboards Archie pulled his phone out to message Jughead. Try to avoid giving any more food gifts until Betty feels better. Your sweets just made her hurl. Archie filled a glass with water and made his way back up to Betty. She was just climbing back into bed as Archie arrived. “I’ve hidden the sweets in a cupboard downstairs and here,” Archie held out the glass of water. “I’ve brought you some fresh water.” Taking the cup from him Betty took a small sip before placing the glass on her bedside table. Archie sat down on the end of her bed and pulled his books from his bag, sorting through the work he separated Betty’s work from his. “So, is Jughead gonna call round again today?” Archie asked. “I’m not sure, I haven’t heard from him today.” Betty said as she lay against her pillows. “He hasn’t checked in with you, at all?” Betty shook her head in response. Archie was shocked, how could he not check to make sure she was okay, she’d been in such a bad state yesterday Archie had been worried all day. “Nope, I have no idea what a serpent leader actually does but involves being stuck at the Whyte Wyrm all day unable to speak to anyone outside of Southside.” Betty did not look impressed as she said this. “I should have taken him up on the offer to become the queen, I might actually have seen him more.” “Wait a minute,” Archie stopped her as he registered what she had just said. “Jughead asked you to be the queen of the serpents, “Betty nodded at him. “Is he for real, why would he do that, try and make you a leader of a dangerous gang.” “Archie,” Betty scolded him. “some of the members of that ‘dangerous gang’ are our friends and at one point I wanted nothing more than to be a member myself.” “So why’d you turn him down?” Archie asked, he was more than happy that she did, he really did not want to see his best friend become a leader of the serpents. Betty shrugged her shoulders. “I was worried I’d lose myself if starting hanging around the serpents too long, I don’t want to end up like my dad, dark and full of hatred, I was afraid I drown in the sea of my own darkness if I became one of them.” Archie stared at her as she opened up, his heart broke as she tried to compare herself to her dad. “Betty you can’t honestly think you are anything like your dad.” Betty shrugged her shoulders. “I rather just play it safe either way. So what did I miss at school.” Archie couldn’t miss her not so subtle attempt at a subject change. “Not much, same old stuff different day,” Archie smirked. “You did get quite a bit of homework though, that should keep you busy.” Betty sat up slightly and thumbed through the paperwork. “I’ll start on it tomorrow, I’m too exhausted to even attempt any of that.” She lay back down on the pillows and closed her eyes. “Do you want me to go so you can get some rest?” Archie asked, Betty’s eyes flew open. “No, I mean you don’t have to leave. It gets quite boring being stuck in bed all day. Do you want to stay and watch a film.” She bent down to pick her laptop up from the floor, sitting back she leant against the wall placing the laptop on her legs, she patted the space beside her to signal Archie to sit beside her. “I thought you were tired.” “I’ve slept all day. I just need to rest not sleep.” Relenting Archie moved to sit next beside her, snatching the laptop from her he placed it on his knees. “Fine, but I get to pick the film.” “Deal” Betty said smiling.

Halfway through the movie, Archie glanced over at Betty, she had drifted off at some point and currently had her head rested on Archie’s shoulder. He watched her while she slept, she was looking a lot better, she had a bit of colour back into her cheeks. Archie reached up to hold her head in place as he moved to sit up, gently lowering Betty back down onto the pillows he then covered her with a blanket. Betty groaned slightly in protest. “No, don’t go, I’m awake, finish the film.” Betty mumbled to him, Archie laughed. “Would have been more believable if you could open your eyes.” He joked. “Sleep Betty, I’ll come and see you again tomorrow.” Betty frowned and pouted at Archie, actually pouted, Archie’s heart raced, she looked so cute, all he could think was how much he wanted to kiss that pout. Seizing control of himself he shook his head, settling for an innocent kiss he leaned forward and kissed her forehead once again, he let his lips linger for a little while before pulling back. “Goodnight Betty.” “Goodnight Archie.” Betty’s words were slurred and hardly audible but Archie heard it. Walking from Betty’s room he quietly closed the door behind him and made his way home. Archie should have felt guilty about acting on his feelings, sure it was just a kiss on the forehead, innocent enough between friends, except it wasn’t innocent to Archie.

Betty wasn’t in school again the next day, not that Archie could blame her. He’d been messaging her all day and she was, at least, messaging back today. She’d let Archie know that although she hadn’t thrown up today she was still exhausted and nauseous. Archie had offered to call in at lunch again but Betty had told him not to bother, her mother was working from home today so she wasn’t alone. Archie decided to grab a quick lunch to go and sit in the common room, with no Betty and Jughead, there wasn’t really anyone he wanted to eat with. As he scrolled through his phone he became aware that he wasn’t alone in the room, lowering his phone he spotted Veronica sat on the sofa across from him, when she spotted him looking she gave a small smile. “Hey.” She said to which Archie acknowledged with a nod. Their breakup had been tough on the both of them, whilst Archie had always known that he wouldn’t be with Veronica forever he hadn’t expected things to end so abruptly between them. They’d had fun together and he really did love her in some way, it paled greatly in comparison to his feeling about Betty, they seemed to be growing greatly recently. “So, I, um noticed Betty hasn’t been in school, is she ok?” Veronica asked, it was very rare for Archie to hear her nervous, she always oozed confidence in everything she did. “She’s been ill, she’s doing better though, she might be back in tomorrow.” “Well, when you see her will you tell her I hope she feels better soon.” Veronica looked so down. “Are you two still not speaking?” Archie asked, he had no idea why they had fallen out but they hadn’t spoken to each other since Archie was arrested. “No, she won’t answer any of messages or calls, I think it’s best to just give her a bit of time, she’s not the only one in the school who hates me.” “Veronica no one hates you, and Betty of all people should know that you can’t be held accountable for your father’s actions.” “But that’s where Betty and I differ incredibly, I knew what my father was up to and I helped support it. Betty had no idea that her father was running off into night murdering people” Archie didn’t know what to say to that, after all his relationship with Veronica had fallen apart for the same reason. “Well, I should get going.” Veronica said as she picked her bag up from the floor. “It was nice talking to you again Archie.” She said with a soft smile. Archie had to agree, it was nice, he and Veronica had always been good friends, he hoped that one day they could be once again.

                        —————————————————————

Betty was feeling much better by the time lunchtime rolled around, she’d braved a couple of crackers and managed to keep them down. After having a shower and changing her bed sheets Betty opened her windows, it was beginning to smell a bit ripe in her room. Flopping down on her bed Betty tried to catch her breath, not eating for three days tends to deplete your energy. Reaching for her phone as it started ringing, Jughead’s name flashed across the screen. Betty sighed, she hadn’t spoken to him at all yesterday. “Hey Jug.” She answered as polite as possible, once again her enthusiasm for this relationship had been zapped, why should she bother putting any energy into it if Jughead wasn’t. “Hey Betty, how are you feeling?” “Better today, thanks.” “Listen I’m sorry about yesterday, things were a bit hectic over here, I couldn’t get away.” “It’s fine.” Betty sighed, it really wasn’t fine but she didn’t want to get into it over the phone. “I’m sorry about the gift making you sick, I didn’t realise you were still so poorly.” “Well you wouldn’t do would you.” Betty snapped. “Betty that’s not fair, you know things have been crazy here since the ghoulies killed one of our own, they want blood, I’m trying to prevent an all-out war.” “I understand that Jug, doesn’t mean I have to be happy about being the neglected girlfriend.” “I offered you the chance to be part of this Betty, you turned me down remember.” “And I told you I don’t want to be part of the serpents anymore, don’t you think I’ve had enough killings for a lifetime, I don’t want to be part of a gang that’s out seeking blood.” How could Jughead expect that from her, after what her father put her though Betty didn’t want to be responsible for any more deaths. “Betty I’m sorry.” Jughead started before Betty cut him off. “Just forget it Jughead, I have to go.” Ignoring his pleas from down the phone Betty hung up. God he could be so obtuse sometimes Betty found herself thinking. Betty wandered downstairs in search of some light food to snack on, walking into the kitchen she spotted a gift-wrapped box on the table, checking the tag she noticed it was another gift from Jughead, she rolled her eyes, what was with the constant gift giving recently, it was so out of character for him. Opening the box Betty lifted the gift from the tissue paper. Turning the book over in her hands Betty gasped, it was a copy of her favourite book, Beloved by Toni Morrison. Judging by the grey cloth board cover it was a collectors edition. How did jughead know this was her favourite book, she hadn’t read it in years, this was the first book of Toni Morrison’s that she’d read, Toni Morrison had become her literary hero thanks to this book. Betty took the book up to her room, she placed it carefully on her bed, reaching into her closet she pulled out her old tattered copy, where it had lived for the last few years. As Betty stared at the books realisation dawned on her, Archie, it had to be Archie helping Jughead pick out these gifts, he’s the only one who knows who her all-time favourite author is, he also the only person she’s spoken to about her loss of motivation when it came to writing, which made the notebook with the quote make sense, it had to be Archie, Betty found herself smiling.

                                 ——————————————————

After walking home from school Archie went straight over to Betty’s, he lightly knocked on her bedroom door before entering, Betty had already messaged to say he could come over, he was only knocking to be polite. He found Betty sitting on her bed, laptop and books spread before her. “I see you’re feeling better.” Archie said gesturing at all the school books. Betty sighed. “Yes, so much better, I’ve managed to keep some food down today.” She said with a smug grin, Archie smiled back at her. “That’s great Betty, I’m glad your better.” Shoving some books aside he took a seat beside her. “I grabbed your work for you, you’re probably the only person to ever worry about missed school work while they’re off sick. I’d love to have the excuse to miss out on some homework.” “Trust me Archie you do not want to go through what I just experienced, I thought I was going to die at one point, I didn’t realise a person could vomit that much.” She visibly shuddered as she remembered. “Plus I can’t afford to fall behind, not with all the extra credit I’ve picked up.” “I don’t know how you do it, I struggle with just my normal classes.” Archie said whilst shaking his head. “You do fine Archie, you haven’t failed yet.” “Yeah, that’s because I have you to help me.” He nudged her shoulder with his causing her to giggle. “Speaking of which, we’ve got a ton of math work that I do not understand.” Betty rummaged through her books and pulled her math homework to the top, Archie could see she’d already managed to complete the worksheet. A couple of hours later and Archie had almost got to grips with the problems, groaning he slammed the book shut. “My brain can’t take anymore.” He moaned. “We’ve almost finished Archie, come on” Betty said trying to motivate him. “No, no more, we need a break, why don’t we finish the film from last night.” “Archie.” Betty looked at him disapprovingly, she’s the type of person who likes to get things done there and then, she always has been, Archie has always been quite happy to leave it till the last minute. “Come on Betty, we’ll finish the movie then get right back to it, I promise.” Archie smiled as he watched Betty’s resolve give in, she huffed with a smile on her face as she moved the books off the bed leaving the laptop on her legs. Archie took a seat next to Betty and they settled into the same positions they had been the night before. Partway through the movie Archie became very aware of how close he and Betty were, their shoulders were touching and their thighs were pressed firmly together, Archie felt his heart start to race, they were innocent enough touches but Archie couldn’t help but be very aware of Betty’s presence. Betty stretched out beside him and Archie realised the film was over, he hadn’t even been paying attention, he’d been too preoccupied with Betty’s presence and the tingling sensation her skin on his was causing. “Well, that film didn’t totally suck.” Betty said with a half smile. “Yeah, it’s one of my favourite films” Betty had moved the laptop from her legs and sat facing Archie with one leg tucked under her. “I can see why.” Betty said smiling at him again. Archie felt the air around them change, it seemed to become charged with tension, he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears. Without thinking about it Archie leant forwards and captured Betty’s lips with his. His mind ceased to function as he kissed her with all the passion he could muster. It took Archie a while to realise Betty was kissing him back, her lips were moving in rhythm with his, Archie deepened the kiss, reaching up he cupped the back of her head with his hands, at the same time he felt Betty’s hand weave through his hair, pulling him closer to her. The rest of the world seemed to fade away leaving only him and Betty suspended in time, he never wanted this moment to end. Betty’s hands disappeared from his hair and reappeared on his chest, with a slight push she shoved him away from her. Sitting back Archie struggled to catch his breath, looking over at Betty he could see she was panting as well. “Archie.” She gasped out, a look of hurt fell over her face. Oh no, Archie thought, what the hell did I just do. “Betty, I.. I’m so sorry.” Betty held her hand up to stop him. “I think you should leave.” Betty said, her voice sounded so small and it pierced Archie’s heart. “Betty, please.” She looked down at the bed shaking her head. Archie had fucked up, he couldn’t  leave it like this, he couldn’t risk his friendship over a stupid careless moment. He opened his mouth to speak but Betty cut him off. “I think it’s best if you just went home Archie.” She said without looking at him. Archie stood up and gathered his bag together. Walking towards the door he glanced back at Betty, she continued to look down at her quilt, she wouldn’t even look at Archie. “Please don’t hate me Betty.” Archie said as he walked out the door. Walking into his bedroom he slammed his bag down on his bed, glancing out his window he could see Betty had already closed her blinds. How could he have been so stupid, he hadn’t even thought about it, one minute he was looking at Betty the next he was lunging at her. She was never going to forgive him for this.

                        —————————————————————-

Betty continued to stare at the door Archie had just disappeared through. What the hell had just happened. One minute they were talking about the movie the next Archie was kissing her, and Betty had loved it, the second their lips had touched all conscious thought had left Betty and all she could think about was Archie and how much she wanted him, throughout the kiss she had never felt so much need, she needed more of him, she wanted more of him, until Jughead’s face flashed before her, guilt slammed into her and she had shoved Archie away as though he had burned. Wave after wave of guilt slammed into Betty, she had just cheated on Jughead, with Archie of all people, she might not be happy with Jughead at the moment but he didn’t deserve this. What made it worse was that Betty couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Archie, the feelings it stirred within her were like nothing she’d ever felt before, she couldn’t stop thinking about how much she wanted to kiss Archie again. Groaning loudly she climbed out of bed and slammed her blinds shut, out of sight out of mind she deduced. Her eyes landed on the flowers that Jughead had sent her and the guilt increased tenfold, so Archie may have chosen the gifts but Jughead had still tried to save their relationship, and how did she repay him? By kissing their best friend. Flopping down on her bed Betty stared at the ceiling and wondered what was going to happen now, she was going to have to tell Jughead, she owed him that much, her relationship was as good as over the moment she did though. Jughead had struggled with the idea of their last kiss and they hadn’t even been together. He was never going to forgive her, not that she deserved it.

The next morning Betty woke up feeling terrible, she hadn’t slept very well, her mind kept drifting back to the kiss then she’d feel guilty for thinking about it, for enjoying it. Sulking downstairs Betty told her mother she wasn’t going in again today, for the first time in her life Betty pulled a sickie to get out of school, she must have looked terrible because her mum didn’t argue with her. Climbing back into bed Betty curled up and thought about how she could break the news to Jughead, there was no easy way she could do it,  but she wanted to do it sooner rather than later, it would probably be worse the longer she left it. Betty listened as she heard a knock at the door, her heart leapt into her throat, there’s no way this could be Jughead, could it, he’s never called this early. Listening carefully she breathed a sigh of relief when she heard her mother greet Archie, she listened as her mother told Archie that she wouldn’t be in again today, she froze as she heard Archie ask if he could pop up and see her, thankfully her mother saved the day by saying she was sleeping, hearing the front door close she finally relaxed. Two minutes later her phone dinged with a message, hesitating slightly she picked the phone up and saw a message from Archie, she wasn’t sure she wanted to read it but reluctantly she opened it. Your mom said you’re not coming in today, hope your feeling ok. I’m so sorry Betty. Betty couldn’t think of anything to reply with so she didn’t. Waiting until her mom had left for work Betty messaged jughead asking him to ring her, he phoned Betty shortly after she’d got out the shower. “Hey Betty, how are you feeling today?” “I’m better,” she said, guilt ate away at her as he sounded so caring. “Are you busy right now?” She asked him, she might have been an awful person but she was decent enough not to do this over the phone. “No I’ve only just woken up, why what’s up?” “I was just wondering if you could call over.” “Now?” Jughead asked, it was just going up to ten am, it wasn’t that early. “Unless you’re too busy.” “No, no” jughead interrupted. “I just need to get ready and I’ll be over.” Saying their goodbyes Betty hung up the phone. Her hands were shaking and she felt nervous, this was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. She might not be madly in love Jughead anymore but she still cared about him. Betty found herself tidying her room as a way to keep herself busy and before she knew it Jughead was knocking on the door. Racing down the stairs Betty stopped in front of the door, taking a deep breath she reached out and opened the door. “Hey.” Jughead smiled at her, Betty quickly turned around and walked towards the living room. “You look better.” “Thanks,” Betty said taking a seat on the sofa. “Jughead we need to talk.” Betty cringed as she said this, nothing good ever came after that sentence and judging by the look on Jughead’s face he knew this too. “Betty, I’m sorry about the last few days, I know I haven’t been there for you and I only have myself to blame.” “Jughead it’s fine that’s not…” Betty started before she was interrupted. “No, it’s not, my priority should be you, I know that, I guess I didn’t realise how much the serpents would take over my life, but Betty if I have to choose between the serpents and you, I choose you.” “You don’t have to do that jug.” Betty didn’t think it was possible to feel more guilty than she already did. “I do Betty, you should come first, not them” “I kissed Archie.” Betty blurted out, she couldn’t take hearing how Jughead wanted to make all these changes for her when he didn’t know what kind of person she was. She watched his face as he tried to comprehend what she’d just said. “Betty, I already know this, Cheryl told me, remember.” Betty shook her head, tears were welling in her eyes. Jughead’s face fell. “When?” He asked with an eerie calmness to his voice. “Last night.” Betty whispered, Jughead’s breathing hitched and he took a step backwards from Betty, she rose to her feet and tried to approach him but he held up his hand to keep her back, the rejection stung. “I’m so sorry.” Betty started. “I wish I could take it back I really do.” “Don’t Betty, just don’t. How, why?” The words tumbled out of his mouth, Betty was unsure whether she was supposed to answer, did he really want to know. “How could you do this to me?” “I…” Betty didn’t know how to answer, tears were now sliding down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry Jug” “How could you?” “I didn’t mean to.” “No. Shut up. You’ve hurt me, whether you meant to or not means nothing. Your apology doesn’t get to be a fucking justification to make yourself feel better.” Betty could say nothing, she deserved all of that, Jughead turned and walked towards the door. “No, Jug please don’t go.” Betty sobbed after him, she couldn’t let him leave, not like this. “Betty, if I stay I’m going to end up saying something I regret, you need to let me go.” Betty said nothing as she watched him walk away, as the door slammed shut she sunk to the floor as sobs shook her body.

                               ——————————————————

Archie was halfway through his English lesson when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Quickly pulling it out his heart fell when he realised it wasn’t a message from Betty, she hadn’t replied to the message he’d sent this morning, he’d felt terrible when her mom had said she wasn’t coming in, he had a feeling it was because of him, she’d been feeling much better last night before he’d attacked her. Unlocking the phone he saw the message was from Jughead. I thought you were my friend, how could you do this to me. I trusted you. Reading the message Archie was confused, until it dawned on him, Betty must have told him about the kiss. Archie jumped up from his seat, running from the room he shouted something about feeling unwell. He had to see Betty, he had to make this right. Sprinting most of the way Archie was out of breath by the time he made it to Betty’s. Banging on the door he shouted for Betty to answer, after waiting a few minutes he tried to ring her phone, again he received no answer. Using his key he let himself in, Betty could be angry at him if she wanted to. Finding downstairs empty he went upstairs to check her room, coming to a stop outside her room he could hear her crying, his heart broke at the sound of her heart-wrenching sobs. Walking slowly into her room he found her curled up on the bed. “Betty.” He said from his spot at the door. “Go away.” She shouted in between sobs, Archie felt horrible. “Are you okay?” He cringed the moment the words left his lips, he wanted nothing more than to claw them back, of course she wasn’t okay. “No I’m not okay Archie, Jughead hates me and it’s all your fault. Why did you have to kiss me?” “I don’t know Betty.” Archie wished he had a better answer for her, he didn’t feel that now was the appropriate time to confess his love for her. “That’s not good enough Archie, you ruined my relationship, Jughead is never going to forgive me for this, or you for that matter.” Betty wiped furiously at her face. “I’m sorry Betty.” “You keep saying that but what does it mean, are you sorry for kissing me, did you not mean to?” “No Betty, I mean yes..l..” Archie was at a loss for words. “I’m not sorry for kissing you, I guess I’m sorry for the way I did it especially seeing as you’re still with Jughead.” “Why though, why did you kiss me? It wasn’t that long ago that you said you didn’t want me.” “I was an idiot Betty, I thought you were too good to be with someone like me, you still are. It’s just that, after that night when we chased the black hood, when you kissed me, I haven’t been able to think about anything else, all I can think about is how your lips felt on mine and how much I wanted to kiss you again.” Betty looked shell-shocked, Archie couldn’t blame her, it was a lot to take in. “Why didn’t you talk to me Archie? And why would you go through all the trouble of helping Jughead choose gifts for me, help him try and save our relationship when you felt the way you did.” Betty asked, Archie had never felt so exhausted, walking further into her room he sat down on the edge of her bed. “How could I? Betty, I hurt you so much, I thought I’d lost you when I turned you down, I couldn’t risk telling you this and losing you, you and Jughead are my friends and I thought you were happy with him, and if he made you happy then that was good enough for me, I’d do anything to make you happy.” Betty’s face softened at his confession. “Archie.” She whispered and once again Archie felt the air around them become charged with electricity. “Betty.”Archie whispered back, he found himself leaning forward, he looked into Betty’s eyes as if seeking her approval. Her eyes locked with his and she closed the gap, her lips falling onto his. Archie kissed her back, his hands reached up and tangled in her hair, Betty leaned forwards pushing Archie back until his shoulders collided with the wall, Betty moved to straddle Archie’s lap, placing her legs either side of his, Archie’s hand fell down to the small of her back as he tried to pull her closer to him. Archie’s heart was racing and his head seemed to be swimming, Betty pulled back gasping for air, she rested her forehead on his as she tried to catch her breath. Archie reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears, trailing his fingers down her jawline, Betty looked up at Archie with lust filled eyes. “We should stop.” Betty said breathlessly, Archie pouted at her, he didn’t ever want to stop kissing her. “I should speak to Jughead first, the way we left things, I dunno, I guess I just need to clear things up.” Archie nodded, it wouldn’t be fair on Jughead to jump straight into things. He couldn’t help but notice that Betty made no move to get off him, he smirked at her. “Don’t you think you should move off me then.” Betty smiled at him before leaning down and giving him a small lingering kiss on the lips. Pulling back she smiled at him. “What was that for?” Not that Archie minded. “A thank you, for the gifts.” Archie couldn’t help but smile back at her.

.

[softiebill]

“Office Issues” || Merkel

Word Count: 2.768

Warnings: smut; swearing; first smut written so please be kind; rough sex; german sex king; most probably grammar and spelling mistakes

“Why? Why do you keep doing this stuff? You told me you were going to quit it!” he yelled at you once again.

“I did, Merkel!” you answered him in the same tone, but the huge bag of obviously stolen diamonds laying next to the couch spoke quite differently.

“Then, what’s this?” he gestured the huge bag.

Merkel and you had gotten together in very unfortunate ways. Since your place in Berlin had been going more downhill than ever the only way out you found was to do some “favours” that required your intelligence and agility: planning bank robberies, tricking people, pick-pocketing, anything that could get you a bunch of cash to pass the day. You were nearly unrecognisable considering that you erased yourself from any system you got your hands in, but for the German spy you were an easy target.

His first idea was to catch you and then send you to justice, just like he had been ordered to do along with a bunch of other missions; but his feelings may have gotten in the way somehow. You both clicked immediately and felt unable to separate of each other. And you had to admit it, sex was amazing. You didn’t know what this guy had, but it surely hit on the right spot every single time.

He helped you get out of the streets, got you a fake ID and everything, but that work was easy as you had hidden yourself and your tracks so well none of your crimes pointed at you anyhow. So he made you promise you would never turn to the streets again, for if you did you would put him and his position in danger, and he would have to be forced to send you to “the bad guys”, as you loved to call them. So, when he got home to a bag full of stolen diamonds and jewellery sitting right next to him a discussion set off between the both of you and you wanted anything but it to stop.

“It’s‒it’s a friend’s,” you quietly answered him, crossing your arms over your chest and shrugging your shoulders lightly “he came by asking me for a favour and I tried to explain him I wasn’t into that anymore but he only asked me if he could hide this here because police are on his neck right now and he doesn’t want to fuck this up…”

You waited for Merkel to say something, anything, a comment, a word that could tell you if he believed you or not. But when he sighed angrily and started rubbing his hands over her face you felt you had to continue until the end.

“But he told me he was going to fetch it later when… when the waters run slower, you know? I’m sorry, baby, I had to help me, he had my back so many times and I-”

“I don’t care!” he interrupted you, making you jump a little “Do you know in which position you’re putting me into? My place in Intelligence? My fucking job!? I risked so much by helping you out, (Y/N), and you PROMISED me you would stay out of everything!” he was fuming now, walking from side to side, throwing his hands in the air and his hair was all ruffled and messy.

Tension filled the air and by instinct, you felt unable to handle the situation nicely. You took a deep breath and relaxed your shoulders, there was nothing nice to say anymore.

“I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up, I get that,” you started walking towards him, rage controlling you “but can you PLEASE stop thinking only about you for one damn second!? I left them all alone, I was their brain out there, I helped them, and I know it’s illegal, I fucking know that but would your ego get SO damaged if you put yourself in my shoes for just two seconds?!”

You hadn’t realised how close to him you were until you felt his breath hit your nose. His eyes were full with anger and a touch of lust that made him look just one bit more attractive to you. His hands were closed in a fist and his chest was moving repeatedly up and down.

“It hurts, right?” you continued “Look, there are many things you may have changed about me for the better, but believe or not, I was born in the streets, I was raised in the streets and I am from the streets. And I don’t know whether they taught you this in spy school or not, but from where I come from, if a friend is in trouble, you help him no matter what. And you’ve been undercover long enough to know that.”

A tense silence filled the room, both of you staring right into each other, nothing but anger from both of you. You felt this wasn’t the only thing bothering him, a damn bag was nothing compared of all the stuff you were asked to hide back then, but he had hit home with his comments and you had to stand up for your friends and yourself.

After a long minute of only breathing sounds filling the air you saw Merkel clench his jaw and lift one finger in front of your face.

“If I get one single call about this you bet your pretty fucking ass I’m going to turn you in, okay?”

You put your chest up in defiant and crossed your arms once again. You knew very well he had no proofs to do so, he had given you a whole different name and you were nearly no one in Germany, but telling him would awake a beast you weren’t strong enough to fight with.

Merkel just sighed and threw his hands in the air one more time walking away from you and in circles through the living room. His hands landed on his hair and then slid down to his face. He was stressed about something else. His attitude screamed so. And after letting a huge grunt leave his mouth, his hands still covering his face, he threw himself in the sofa and combed his hair with his fingers, throwing his head back.

Suddenly, you felt sorry for him. Obviously there was something else tensing him so much that the least thing triggered this fury and anger in him. You couldn’t help but feel guilty at how you had yelled at him before, so you slowly approached to him and kneeled next to him in the couch to see he had his eyes closed.

“Hard day at work?” you quietly asked him, running his fingers through his hair.

“The… The fucking cops keep breaking in the bar with no warning and if they keep on doing it my position will be compromised and-” he started answering you almost in a whisper, but you knew precisely how to end that sentence.

“And people will stop going and your hard work will be thrown in the trash,” you finished him, running your hand through his cheek and moving down to his neck and chest “I’m sorry, baby. Maybe I can try finding someone close to them so I can be told beforehand when they’ll be breaking in; maybe that can divert them from suspecting…”

“No, pet,” he answered, him calling you like that hitting below “I don’t want you to get involved in this. I will contact my superior later and threaten him somehow, I will find a way”

“But it’s stressing you out…” you pouted at him and played with the hem of his shirt. Now that the argument had died out you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was looking, and it was starting to trouble you down there, and considering how tense he was you knew there was something that would help release all that tension. And you were 100% in for it.

“Well, then, I can help you in other way if you want” you cooed in his ear.

He immediately looked at you and you saw the lust in his eyes grow bigger. He had gotten the sign. “You do, pet?” he tilted his head innocently and shuffled in his place sitting straighter. You nodded and he added: “Okay then, tell me how you can help”

“Mm,” you threw one leg over his lap, straddling him, and put your hands on his shoulders, massaging them lightly “this is just an idea that crossed my mind…”

He put his hands on your waist and squeezed them a little, begging you to continue. You fixed your eyes on his neck and drew closer to him, slightly pressing your mouth to his ear.

“You are so tense right now, my love,” you whispered, making him gulp just a little “why don’t you release it?”

You felt him grow under you and a smile escaped from your lips.

“I don’t know,” he cooed in response, a smug smile on his face “I don’t want to hurt you, doll”

You pressed yourself closer to his crotch, earning a groan from the German. You threw your hair all to one side and inched closer to his face. You let your eyes fall to his lips and placed your hands on his neck.

“You know very well I can handle it rough, my dear…”

That must have hit him hard as he wasted no time in pressing his lips on yours, hungrily kissing you. His hands moved to your bottom back and pressed you against him, leaving no space between the two of you. His lips made wonders with yours, and he slipped his tongue in yours, deepening the kiss.

You moved your hands from his chest to his hair, running your hands through the top no-shaved part. Suddenly, he broke the kiss only to move his mouth down to your neck, pressing his hot tongue on the side and sucking on your skin, leaving you red marks all over it. You tried to suppress a moan, but felt unable to do so as he paid extra attention to the sweet spot close to your collarbone, making you moan once again.

He groaned once again, the pressure in his pants becoming now unbearable to contain.

“Please, let’s go to bed” you whispered with the little breath you had left.

He finally let go of your neck and the moment you stood up you realised how wet you already were for him. Fuck him and his pretty mouth, you thought making your way to the bedroom.

No sooner you had entered the room than he grabbed you by the waist and threw you against the closest wall, leaning down again to kiss you. He immediately moved one hand up your head, grabbing your hair and forcing your face up.

“You’re too fucking short, jump” he ordered you squeezing your ass with the other hand.

You did as he told you and wrapped your legs around his waist. He pressed you harder against the wall keeping you balanced and placed one hand on your boob and squeezed it lightly. You moaned into the kiss and he bit your lip just to let it go slowly.

He let go of your hair to place his large hand under your ass, securing you as he walked over the bed, making sure not to break the kiss. When his legs touched the bottom of the bed he slowly put you down, breaking the kiss. He started to work his belt off, and when you saw him struggle you kneeled in front of him, helping him get rid of his pants until he was fully naked in front of you. His dick was already hard and ready. You instantly grabbed it and stroked it up and down, and just when you were going to put it in your mouth he grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him. He looked desperate and aroused. He pushed you back on the bed and climbed with you.

“I have no time for this, sweet girl, I need you now” he said in a raspy voice, helping you strip out of your clothes. As soon as you were fully naked he took his time to admire the view, looking at you up and down your beautiful panting body. He extended his hand and caressed your thigh just one time before he leaned down to kiss you sweetly in the mouth. He placed one hand next to you, keeping him in place and placed the other on the side of your thigh.

At this point you wanted nothing but him inside you, so you slide one hand down between your bodies and grabbed his member, guiding it to where you wanted him the most. He wasted no time and finally entered you, making you moan in pleasure and throw your head back.

“Fuck, baby, you were already so wet for me” he whispered as he started to slowly thrust in you. He let his head fall on your neck while he kept on moving in and out, his pace quickening with each move. He nibbled your skin and you placed a hand on the back of his neck and the other one on his bicep squeezing it.

Suddenly he put both of his hands next to your head and lifted himself up, thrusting you now harder and harder. You could feel all the tension leaving his body, his muscles clenching and him hitting your spot every single thrust. You didn’t know what this boy had, but he surely had it.

“Fuck” you almost whispered between all your panting and moaning, running you hands through his back feeling your nails leave marks on him.

“Shit, doll, you feel so fucking good” he whispered back, grabbing one of your legs and placing it over his shoulder, his movements never stopping.

Seconds later, you felt him stop and slip out of you, making you groan in discomfort.

“Turn around” he ordered you. You obeyed as he grabbed your waist, lifting it up a bit to place a pillow down there. Then he leaned down, giving your ass one bite and a firm squeeze, making you moan again, and then he proceeded to place a trail of kisses from the bottom of your back, up the spine and then your mouth. He kept making out with you and entered you again to continue where you both had left on.

This time he was thrusting harder and harder, making you almost scream. You could feel the heat growing down there, signalling you were close.

“Fuck, I’m- I’m so close” you whimpered as your boyfriends kept thrusting in and out mercilessly.

“Hold on, sugar, I’m almost there” he answered you as his thrusts became sloppier.

It took him three last thrust before you felt him cum inside you, a loud moan escaping from his lips. You couldn’t contain it anymore and immediately, screaming loudly his name, you came with him, both of you a moaning mess.

You were still shaking and moaning when he started to place sweet wet kisses on your back, waiting for you to ride your orgasm out. When you were done, he slowly slipped out of you and threw himself next to you. You were both panting and out of breath.

Minutes later you felt him stand up and watched him walk inside the bathroom, probably to wash himself. He came out with a warm towel, which he used to clean you up. You smiled at the sweet gestured and when he was done, he threw the towel on the floor and threw himself next to you again. You ran your fingers through his hair and leaned closer to place small kissed on his neck and chest.

“Better now?” you asked him, inching closer to place a kiss on his plump lips.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer to him “you were amazing”

“Likewise,” you laughed in response as he started placing kisses all over your face.

His kissed then trailed down to your neck, pecking the bruises he had left you earlier.

“When did you say your friend’s coming to pick the bag up?” he groaned in your neck, feeling where this was going.

“I didn’t say, he told me around midnight” you answered him, placing a hand on the side of his face keeping him in that place.

“Wonderful,” he whispered looking back at you with a smug smile on his face and dreamy eyes “that gives us plenty of time for round two”

[fanatic-writers]

New Kid In Town: Bye Bye Birdie

A/n: Guess who’s back. Back again. G is back. For like a week cause school sucks but at least it’s Spring break and G still can't come up with a title to save her life. I have to write a fic for a contest I entered, but I wrote this instead... sorry? I kinda think it sucks, but I hate everything I write so. Let me know if you have any ideas for how this series should end should it be a happy ending? Should Tho hook up with the reader? Or maybe Nat does idk fam... this is a work in progress cause I have like two ideas for this fic, but nothing is set in stone, so you’re ideas are much appreciated -G

Paring Loki x reader? Thor x reader? Tony x reader? fuck if I know 

Warnings: shit writing and some bad language words (Sorry Stevie)

(WHY AREN”T THERE ANY YOUNG TO HIDDLESTON GIFS WHERE DO I NEED TO BE LOOKING?????)

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Every day was slightly worse than the last. It had only been a few days since Loki and his family had had dinner with Y/n And her parents, but things were already changing. Not just with her but with the others. Tony was getting worse too, new nicknames were thrown in Loki's direction, and they weren't even creative. 

He was sitting with Wanda, Clint, and the others just like every other day. Except today carrots were being launched in their direction and Loki had just gotten hit square in the back. 

“I swear if they throw another one I'm going to lose it,” Clint grumbled “Bruce hand me your lunch box,” 

“What? No!” Bruce protested as Clint grabbed it from him anyways 

“There's nothing I can throw in here,” Clint pointed out tossing the empty ziplock bags to the side, Loki chuckled.

“You'll only make it worse Clint, just leave it,” Wanda sighed

“No,” Clint retorted as another carrot went flying “this is bullshit and you know it's she's only doing it because she thinks she can get away with it!” 

“She's not even the one throwing them,” Scott spoke up “It's the dude who’s trying to grow a beard, and it looks awful.” Loki stole a quick glance at the table watching the others laugh while Tony threw another carrot nearly missing Loki's face. 

“He's after me,” Loki sighed “I can move if you want, you shouldn't get caught in the crossfire.” 

“It's fine we’re used to it by now,” Wanda reassured him as another carrot hit the table 

“Would you stop it!?” a familiar voice rang through the cafeteria silencing the noise “What are you five? I'd figure by now you'd be more mature than the freshman.” 

“Calm down Y/n it’s just a little fun,” Tony replied as Nat laughed 

Y/n looked to Thor who was the only other silent student in their group at the moment “Yeah whatever, I've got things to do I'll see you guys later.” with that Y/n grabbed her tray before throwing it in the trash, she hesitated as she passed by Loki's table. 

“I- I'm sorry for them” the girl started 

“Don't strain yourself,” Clint replied receiving a smack from Wanda as Y/n walked away.

“Loki, wait!” Loki sighed as he stopped walking when he heard his brothers voice behind him 

“Yes?” the boy replied

“I figured we could walk home,” Thor answered, he looked disheveled and confused 

“Y/n stopped giving you tides too?” Loki smirked

“For the record, she never stopped giving you a ride you stopped accepting them. I don't know what's going on with her she's seemed hesitant to be seen anywhere with me outside of school,” he told him 

“Maybe she's trying to get rid of you?” 

“I don't know, she seems upset about something, but she won't tell anyone. She even told me she couldn't give me a ride because of rehearsal, but when I went to the theater, they said she wasn't called in for the day.” 

“Weird,” Loki replied “I don't know her that well but that doesn't seem normal,” 

“Exactly,” Thor looked down at his feet as they walked “you know what else is weird?” 

“What?” 

“She never stops talking about you, not until recently when she started acting strangely. If those other things weren't going on, I'd say she'd finally come to her senses I mean why talk about you when she has me?” Thor smiled, and Loki chuckled

“OH because you're soooo cool,” Loki mocked him “Look at me! I'm a bottle blonde who likes sports like everyone else!” 

“At least I have a hobby and don't spend my days locked in my room,” Thor retorted 

“I have plenty of hobbies,” Loki replied as they walked into their home 

“Like what?” Thor looked at his brother 

“Like,” Loki hesitated “Like writing and stuff,” 

“And stuff?” Thor laughed opening the room to his door, Loki's eyes went wide when he saw a figure sitting on his brother's bed.

“I'll um… I'll give you two some space.” Loki said as he started to walk away but Y/n’s voice stopped him.

“No, please stay, this is something you both need to hear, from me.”

Thor looked at his brother, and Loki hesitantly walked further into the room, Y/n had looked as if she had been crying and Loki wan never good at comforting people. 

“I’m sorry this is creepy as fuck, but I had to tell you guys I couldn’t risk you two ending up thinking of me the same way Clint and the others do.” she hesitated “I mean we’re neighbors we can't awkwardly hate each other, and there are cul de sac parties that would just be even more of a living hell than they already are.”

Thor sat on his bed next to her, and she looked at her hands as if she had written a script on them and had lost her place. Loki took a seat on the desk across from them still feeling slightly awkward and out of place. 

“My parents,” she spoke up again “well to put it simply their assholes, they dictate my entire life because apparently, I can’t make my own decisions. They-they don’t want me hanging out with you guys anymore. According to them your bad influences and it’s pathetic, but I can’t risk them even finding out I'm here and, and” Y/n was on the brink of tears 

“Is that why you don’t hang out with Wanda?” Loki finally spoke up

She nodded “I kept trying, Id go to her house and say I was going to Clint’s and then they found out. They literally drove to her house and dragged me home. That’s when they decided they hated Clint too. Bruce and I used to study every Friday and one day they thought we were getting a little too friendly and suddenly he was banned from the house and I had a tutor. Scott and I had one school project together, and I suggested we work at my place, I guess I was enjoying myself too much because when I went to school the next day I was paired up with Tony and Scott was pissed. I can’t even stand half the people at my table, and I think that’s why they approve of them, I never invite them over so they aren’t a distraction and the only one who’s ever over is and her parents work at the school, so that makes them ok.” she sighed “I’m sorry I didn’t come here to give you my sob story.”

Thor put an arm around her “It’s alright, we’ll find a way to make this work somehow.” 

“No,” she started “if Nat’s parents see us together, and they will, we’re fucked”

“It’s not like their Russian spies,” Loki smirked, “if you want to hang out we’ll find somewhere.”

“They might as well be,” She hesitated “look I gotta go if my parents realize I’m not home this is the first place they’ll look.”

The brothers walked her to the back door, and she apologized again before she left. Loki made his way back to his room, and his brother did the same. Honestly, he didn't know why he was so upset about Y/n not being able to talk to him; it’s not like they talked much anyways. Maybe it’s because her parents had practically ruined her life or maybe it was because she was the only bearable thing at his school. Loki shook the thought out of his head. No way was he going to catch feelings, he would not let this be another Romeo and Juliet story. He looked out his window and towards hers, her blinds were up and always curtains parted just enough for him to see into her life. She was practicing her violin when the door opened, and her father walked in, clearly angry. The argument seemed to last hours incoherent yelling between the two ending with the door slamming shut and Y/n on her bed. Covers pulled over her head her face presumably buried in her pillow. Loki wished he could teleport into her room, hold her, do something. Then again he and his brother were probably the cause of the fight, and he was certain he’d just make things worse. 

The next day Y/n didn't even talk to the brothers, and Thor sat with Loki at lunch claiming he didn’t want to make things worse. Loki hadn't told him what he saw last night, but Thor seemed to know. Despite Clint being an ass, as usual, the rest of the group accepted Thor with fairly opened arms.

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A/n: sorry if that sucked but it’s what I came up with in my still semi-sick state. requests are open and I’m like 10 away from 1,000 so let me know if you guys wanna do something for that. -G

[notgonnarememberthis]

Honey

Hello!! After last week’s sequence I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head and had to write it down but I promise I am working on the next chapter of fywbym. Hopefully this angsty little one shot can keep y’all happy until then!! Enjoy!!!

Jessica spins in the mirror for the hundredth time, reassessing the dress Ainsley picked out all over again. Not that she doesn’t trust her daughter’s decision, no, her intuition is normally on point. However, absolutely nothing can go wrong tonight. She has worked 21 years to have this night.

When Gil asked her to dinner out of the blue she’d almost dropped her tea. Sure they’d unofficially been dating for a couple weeks but dinner felt solidifying. A public statement would be made, tabloids would explode with headlines how The Surgeon’s ex-wife has a new man in her life. It will be all over the news by tomorrow.

Oh, Martin would be so furious.

The thought makes her smile even wider.

Almost on cue her phone begins to ring, with her tongue pressed behind her teeth she checks the caller ID. Relief spreads through her at the picture that pops on the screen. She picks it up, holding it to her ear. “Couldn’t wait to see me?” She teases with a flirtatious lull.

“Nope.” Gil pops the end of the word and she can hear the giddiness in his tone. It fills her chest with a warmth that has been so rare over the past few months. It leaves her feeling like she should be dancing through the hallways like a drunken teenager. So carelessly free that her happiness can’t be contained.

Even Malcolm and Ainsley have joined in on the feeling. They’ve shared family dinners with Gil at the table more than a few times now. Ainsley bouncing with glee at their hands clasped together and Malcolm sitting a little taller with each exchanged glance. Her family, at last, feels complete.

“I was just calling to let you know I’m running a little late. We’re polishing off a case but I will be there as soon as I can.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I haven’t even left yet. I want to make sure I look perfect.” She passes by a mirror and checks her hair once again, fluffing the curls with her free hand.

“You would look beautiful in pajamas.”

“You say that because you have the dream of me in one of your turtlenecks.” His chuckle sends fire running through her veins and she bites her bottom lip.

“I prefer you with nothing on, actually.” She stammers thoughtlessly, her brain short circuiting after being beaten at her own game. His laugh sends a blush across her chest and she coughs trying to pull herself together. “Did I actually just make a Whitly speechless?”

“Hardly.” She purrs making a swift recovery from being thrown off track. “Just didn’t know if you wanted everyone at your work to know.”

“I don’t care. Let them know.” Now she really feels like dancing across the room.

“Oh, you’re definitely getting a treat tonight.”

“Promise?” Her laugh cuts off when she hears a door close from the other room. She pokes her head out the door of her bedroom and listens for a moment. “Jess?” She hears the line call out to her at the sudden silence. Sure enough she can hear footsteps coming from the main hall.

“Malcolm!” She calls out, “You really should have called to let me know you’d be coming. I was just about to head out!” She shakes her head when her son doesn’t respond. She huffs pulling the phone back to her ear. “Sorry about that.”

“Jess, Malcolm is still here.” Gil’s voice sounds apprehensive. “I’m looking at him right now.” Her heart thumps heavily in her chest. She knows he has a window in his office and it makes sense that Malcolm would be there at least until he left, determined to see these cases all the way until the end.

“Well it can’t be Ainsley, she goes on air in an hour.” She tries to laugh away the anxiety pooling in her stomach. Something doesn’t feel right. She shakes out her hand grabbing her clutch from her vanity. “It must be Adolpho. I have been taking much longer than usual.” The half hearted noise Gil makes is indicative that he’s not convinced. Truth be told, she isn’t either. Adolpho had only ever come inside to check on her once and it was when Ainsley was so sick that she had to cancel attending a gala all together to take care of her.

She’s just overreacting though, it has to be Louisa. Or maybe Ainsley forgot a file and came back to the house to retrieve it. Surely she’s imagining that the footsteps sound heavier than she’s familiar with.

Surely.

“Jess, stay there. I’ll be there soon. Don’t hang up.” She could hear him gathering his things over the line and barking out an order to another officer about finishing up the file. He should bring Malcolm, she thinks absentmindedly. Just in case something were to happen.

She shakes her head trying to will the dark thought away. She’s just anxious, is all. Maybe she hadn’t heard anything at all. She rounds the corner of the dining room trying to compose her best annoyed look to mask her deepest fears. However it fell as quickly as it appeared when she laid eyes on the person standing there.

Martin stands in the middle of the room, his eyes tracing over the walls with an almost gleeful smile on his face. A brown jacket covers his white psychiatric ward uniform. Briefly, she recognizes the jacket from his office in the basement. It should have gone up in flames with the rest of his things; it made no sense for it to be there.

This has to be a nightmare.

That’s it. This is a sick twisted nightmare from her subconscious. She just needs to wake up. Yet when he turns around to face her with that smile she stumbles back all the same. She crashes into the bar cart sending the glasses and bottles crashing to the floor with her weight. The pain that echoes through her side is a horrific confirmation.

This isn’t a dream.

“I have to go.” Her voice is thick, betraying the fear in her tone. She hears Gil try to fight but she hangs up anyways. Martin has always been jealous of Gil. It was probably safer to keep him busy until Gil arrived. Not let him know. However, when her eyes meet his she instantly regrets every choice she made.

“Jessie!” The nickname alone makes her feel sick to her stomach. She should have trusted her intuition. Run to the back and hid there until Gil came to get her. She should have listened, fuck. “It’s remarkable how different it all looks. Love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Martin-” Her voice barely comes out in a whisper. She swallows before trying again, “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m home!” Now she really feels sick, gripping onto the cart for the support her heels are denying her. He spreads his arms like expects something; what a hug? She shuts down the expression of disgust before it crosses her features. She stands up straight, steeling herself with a cold gaze. All the while her hand reaches behind her for something, anything to protect herself with. She feels a sense of calm when her fingers successfully wrap around the heavy metal shaker. “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?”

‘No,” She sighs. “That was just Malcolm.” The lie spills off her tongue effortlessly. In any other setting she’d tell the truth and revel in rubbing it in his face. He tilts his head with narrowed eyes. If he senses that she’s being anything other than truthful, he doesn’t say. But he senses the lie regardless, of course the pathological liar would. She would need to do better than that.

“You’re awfully dressed up to be spending the night alone.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh,” His face darkens and she stumbles to find a new purchase.

“I have a meeting with the new investors of the Sanders’ Foundation. I made a promise to Malcolm that I’d carry on Eve’s charity after she passed. We’re officially signing tonight. It’s a celebratory dinner.” It’s not entirely a lie. She had that meeting last week, not tonight. When his posture straightens up she lets herself breathe a little easier.

“Well you look beautiful. Personally I’ve always preferred you in red, but the green is lovely too.” She weighs her options as he steps closer. The shaker is heavy and if she’s accurate she can stun him at least. From there her plans are null. Where can she run to where he wouldn’t know about, that he wouldn’t suspect from her. One of the guest rooms would work but she’s outmatched if she gets caught.

It’d be safer to play along. “Can I make you a drink?” He glances down at the shattered bottles with a raised eyebrow. “I have more in the kitchen.”

“Where is my boy?”

“Finishing off a case. Surely he talked to you about the-”

“The Candyman, yes I’ve been keeping up with Ainsley’s broadcasting. Riveting stuff.” He smiles, an empty one devoid of all emotion. “Where is she? I’ve been wishing to speak with her for,” He sighs. “Well for ages.”

Absolutely not. Her protective instincts shift into high gear. At least at the precinct Malcolm is safe from him, however she doesn’t trust Ainsley’s studio enough. She would not send him directly to her. No matter what it cost her. “Surely trying to get a closing argument from her brother that’s actually on the record.” Martin guffaws at that, the harsh sound causing her to jump. The sound stops as soon as it started when his eyes land on something new.

“Who’s that from.” It’s not a question. His eyes are trained on the bracelet on her wrist. It’s a simple thing, far less attention grabbing than anything else she’d worn in the past. A simple gold chain with two birthstones intertwined, Malcolm and Ainsley’s. It’d been a birthday gift that she wore fondly.

From Gil.

“Jessie.” The tone comes out as a warning. His eyes are trained on her but with his head tilted upwards his eyes are focused down. Like he’s looking down on her. As if he has any right to the truth, much less to her.

A lie here would be pointless. He knows it’s nothing either of the children would have gotten her. Gifts between the three of them rarely ventured outside of an expensive bottle of alcohol. Who needed them when they could buy anything they could possibly want? Truth be told, the bracelet having been the first gift she’d received in over 15 years brought tears to her eyes.

Of course she had to pick tonight to wear it.

“It’s from Gil.” She’s proud that her voice doesn’t shake with the statement. Her entire body is doing enough of that just standing a few feet from this man. 

“You have a date.” The last word spits out like venom. She tightens her jaw, anger blossoming beneath her chest. How dare he? As he steps forwards again she makes the split second decision.

She swings the cup with all of her might, ready to bolt as soon as she makes connection with his head.

She almost did. He, however, seemed just as prepared for the attack catching her wrist in his hand with ease. The cup clatters loudly to the ground as she drops it, all the momentum of her anger dissipating in a split second.

For a frightening moment they are chest to chest. She can feel his breath fanning her face while his unreadable gaze traces over her features. This close she’s almost certain he can feel how fast her heart is beating, that he can read the fear beneath her rage, he can feel the tremor of her wrist clasped tight in his grip.

Three swift knocks stop whatever he planned to say or do. Strong, heavy raps indicative of the police at her doorstep. For a moment she’s not certain that he will even react. His face an absolutely terrifying blank slate. Then a lighter, much more frantic knock.

“Mom!” She can hear Malcolm calling out to her. “Mom, open the door!”

She watches the switch in Martin’s eyes, a teasing laugh escaping his lips. “Our children have always had horrible timing.”

“I should get that.” She whispers side stepping out of his way. Yet as she walks, he pulls her wrist back spinning her to face him again. He’s making a decision, she recognizes in horror. Whether to take her with him or let her go. She bites her cheek so hard that she can taste copper on her tongue.

She would put up a hell of a fight.

She would lose.

He draws her hand to his lips pressing a kiss to it with a smile. “I’ve missed you. I’ll see you soon.” And he let’s go.

She doesn’t hesitate to see where he goes. In all honesty, it doesn’t matter to her in the slightest as she rushes to the door. Safety is so close but the hallways feel like they stretch forever with Malcolm’s pleading tone getting farther and farther.

Wrenching the door open to see Malcolm and Gil staring at her terrified feels like waking up from a nightmare. Malcolm crashes into her with a quick hug that she barely has time to return before he’s rushing off to see what the hell had spooked her over the phone. Gil’s face is stone, looking at her with a mixture of worry and annoyance.

He knows. Only one person in the world can scare her that much.

“Jess,” He sighs, relief and comfort soothing her fears. “Are you alright?” She shakes her head, almost indecipherably as the tears finally slide down her face. All the rage, terror, and anxiety of the past few minutes crashing over her as she falls into his arms. Gil is the only thing holding her upright as she slips into the cascade with Martin’s threat still ringing in her ears.

I’ll see you soon.

[dreamin-of-somewhere-else]

A Day in the Life

Characters: John, oldest Winchester sister!reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester.

Words: 2000

Warnings: A teeny tiny bit of blood, a little bit of a language (probably just one word or something), a little bit of fluff. Nothing bad at all in this one.

A/N: So I was debating whether or not to post it since it’s a bit similar to stuff I’ve written lately, but then again, I felt like I needed to post something, and some of you even seemed to want me to post it <3 

Have you seen Shameless? I’ve only seen a handful of episodes (started watching the other day) and this is a little bit inspired by Fiona taking care of the other siblings. I think it’s cute, so yeah, just a fun fact I guess. Also, this is pre-series (my favorite thing to write) and pretty much focused on the reader and her life.

So yeah, hopefully this is okay for now and I’ll try to vary the fics more until next 

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You looked down at the fresh fake IDs you just made for you and your dad, pictures of the two of you staring back at you as you thumbed through the thin stack. Reaching the Impala, you opened the door, and sat down, stuffing them into the glove compartment for now. You would need them for the investigation you were continuing tomorrow, going undercover.

Nowadays, you and your dad split up for the most part of the cases, during basically all of the research. It was fine, you were young — 21 years of age — but still good at your job. You did have quite a lot of experience contrary popular belief, judging by your youthful appearance. Since you graduated, this was what you did 24 hours around the clock, hunting was the only thing that made up your life. That, and taking care of your baby brothers, of course.

Money always had been a bit of a problem, to you more noticeable than ever since you now had the main responsibility to make sure you had it. John had basically passed it over to you, gradually over many years. For the most part, you tried to do it legally. Working a few shifts at a diner or a bar was the usual — it was surprisingly easy to get a job if you just dressed up in your nicest clothes (or in other words, the one outfit you had saved for that very purpose) and smiled a lot. They didn’t know that you would quit in less than three weeks in most cases, because you just didn’t tell them.

But, despite that, it wasn’t enough. You were four people after all, with two still going to school, and the few shifts you had the time to work (hunting was to blame for the lack of time) weren’t enough to pay for everything. So, credit card fraud and other stuff like that had always been in the picture. And although it was John who handled that, you could tell he was planning to drop that task on you too sooner or later.

Starting the car and looking down at your wristwatch (probably your most expensive possession) you cursed out loud, even though it was only you there to hear.

”Shit!”

You were supposed to pick up your brothers, like, ten minutes ago. The cheapest motel of the small town were located a bit too far for walking distance from the school, so you were driving them every morning and afternoon.

With guilt growing in your stomach, you stepped on the gas to get to the high school where Sam, a freshman, and Dean, a senior, currently went.

Five minutes later you arrived at the school building, pulling up into the now empty parking lot. They both walked towards to the black, sleek, car once it had come to a stop, climbing into it.

”Guys, I’m so, so, sorry.” You apologized with a guilty expression on your face, flashing a tiny remorseful smile on your face that never reached your eyes. ”I lost track of time,” you lied because the truth was that you had had too much to do today.

You looked from Dean besides you in the front seat, to Sam in the back.

”It’s okay,” Dean responded, and that was it.

Sam just looked tired and the rest of the car ride was quiet.

The next morning you woke up along with your little brothers, just like you always did, despite the fact that you don’t have any particular place to be any certain time. But, you helped them get ready, just like you’d always done. Dean sometimes complained quietly at you running around and fixing things for him, practically being a mother hen, but then again, he hadn’t straight out asked you to stop.

This specific motel had the luxury of a mini fridge to put some food in, so you had made them sandwiches to bring to school during the latest week you had been spending here, while they shower, brush their teeth and what not. Today, it didn’t take you long to realize that there weren’t any bread left — you forgot to buy it yesterday — which meant that that lunch plan went down the drain.

You quickly strode over from the minuscule kitchen to your oversized denim jacket that was thrown over the backrest of a chair. Rummaging through the pockets, you brought out the last money you had since your latest payment from the diner you were currently working on, and handled the crumpled dollar bills to Sam and Dean, placing half and half in each of their outstretched hands.

”Don’t you need that, (Y/N)?” Sam asked as he looked up from the cash in his hand and at you, frowning.

You shrugged as you ushered them through the door and to the car.

”Nah, I have a few more left.” It was obviously a lie, but you could always call your dad and have lunch with him today, or ask him for a few bucks to pay for your own.

Although, he never did answer your phone calls.

That day you talked to the old, divorced, Mrs Colton at the end of the street from where the body was found. She was supposedly always watching everything that goes on outside of her very ordinary house, and you hoped that she had seen anything — something that didn’t quite make sense, something that wasn’t supposed to be real. She didn’t have much to offer though, and except of talking about sightings of what goes bump in the night, you ended up having a quite long conversation about her red tabby cat once named Catshup but re-named Susan after her kids moved out.

One hour later you thanked Mrs Colton, and left her home behind. Your next stop was the victim’s house further down the street and on the way there you grabbed a duffle bag with tools from the Impala. It was in the middle of the day, and nobody seemed to be home in the closest houses — except for the woman you just visited — but you kept out of the areas she could see from her freakishly clean windows.

Opening the worn duffle bag and pulling out your lock pick, you looked around yourself. It was one of those chilly autumn days where everything was just kind of grey. A flock of birds lifted from a close by tree, and your eyes shot in that direction but there was no one there. The coast seemed to be clear.

20 minutes later, you walked out of the house, sighing and not knowing any more about what had happened to the poor guy. You had checked for EMF — but there was nothing. Not even a trace. No sulfur, and no strange claw marks either.

Soon after you reached the Impala and yawned as you sat down inside. Maybe you stayed up researching a little bit too late last night. Meanwhile, hunger was gnawing at your insides from the lack of lunch.

You pulled up a note from your pocket where you had a handful of names scribbled down. They were all friends of the victim who you were planning to talk to as well. You doubted you’d have time to interview them all before you had to drive to the diner to work today’s two hour shift. And then, after that, you had to pick up your brothers at school. On time this time.

John was a bit annoyed when you told him that you didn’t really find anything new, groundbreaking today. Fortunately, he didn’t share the same bad luck.

Turned out it was a shapeshifter. A monster who took the shape of a human, and that’s why no one suspected anything supernatural. So, John sent you out to the car to go and get all the silver bullets you had, and then you loaded your guns.

After persuading your father to not bring Sam and Dean — he wanted to at first and if Dean would’ve known, he would have wanted to as well — you left just you two to kill the damned shapeshifter.

Four hours later, just after midnight, John stumbled into the motel room, your arm wrapped around his shoulders as your head hung low. He was helping you walk, with most of your weight on him.

Sam and Dean, who were doing homework and watching TV respectively, stared at you both and when they saw that the white t-shirt you were wearing had a dark red stain, they practically flew off their beds, rushing up to you.

”Shit, what happened?” Dean questioned, looking up at John with wide green eyes.

As he and Sam waited for your dad to answer, they took your weight off him and carried you to the closest bed. Sam then went to go and get the first aid kit.

”It’s not that bad,” John responded finally, as he shrugged off his dirty jacket, throwing it at the floor.  

Either he hadn’t noticed or he didn’t care that you had taken time in your day to clean up the messy motel room a bit, clearing the floor.

Dean settled you down before glaring at his dad. He neither believed him or was happy. You looked dazed and tired, and for John to just shrug it off like it was nothing made Dean angry. He bit down on his lip, not wanting to start an argument with his father.

”It’s… not that bad…” you told him, agreeing with John, but your words were sluggish and Dean had to concentrate to hear what you were saying.

He placed his hands on your cheeks, and his thumbs under your eyebrows. When he gently lifted them, your eyes automatically opened wider. Simultaneously, Sam came back with a flashlight and shone it into them. You shrugged back, but them both had the time to see the unevenness in your pupils.

”Concussion,” Sam and Dean both mumbled at the same time, looking at each other.

Then Sam gently lifted your shirt a little bit, to check on the injury. It’s not that bad thankfully, but it did need some stitches. Dean brought out the needle and thread which meant it was Sam’s job to distract you.

”I’m tired,” you groaned, and tried to lie down. Your mind was all fuzzy, and the only thing you knew was that you wanted to sleep.

”No, no, no, (Y/N),” Sam grabbed a hold of your wrists and pulled you upwards, Dean supporting him and you by putting a hand on your back while holding the needle in his other.

”But I’ve had a loooong day,” you pouted, shoulders sagging down even more.

”Yeah, I know sis, but you gotta sit still a little longer,” Sam coaxed you, rubbing your shoulder.

You looked deep into his hazel eyes. He was 14, you 21, and you were the one that acted like a baby. And even though you practically ran the household and took care of him ever other hour of your life, you still felt guilty.

But you were too confused and tired to do anything about it.

You reached up a slack hand and placed it on his cheek. ”You cute,” you smiled.

Later that night, when John had headed out as usual, you, Sam and Dean all sat on one of the beds, curled up closely without thinking of it. You were watching some random 80s movie on the small motel room TV that probably originated from the very same decade.

”Thank you for taking care of us,” Dean mumbled to you sometime after Sam had fallen asleep, head resting against your shoulder. ”I mean, you work your ass off, and we appreciate it. We really do. Thanks.”

”’S no problem,” you grinned softly in return through the darkness, the moving scenes on the TV lighting up your face a little bit. ”My pleasure.”

Dean grinned back at you, before turning his head towards the TV again, before whispering one last thing. ”Yeah, you say so.”

Tags: @winchesters-favorite-girl​ @straightasdeanwinchester​ @27bmm​ @evyiione​ @samanddeanshotsis​ @darkestgrungeuniverse @fabulouslycassie​ @delessapeace-blog @mariairwin666​ @1amluke​ @saveprettydays @cookee50 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @infamati–et–obliterati @stillcooli0 @sammysbeanie @ocean-calls-me @deepbreathssammy @extreme-supernatural-lover @mogaruke @winchestersmut @i-kdog-posts @steve-rogcrs @wordshowers @jjsoccer11 @ivebeenraisedfromperdition @bluecookiesandbooks @disappointeddinosaur @nicolevanderstar @frayedphan @jared-jensen-misha-are-lovelyy @straightestgay-voice @legend-o-zelda @holysheeppanda @mynameisdesolation @to-stars-and-back @forevershadeddark @stonergirl4life95 @wxnchestervevo @captainemwinchester @rosie-winchester @justanotherwinchester @violinmyhead @magical-cas @quackerstheduck663057 @falloutofmymemez @messy-buns-and-shotguns @assbutt-still-in-hell @phonegalhelp @lemonadegazeelle @stilesneedsprotection @mcallmestiles @wishedworld @catstielanddeanthedog @foe-throughthetrees 

If you want on or off the taglist(s), just send me an ask! If you change your url and still want to be tagged, please tell me! It’s REALLY hard to keep track of.

I’ve also crossed out the urls that I can’t tag for some reason. I don’t know why, if they deleted their accounts, if they switched urls, or if it just doesn’t work. If you happen to see your old url here, you would be doing me a HUGE favor by telling me that you’ve changed it.

[stephengream]

Advice to CompSci students and recent graduates

I thought I’d give some advice to people from a seasoned engineer. I’ve been in computing since I was 19, so nearly 10 years now, and I did this when I actually used tumblr regularly and got a fair few reblargs about 5 years ago, so I thought I’d repeat it now that I’m a little older an more jaded and see how we go. So let’s get started!

UNIVERSITY DEGREES DON’T MATTER IN THE LONG TERM

This is probably the hardest thing to swallow. You work your ass off for 3 or 4 years at university for what? A bit of paper? Truth be told, after a couple of years working nobody will care, and it will count for naught.

NOBODY GIVES A SHIT ABOUT YOUR MARKS... IF YOU’VE BEEN WORKING

Want to know my average mark? Somewhere in the 65-70% region. I pulled a Credit or distinction for most courses. What did I learn? Some fun stuff, but not much of it was useful outside algorithms, software construction and design. The other courses I did were cool, but I learned way more by diving into relevant open source projects.

To be completely honest, the best engineer I know is a university drop out, so don’t sweat it if you fail a course or two. With some work there’s still going to be pathways for you.

As a thought experiment, put yourself in the shoes of a potential employer. They have two candidates, someone like me, not getting great marks, but has been working nearly fulltime through university and has a great reference from his old boss, and someone with no work experience but a straight 90% average mark. Who is a less risky choice? 

The person with the job has worked with computers in a practical setting, outside the lab, and had to deal with the consequences of his or her decisions in real life. The person that’s concentrated on uni? Sure, they be smart, but have they ever had to deal with a stakeholder? Have they had to create actual working pipelines for their work? Have they ever had to support and maintain any of their code after an assignment? 

Who will take less time to get up to speed in this situation? My advice is that if you enjoy study, great, whatever, but remember that universities will never drop you in a situation where everything is burning down and expect you to fix it. The earlier you learn to cope with that scenario, the better, and as it becomes a routine thing you will start to form practical links between your study and useful information, thereby beefing up your marks with minimal extra study.

MANAGE AND TRACK YOUR TIME

This isn’t what your parents tell you, "you spend too much time playing computer games and on that god awful tumblr site” is an astute observation, but not something you can really action in isolation. What is useful, however, is knowing how you spend your time and how you can optimise it. This is perhaps the most difficult thing to do, because it’s tedious and boring, but even just setting your timetables and work times in your calendar as a recurring event can help, and from there you can start to have a better idea of how much time you actually have to spare every day. Get into the habit of this, and I promise you, you will never run late or work overtime ever again.

MAKE NOTES ON WHAT YOU’RE DOING

Lectures, eh, I never found notes that useful since they were all recorded. Personal taste though, I know a lot of people that lived in their notebooks.

That being said, I do keep a very tight grip on my design and implementation decisions. I like using OneNote for this, because I can quickly scribble down ideas and to-do lists, and paste in code snippets for later. Another program that could work is Scrivener, and one of my classmates even kept an Excel spreadsheet with a workbook for each thing he was working on (I suppose you could use something like KEdit or Atom, but I like to lay things out in a very specific way so I don’t have to scan through anything. Find what works for you and keep it that way). When it comes time to stand up in front of my team and tell them about the project, I can always answer any question thrown at me. I don’t have to sit there thinking about it and trying to remember exactly why I chose library A over library B or why I thought this class was garbage and restructured it.

CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS A CHANCE FOR YOU TO IMPROVE AS AN ENGINEER, IF YOU GET HUFFY YOU’RE MISSING OUT ON A GREAT OPPORTUNITY

Leave your ego at the door and be a team player. You’re never going to be alone on a project, and you’ll do well to listen to your teammates and converse with them in calm terms. 

If you get upset every time someone makes a suggestion on how to improve your Already Perfect Code™, not only are you going to look like a pompous dick but you’re going to completely reject this lesson someone is offering you for free. Everybody is there to get their job done, and if you get in the way and refuse to compromise and discuss your implementations you can’t expect to keep your job for long.

The flip side to this is that not all advice is good. In time you will learn to recognise this, because shitty advice will make your job harder, but when you’re just starting out it’s best to assume people probably know something you don’t.

CODING STYLE AND NAMING STANDARDS MATTER

You want to know what the stupidest argument on the internet is? Tabs v spaces. It gets nasty, and I saw classmates in uni get into yelling matches. My opinion is I’m a spaces guy, but I do what the rest of the team does. Why? Because consistency.

Have you ever opened up an old project you worked on at uni with a few different people and thought “oh dear god, what were we thinking”? I can assure you that part of this mess will be down to the different styles you all employed in your code. When doing this in a professional setting, it needs to be consistent to ease readability and ensure the team doesn’t misinterpret code. The lucky thing is, all the best IDEs have plugins that will do all this for you and throw warnings when something isn’t right.

PEOPLE SKILLS ARE PARAMOUNT

This doesn’t apply to everyone, but I know that a lot of us are basement dwelling nerds, but being awkward is something you need to get past. Working in software is just as much about your interactions with people as it is how good you are at making computers do what you want. How can you expect to get a good list of requirements from a client if you’re too shy to ask them tough questions? How do you function in a team if you can’t communicate with the people assigned to help you on a problem? 

This is definitely something that can be learned if you put some work in. The way I did was just to hit it head on on the job and start out just trying to reword what the client was telling me they wanted. It’s not ideal, but it took a lot of awkwardness out of the exchanges I had. From there, I just started talking to people in bars, not hitting on anyone, just chatting while we were in line for a drink or something. Didn’t have to be anything specific, I just said the first thing that came to mind, and boy did I spill the spaghetti more than a few times. But you know what? I learned from it, and become much better at at least pretending I wasn’t a giant, awkward weirdo, which leads me to my next point...

ADMIT YOUR MISTAKES EARLY AND LEARN FROM THEM 

You will fuck up. You are not perfect. Do not double down, especially when you’re brand new to the workforce and everyone will grant you three times the patience they’d grant to someone like me. Every time you screw something up, you will learn way more than if you did it right first time, so don’t sweat it and learn how to admit to your own failures and work on fixing them rather than learning how to cover them up.

DON’T BE AFRAID TO MOVE ON

‘nuff said. Always keep abreast of the job market and have your resume ready to go with a number of cover letters for different types of employers. Consider this a risk management and profit maximisation strategy if nothing else, and always know how much you’re worth to the company you work for (and be honest to yourself about it). In saying this, though, I tend to aim for a minimum 2 years with a company outside of contracts. It takes a while to onboard someone and bring them up to speed, especially in software, so be mindful of how it would look if you moved around too much.

This point is something I can definitely reinforce with my own personal experiences. I’ve been through 2 redundancies up until now, and both were for similar reasons, in that I was cheap to move off the work roster. My first I was on casual time, so wasn’t legally entitled to any redundancy payout, and the second because I’d only been with the company for a year and was only entitled to a small payout. 

The other thing to note here is that if you work for a small company, chances are someone high up will do the firing personally. For me it was the CEO in both situations, so don’t burn your bridges here and be an ass. A personal endorsement from a C level executive will net you serious credit and at least an extra $5-10k at your next position, so be professional and make sure that’s the image of you they keep in mind when someone comes ringing for a reference.

LEARN AUTOMATED TESTING

If you’ve never worked in a real setting, this probably sounds stupid. 

“Why would I write tests when I can just run the application and look at the output myself?”

Oh my sweet, summer child.

This one will come in handy for when you’re sick of spending 5 minutes loading up an application, clicking through and getting your inputs right, then waiting for it to finish. There are many different schools on how to do this, but truth be told even though nearly every company does it, most people on a team will do it slightly differently. 

I’m of the school that will figure out the outputs for each component, write the skeleton for each one, then write the tests after having a basic implementation in place. This works for me, because I will often change the architecture and interfaces of an application as I go along and learn more about the problem domain.

On the other hand, my teammate will write the tests before she does anything else and generate stubs for everything she has to do. This is also a perfectly valid way of doing things and one I’ve seen used a lot, but it does require a more in depth plan and better understanding of what you’re putting into place before your fingers even start to tap out that code.

The third “correct” way of doing it is developing the tests as you go along, which is also perfectly valid, though I find with the way I work it adds a lot of overhead in my development time.

The process here is a personal one, and I’ve had a lot of heated debates in the past with zealots who insist on a particular way. Don’t be that guy, because as far as I’m concerned you need to find out which way works for you and stick to it while letting other people be productive in the way they do things.

SHITTY LANGUAGES THAT EVERYONE USES OFTEN HAVE AWESOME TOOLSETS AND ECOSYSTEMS

Yes, Java is shit, I know, but have you ever used Gradle?

How about JavaScript? Node is popular for a very good reason, you know.

Before completely dismissing a technology, be sure to check out what people are doing on the edges. I was a .NET programmer for many years and was locked into the absolutely amazing C# language, but the horrendous MSBuild build system. I started looking over the Java side of the fence and found a wonderful ecosystem full of amazing tools and even more amazing and dedicated developers maintaining them. 

The rule of thumb is, if the language is shitty, people will build some cool tools around it to overcome its limitations. If the language is good, it can be a victim of its own success in a lot of ways. Don’t just look at a language, much sure you look at the tools that come with it, too

READ AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE

Yes, this is where I crack out Stephen’s must read list: Software edition.

Code Complete - Seriously THE book for amazing software construction. I’ve read my copy many times and keep it handy to refer back to it a lot

Introduction to Algorithms - The only textbook from uni I keep coming back to. An absolute treasure trove of great info, and provides insight into why your application is running really slowly or blowing out its memory heap

 Introduction to the Personal Software Process - Want to be a better engineer? Read this, and figure out the best bits that apply to you. It’s bureaucratic, but it’s where I got my obsessive note taking and time tracking from and I stand by it as one of the best process oriented books I’ve ever read

Refactoring to Patterns - Your code is garbage, but you can’t quantify exactly what’s wrong with it? This is the book for you, and as a bonus it will help you fix it in a sensible way. Great as a reference, and I keep the quick reference list from the inside cover in my laptop bag.

Patterns of Enterprise Architecture and Enterprise Integration Patterns - These are fucking cumbersome tomes and very difficult to slog through, but will serve you well with some of the stupid, overengineered crap people have done in larger systems. 

Continuous Integration - This is what’s done in the real world. Learn what it is and how to do it.

Continuous Delivery - Some places do this, but most really need to start. This book is a little enthusiastic about it, but the points it makes in regards to delivery methodology are spot on

The Lean Startup - You want to start your own million dollar company? Of course you do. Read the shit out of this one and learn what it means to be a customer driven, adaptive company. It will also serve you well working in agile teams, as you can help institute better processes and understand why things are done in certain ways.

Risk and the Smart Investor - “Yeah man, but I’m a free spirit hacktivist and I’m going against the man I don’t need money row row fight the powah”. Yeah, ok, I was young and unemployed at one point too. When you’re ready to be an adult and learn how to make your money work for you, spend the $20 on this book instead of Twitter or Yahoo shares. It walks you through various ways of hedging your risk and diversifying investments while also telling you the stories of two men who have lived very different lives and how they’ve spent and invested their money. If you want to make sure you don’t get suckered into a get rich quick scam and have a little nest egg put away for your twilight years, this is vital reading.

And that’s about all I can think of right now. I will try to blog more, I have some ideas for some home projects that I want to pursue over the next couple of weeks so I can get some things straight before I need to do them at work, so will probably write about them. Lately my routine has been wake up at 6:30, at work by 7:30, come home 5:30-6, go to the gym for an hour, come home, practice guitar for an hour or two, then go to bed. Absolutely thrilling lifestyle, but it should start to slow down in a little soon as I settle into this new job. 

[babylon-bitch]

Just Friends ~Is She Even Still Alive? (Part 31)

*trigger warning*

A/N: no trying to romanticize this in any way, just need people to understand that

Harper White is best friends with Luke Hemmings, they always have been. Not only is she friends with the rockstar, but with the rest of 5 Seconds Of Summer, as well as a really nice girl named Erika.

Harper has a few secrets, she can play all the instruments the boys play and many more. It’s a talent she has kept hidden, only very few people know.

What will happen to the six teens, wondering around the world together?

***

Luke’s p.o.v.

I’m currently playing guitar in my room, I can’t sleep so I may as well. I’ve had this one person stuck in my head all day, I mean, when is she not, but even more so today.

I just miss everything being in control and calm, but it’s like a tornado has come along and disrupted everything. Harper liked my picture earlier, so it’s good to know she still thinks of me.

No one has any idea where she is, she’s not at school either. There’s been a few pictures of her with fans or fans have taken of her. Nothing I can recognise, I saw that she wore my flannel the other day, that put a smile on my face, I’ve been looking for that for weeks.

Erika is really upset at her, and is fuming. Frustrated is the word, I think we all are a bit. Some more than others, I can see why though.

I’m not sure if she knows how loved she is from us all.

My phone starts ringing and I place my guitar besides me. Looking at the caller ID, I see that it’s Sarah. My heart stops, because she told me she would call me if there was something about Harper she was allowed to tell me.

Slowly swiping across and holding the phone to my ear, I hear her sniffles and I feel myself stiffen.

“Hello.” I greet.

“L-Luke, it’s H-Harper.” She stutters.

Immediately I get up and start to walk out my door.

“Is she okay? What happened.” I question.

“No, p-please come over quickly, the ambulance is on its way, I-I’ll explain when you get here, or you could see for yourself.” She panics.

“Okay, I’ll be over in a minute.” I rush and end the call.

Rushing down the stairs and into the lounge where my parents are. “Something has happened to Harp, I’m going over, I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Uh, okay, keep me updated.” She says a bit confused.

“Bye.” I call as I jog out the door.

Running across the road and up the pavement.

In a matter of seconds, I reach Harper’s house. Ringing the door, I wait for it to open, almost immediately it opens and Sarah stands there, tears running down her face.

“Thank God you’re here.” She hugs me and I hug her back.

“What happened?” I ask, rubbing my hand up and down her back.

“S-she d-d-did, I can’t s-say, go into the bathroom upstairs, be prepared.” She sobs.

I look at her and slowly nod.

Warily walking up the stairs and turning to the first door on the left. I see her dad leaning on the door to their room. Ignoring him for now and pushing the bathroom door open.

My heart sinks and my breathe hitches.

I let out a whimper and tears pool in my eyes.

Why have they just left her like this, why aren’t they helping her or doing anything?

Harper lies on the floor, blood surrounding her and it’s in her hair. The source of it all looks as if it’s coming from her arm.

She relapsed.

Razor blades are thrown across the room, draws are pulled out, blood is everywhere.

How long has she been like this? She’s lost a load of blood by the looks of it, and is as white as a sheet. Is she even still alive?

Kneeling beside her and placing my fingers on her pulse, it’s still going slowly.

What do I do? Do I help her or leave it for all the doctors?

I think blood is still seeping out of the cut, but I can’t quite see because there is so much blood in the way. Grabbing a flannel and just trying to clean up her arm. Cringing at how many others there are.

She cut way too deep, I didn’t know she was this bad. I didn’t know anything to be honest.

“Baby girl.” I whisper and cup her face.

What happened? She clearly cut herself, then she lost a lot of blood, and then passed out? I really don’t know.

“Uh, Luke, the ambulance has arrived.” Sarah tells me.

“Yeah o-okay.” My voice shaky.

I kiss her forehead and stand up, walking out of the bathroom and standing next to Sarah.

“Do you t-think, she um, tried to take her own life?” I question.

“I don’t have a clue, we went out for dinner, then I went to get in the shower, and I found her like this. I screamed and called Andrew, he immediately called an ambulance. We didn’t know what to do, so we just left her.”

The paramedics come up the stairs holding bags and a stretcher. They lift her limp body onto the stretcher and carrying her out.

A paramedic comes up to us.

“Who are you guys to her?” He asks.

“I’m her mother.” Sarah says.

“And I’m her uh boyfriend.” I tell him.

Although, I’m not sure what we are.

“What do you guys know about this all?” He questions.

“She has a history of depression and self harm, we came home and she was lying on the ground, blood pooled around her.” She replies.

“We are going to treat her and run some tests, she might’ve injured something when she fell. Your husband is going in the ambulance with your daughter, you should probably come to the hospital. She lost a lot of blood, I’m just warning you.” He explains.

“Okay, thank you for your help.” Sarah gives him a sad smiles and he rushes down the stairs and out the door.

“Do you wanna come with me?” She offers.

“Of course.” I answer and we walk down the stairs. Sarah goes and fetches her car keys.

I can’t believe this.

“Here we go, don’t worry Luke, she’ll be fine.” She reassures.

“How do you know that though?” I question. “If she dies, it’s my fault. Harper was getting better when she came to visit us on tour, then I start an argument, that causes us to take a break. Then she does a runner and I find her like this. Do you know how guilty I feel? I caused this, I caused her to disappear off the face of the earth, then sink back into depression. I never want to see my girlfriend, best friend, soulmate in that state of mind. She’s almost as bad as she was when she was 16.” I let it all out.

“Harper will fight through this for you. You’re the light of her life, you’re the most important person to her! Almost everything she does is for you.” She claims.

“Really?”

“Yes! She relies on you to make her better, she trusts you, she will do anything for you, and she hopes for you to do the same. Harper loves you, she wouldn’t even dare to blame this on you. Harper is clearly going through some stuff right now, and you need to be a good boyfriend or best friend, I don’t know what you guys are doing.”

“Lets go.” I dismiss.

I hear her sigh before following me to her car. “Should I call the others and tell them or leave it for tonight?” I ask.

“It’s up to you hun.” She shrugs.

“I’ll call them.” I reply.

Pulling out my phone and pressing Michael’s contact. Holding the phone to my ear, listening to the beeps.

It rings for a while before he finally picks up. “Dude why I you calling me at 12:15?” He groggily ask.

“Harper, she s-she relapsed.”

“What?” He questions.

“Harper is back home a-”

“Woo! How long has she been here? Where was she?” He cuts me off.

“Michael, listen to me. Harper, she um, self harmed and lost a lot of blood. She collapsed and no one k-”

“Luke, breathe.” He says.

“Right, just meet me at the hospital and tell the others if you can.” I direct.

“Okay, chill man, take it easy.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, bye.”

Ending the call and running my hand through my hair. “You alright?” Sarah ask.

“As much as I can be I guess, you?”

“It’s my own daughter we’re talking about. I don’t even know the situation she is in. I don’t know if she is dancing on death’s door, or is completely fine and is awake. Hopefully the latter. I feel like a really shite mum, not knowing she was in this state of mind. She promised me she wouldn’t doing anything like this.” Sarah replies.

“I think she made promises to us all after last time, but they’ve all been broken. I’m not going to be mad or disappointed in her, just a little upset that she had to go through this on her own.” I sigh. “Where was she this whole time?”

“England.”

Of course, of fucking course. How did I not figure that out? That’s where most of her family is, so it would make sense to go there.

“Ohhh, of course. What happened whilst she was there?” I question.

“Harper actually willingly went to therapy. She didn’t do much really, she spent most of her time at Lauren’s house. Harper went for a night out with Laura, Delilah, and Delilah’s boyfriend. Then again she could be lying, and she actually went off the rails.”

So that’s who that dude was.

“Did she tell you she’s been doing driving lessons?” Sarah asks.

“Woah really? She always said she was too busy. I’ve thought about getting my licence, but I don’t have the time. How long has she been doing them.” I ask.

“When you first started tour. I think she only started them to keep her mind off of you guys.” She answers.

Sarah parks the car and huffs, before resting her head on the steering wheel.

“Harper’s strong, really strong, she used to beat me at arm wrestles, she’ll get through this.” I reassure.

“Thanks Luke.” She smiles.

We get out the car and make our way to hospital doors.

I go sit down whilst Sarah goes to the receptionist.

I lean my head back on to the wall and look up at the ceiling, trying not to cry. I haven’t cried yet, I’ve had tears in my eyes, but they haven’t fallen. Yet. Taking a deep breath and letting it go out of my cheeks.

“She still hasn’t woken up, Harper also injured her head, she’s getting stitches.” Sarah gives me a run down.

“How bad is her head?” I ask.

“I don’t know, love. It could be just a concussion to a bleed on the brain. They said they’re gonna to do some tests and scans.”

“What happened?” A voice rushes from next to me.

Looking to my left I see the guys and Erika. “Thank God you’re here.” I sigh in relief.

“Hello Mrs. White.” Calum smiles.

“Harper, um, relapsed.  She self harmed and cut way too deep, collapsed onto the ground, and we just heard that she has injured her head. It was bad guys, really bad. Blood all around her and in her hair, razor blades thrown across the room, draws all pulled out.” I say.

“How is she now?” Michael asks.

“We don’t really know, she’s not awake yet.”

“Where was she this whole time?” Ashton questions.

“England.” I tell them.

“Of course.” Calum sighs.

“Is she going to be okay?” Erika speaks up.

“We don’t know.” I sadly state.

They all take a seat opposite us and I continue to glare at the floor. “Did any of you guys know she was this bad?” Sarah pipes up.

“We didn’t know anything, she kinda shut us all out these past couple of weeks. We knew she wasn’t her usual happy self, but we didn’t think she was this bad.” Michael claims.

“I kind of feel guilty for not noticing any of this.” Calum says.

“Did something happen whilst we were on tour?” Ashton questions.

“Not that I know of, she went back home the day after she came back from visiting you guys, depressed as hell. Went to therapy whilst she was over there, talked a lot to Lauren, her auntie, also a lot to Delilah and Laura. Unless something happend over there, or whilst she was visiting you guys, I really don’t have a clue.” Sarah shrugs.

“Harper actually went to therapy?” Ashton exclaims.

“Yeah, we were all very proud of her. She said it worked for a while, but she just sunk deeper after.”

“I think I contributed to a lot of a it.” I chime in.

“No Luke,” Michael shakes his head.

“If we didn’t have that argument, none of this would’ve happened. We all know things won’t be the same after this, it’s going to take at least a month for things to be some what normal again. I fucked this all up.” I blurt out.

***

It’s the next day now and I’ve been by Harper’s side ever since we’ve been allowed to see her.

She lost a load of blood and had to have a blood transfusion. Harper has a concussion as well, so she scraped by and is pretty much alright.

Well…

She’s still not awake yet, and they haven’t told me why. They said Harper is going to need some help mentally, I don’t know what exactly. Probably just therapy.

Picking up her hand and intertwining it with mine, bringing her hand up to my lips. Kissing it and holding it there for a few more seconds.

A tear drops onto my arm and I realise I’m crying. This girl has turned me into an emotional wreck.

It’s just me here, everyone went home. I told her parents to go home and that I’ll call them if anything happens, after much persuasion, they finally went home. Same with the guys and Erika, although, something seems off with Erika. She seems pissed off, it’s really not the time.

Everything has been so hectic recently.

Michael brought a guitar over earlier on today, and left it here. I’m not sure if it was intentional or if he just forgot it. Picking up the acoustic guitar and resting it on my leg, looking down at the frets.

“You can rest your head upon my chest I feel warmer with you there Go to sleep my love

I’ll watch over us Drift to a peaceful place There’s no rush for you to wake With your eyes closed and me as your pillow Feel as though you were made to fit me Through your gentle breathe I exhale my stress I know I’ll find contentment in these sheets You’re the escape from my daily routine The calm in my storm you comfort me

So I’ll lie here So I’ll lie here If I could describe this moment It’s a unique feeling I’m noting

Although my hearts been broken Wounds from others are closing You whisper my name as you begin to wake It’s the sweetest sound reminding me that You’re the escape from my daily rountine The calm in my storm you comfort me So I’ll lie here So I’ll lie here

If I could change the weather I’d be making it rain So we could take shelter in this place Feeling your heartbeat is all I need

You’re the escape from my daily routine The calm in my storm you comfort me You’re the escape from my daily rountine The calm in my storm you comfort me

So I’ll lie here I’ll lie here Oh I’ll lie here I’ll lie here With you With you.”

It’s a song I’ve been working on, this is just on a guitar, I’ll add some bass and some kicks of the drums.

“I hope that one day, you’re as happy as you’re pretending to be.” I speak.

Harper deserves the world, yet she gets this. What did she do to deserve this? Harper is just an innocent girl that gets treated like shit.

“I still love you, I know these past few weeks haven’t been all that great for us, but I want- no need you to know that I love you. Please wake up, we’ll start again, please for me.” I beg. “Did you know we’ve only been dating for 3 just about 4 months? It feels like we’ve been dating for years. We practically have to be honest.”

“C'mon, wake up and I’ll try my best to make you better. I need my partner in crime and so do you,” I sigh. “I’m not mad or angry at you by the way. Yeah, I’m upset that you had to turn to this, instead of me or the others, but I can forgive you. You have to promise me Harper that you’ll never do this again. I don’t think I could handle seeing the person I love so much, hurt so much, yet so lifeless again. You’ve been a mess recently, but you’re my mess. There’s a lady looking at me, and I think she thinks I’m insane practically talking to myself. You’re here physically and your spirit is here, but I’m kinda starting to feel that this conversation is a bit on sided. You could wake up, and it won’t be.”

“I know things are going to be different when you wake up and are back on your feet, but we can get through this together. I already broke my promise about not letting you fall again, but I pinky promise you, that I won’t this time. I can’t handle it again. Despite being a really shit boyfriend recently, you’re still my best friend, and that’ll never change. I’ve built my whole life around you, and if you leave, everything will fall down.”

“You haven’t just got me, you’ve got Michael, Ashton, Calum and Erika. Everyone around you will help you. Although, I’m warning you now, Erika seems pissed, did something happen between you two or something? Whatever happened, I’m sure she will still help and love you.”

“I’m gonna go get a bottle of water, and if you wake up, that’s just cruel.” I warn.

I stop tracing patterns on her hand and untangle our hands.

***

It’s the next day and everyone is here again.

“So when is she going to wake up?” Erika asks.

“We don’t have a clue, they haven’t even told us why.” I say.

“She is definitely gonna wake up, right?” Calum questions.

“Probably.” Sarah nods.

“Hello everyone, we need to run some tests, so we need some space for a while. So if everyone could go out the room, please.” Dr Khan asks.

We all look at each other confused, but reluctantly walk out and into the corridor.

Harper’s p.o.v.

White.

Not just my surname, but the colour I’m seeing, some black lines at the top. An overwhelming smell of cleaning products and coffee.

Blinking quite harshly until my eyesight is clear. Where am I? I see a man standing to my right with an ever so serious and concentrated look on his face as he writes something down on a clipboard, a woman at the foot of what ever I’m on, talking to the man.

I let out a long groan. Their heads snap towards me, and I’m surprised their necks didn’t snap. “Where am I? Where’s Luke?” I question.

“Hello Harper. You’re in the hospital, I’m Dr. Khan and this is Dr. Norris.” He explains.

“Okay, where’s Luke? Where’s my boyfriend Luke? Oh, and Calum?” I ask, completely ignoring what he just said.

“How are you feeling?” The lady questions, doing what I just did.

“Where’s Luke? I need Luke.” I groan.

I want Luke here, he makes me feel better.

“Can you just work with us for five minutes?” Dr. Khan asks.

“Luke, I need him. Please can I have Luke?” I request, my eyes starting to get teary.

“Luke’s not here.” The lady says.

“You’re lying, I’ve heard him talking to me.” I tell them.

Dr. Khan sighs and they give each other a look. Dr. Norris walks away. “Luke’s coming. So how are you feeling?” He asks.

“Thank you. Um, alright, shouldn’t I be?” I warily question.

“Okay, great. Luke will explain what happened.”

I furrow my eyebrows and rub my forearm, and that make me hiss in pain. “I wouldn’t touch that are if I were you.” He warns.

I would look down, but I don’t think I have enough energy to. Last time that happened, I found out I had a tattoo of Luke’s initials.

“Where’s Luke? You said you were getting him.” I whine.

“She’s awake?” A familiar voice exclaims.

“She wouldn’t do anything without you.” Dr. Norris chuckles.

“Luke.” I groan and attempt to lift my arm but fail.

“I’m here, babe.” He assures and takes my hand in his.

“Um, I’m gonna need you to explain what happened. We’ll give you some time.” Dr. Khan tells Luke.

“Uh, okay.” Luke replies but it comes out as a question.

Dr. Khan nods at Luke before collecting his clipboard and walking out the door with Dr. Hart.

“Luke, what happened? Where am I?” I begin to panick.

“Harper, Harper,” Luke stops me and puts a hand on my stomach. “Calm down, it’s okay, it’s all going to be okay.” He kisses my hand. “What do you remember?” He ask.

“Uh, um, g-going into the bathroom a-and… doing some… stuff.”

“Yes. You cut way too deep and collapsed, hitting your head on the way down. No one knows how long you were alone for, but your parents came home from dinner and your mum found you laying unconscious on the ground, in a pool of your own blood. She called me, I ran over to your house, and saw how you were.” He tells me and his eyes unfocus, and I know he is thinking back on what he saw. “Anyway, I stayed with you until the ambulance came. Eventually they came and rushed you to the hospital. You lost a lot of blood Harper, you had to have a blood transfusion. You have a concussion and had to have stitches. You got off lucky Harper.” He explains.

I blink dumbfoundedly, silence creeps over us. “What were you thinking? Did you, uh, t-try to take your own life?” He questions.

“I wasn’t thinking, I just needed something to take me away, weather it was forever or just a few hours, I needed something quickly.” I reply and avoid his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Or at least someone else, we could’ve helped you.” He says in pain.

“I wasn’t ready to face you guys yet. I was really guilty about leaving everyone without contacting any of you guys.”

“What really happened in England?”

After contemplating weather to make up a lie or tell the truth, I choose truth.

“I was a mess Luke. I went out one night and shit happened. Don’t worry, I didn’t cheat on you or anything, I just made some stupid choices. I went to therapy, you probably know that, didn’t work that well. I was a car crash, an absolute mess.  I tried to put on a fake smile for everyone, but I was actually breaking.”

Silence comes over us again, it’s no the normal silence it’s the deafening silence.

“I get it if you want to break up with me. Why would you even go out with a someone as pathetic as me, anyway?” I break the deafening silence.

“What? No, I’m not going to break up with you, not now, not ever. You’re not pathetic, you’re a teenage girl going through some shit. Luckily for you, you’ve got some fantastic friends, to help you through it all.”

“Ya know, I could hear everything you were saying, I just couldn’t respond vocally or physically. That song, dear God, was great.” I tell him.

“You actually heard everything?” He exclaims.

“It was like I was having a lucid dream.”

“Luckily I didn’t say anything bad about you.” He chuckles.

“Yeah.” I laugh. “Could you lift my arm up?” I ask.

“Um, sure.”

He lifts it up and I examine my arm, they look ugly. Still red and raw. My arm way already quite… messy, but now it looks like a tornado came and chopped my arm up.

“They’re awful.” I grunt.

“It doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

I sense him looking at me and I meet his gaze, scrutinizing my every movement. “I don’t love you for your appearance, I love you for you. Yeah, you are really pretty and elegant, but that’s just a bonus. I love you.”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

[tetroxy]

okay so

witch au how about that jon bluth

could be strilondes (not necessarily having them as one FAMILY but like,, a coven,, a clan,,,, a gathering,,,, i dont know) who knows

obvi im cashing in on roxy (dirk youre not allowed to read this line if youre reading this)

but like,,,

we could do the modern witch take  so like cool shit where weve got graffiti witches who only need to use one can and yet paint galaxies and shit in amazing detail purely with magic and its hella awesome or like we have witches who manipulate electricity or can turn themselves into electricity to move through wires and shit and sneak around (shit that sounds bad ass id pay for that) have their herbs and shit in plain sight in their gardens and shit  holy shit sentient plant monsters or something watermelon cats other stuff to be added here theres plenty of stuff for modern witches 

idk how to incorporate more traditional witches but we can assume grimoires demons and/or praying to pagan gods and shit really traditional stuff turning into four limbed animals etc etc

maybe both, split the strilonde clan due ot a Disagreement(tm) maybe and half the assholes are more modern and the other are more traditional or something

magic cats that idea should sell it goddamn everyone

markings and features that depend on how strong/whether the witch leans more towards a traditional magic or not witches with lightning scars bc they manipulate electricity or witches who have fucking plants growing out of them because theyre more traditional and focus on nature more  the more powerful and better grasp they have of their powers the more prominent these features become  witches with fucking animal abilities becoming more and more grotesque and more like the animals they favour and have to figure out ways to hide that

blood rituals for immortality  blood rituals in general i LOVE me some blood magic

could totally have witch hunters

shit we could flip this entirely and have the strilondes be the witch hunters question the lalondes have knitting needles and fucking guns but why do the striders only use swords does anyone research welsh swords for them or we are going default normal swords and katanas because welsh swords can look very different  anyway

witch hunter strilondes who have built up an immunity to witch poisons through generations of hunting and exposure to them when young

witch hunter strilondes who have haunted weapons that help them hunt down witches (guardians in the swords mayhaps? somehow has access to the internet despite being probably some shitty weapons?)

mom lalonde and grandpa harley stand off (listen ive a strong love and desire for stuff between these two since i found out its canon he raised her and in something like this there is opportunities for so much angst)

lalondes not being trusted because one was raised by a witch

lalondes working extra hard to prove theyre trust worthy

witch and hunter show downs 

ESPIONAGE 

even the occasional indulgent high school or university moment where witches and hunters dont know theyre witches and hunters or do know but need each other to get through this damn class or something 

necromancy

various weapons from various moments in time cross bows, bows, guns, swords, dirks, daggers, knives, grenades, really sharp fans with the metal in them, throwing knives, etc

holy shit time shenanigans strilondes getting thrown back in time and have to get back to the future via cooperati- just kidding they murder some witches until one of them sends them back home cooperation and setting aside differences is for the weak

dirk if youre reading this you cant tell me how close im getting to making as many roxys as you have striders

settling down after a long night witch hunting kicking back having idk  some fucking whats a drink people have coke or whatever no one drinks pepsi anymore vanilla coke (best) and regaling awesome hunts that happened years ago or just happened that night

training montages that can only happen in our heads but are still awesome 

disagreements get sorted out with duels whoever loses has to either provide substantial evidence as to why theyre right or everyone has to get over it and the argument is never allowed again ever not even mentions of it i swear to god not even asks from anons can be published im not doing what happens right now in this au again 

robots

ROBOTS

FUCKING ROBOTS LETS HAVE SOME AWESOME ASF ROBOTS UP IN HERE

robots made to help train the hunters but merely either a) is too weak and hence simply becomes like a buddy b) too strong only one person can take them and just barely or c) literally tries to kill everyone so no one uses them

imagine some dirk and hal sibling rivalry i cant make it needed or mandatory or whateve rbut im just having fun imagining them parkouring to try and beat each other to a mark and shit talking each other on the way but thats just me and can be disregarded

surprise yet regular naps on each other are not questioned roxy/rose/momlalondes/brostriders/dirk/dave/hal/whoever im missing comes home one day and collapses on someone working (rose roxy mom lalondes hal dave dirk whoever im missing) and they simply continue doing what theyre doing because they know the job is rough and sleep isnt always available 

they all live together because it easier that way 

theres schedules on who gets to have the shower for however long rose and dirk disregard this (fuck dirk and his legendary showers we know you sleep in there)

the guardians are the only ones allowed to cook roxy always makes too much and rose makes something vaguely octopus like and unnatural so at least one person cries and accuses her of using witch heritage to sabotage the sacred meal (whether shes got magic in her is up for debate and no one wants to find out if she can just in case she poisons them all one day) 

sibling bonding between rose and roxy over wizards despite the fact that anything magic related has been banned by the guardians (except mom lalonde who is their supplier but only secretly)

no one wants to know who the father/mother is

no one gets to know who their father/mother is