#and andrew refusing to ignore it when NO ONE is taking him seriously enough to give HIM a logical reason to not worry 👁👄👁

[suncaptor]

The episode where everyone gaslights Deluca because he's has a few symptoms of mania (that are uhhhh not more severe than many of the nonpathological moods other characters on the show have had at different points) is SO upsetting like he tries so hard to protect this victim of human trafficking and no one believes him so she never gets help and then later on he literally gets killed too because of it 👁👄👁

[aledethanlast]

I want to clarify something about my Lawyer!Andrew post:

Andrew is not doing this to impress people. In fact he actively doesn't want to impress people. He is done being a superman who holds everyone's lives in his hands. It's not good for his mental health when he's doing it and it's not good for anyone when that he fails, because the law is too big and some of these fuckers are just legitimately dumber and more guilty than his literal murderous mafia husband.

Anyways. Andrew wakes up in the morning, goes to his closet and shoves aside the 15k dollar Armani suits so he can put on the two piece he got at Macy's (then tailored to fit, cause he still has standards), and a matching tie.

He goes to the office. Brad asks him if he heard about the latest draft picks. Andrew stares him down until Brad goes to Andrew's desk and drops a quarter in the "Asking Andrew about Exy" jar. Andrew's coworkers seem to think that he's gonna buy the office a Foosball table with the jar money. They are wrong. It is for a new cat tower. Also, no Andrew hasn't seen it, but he got the rundown from Neil and Kevin, so he knows enough to tell Brad not to bother with a season pass for the Sealions this year.

He has two cases to deal with today. The first is a vehicular manslaughter charge. The client is pleading self defense, and that the victim was a stalker. Andrew likes her because, despite bursting into tears every time they have a trial prep session, she actually listens to instructions and knows when to shut the fuck up. He's confident.

The second is grand larceny. The guy is so super incredibly guilty but Brad gave him this case because he knows Andrew loves police misconduct cases and this one is just so full of protocol breaches that Andrew only had to show Neil the file for him to burst out laughing.

Janet says he has a call waiting. Janet is the highest paid paralegal in the county, because she also filters his celebrity mail. Technically Neil's pr firm still represents him, but Janet knows to turn down the DA's gala invitations without needing to argue with him.

He picks up the phone. It's the DA. The man invites him to the police gala because he knows Andrew ignored the emails. Andrew assumes the man was banking on Andrew giving a polite refusal he can wheedle or harangue into compliance. The man is new to the job, so Andrew will forgive this embarrassing miscalculation.

They spend the next hour discussing court dates for a certain case. Andrew's client for that one is disabled and only has partial aid, and he won't let them set court dates that they know she won't be able to attend. The DA, despite his embarrassing naivate, seems to be on the same page in this regard, so hopefully this will go well when they bring the matter to the judge.

In the span of this phone call, two of Brad's clients come into the office, and within five minutes of walking in are made to contribute to the jar. They don't get their questions answered, because he's on the phone, and they're not Brad.

He has court tomorrow. Court is annoying, because it's a room full of strangers who hear his name and forget why he's there, and he's not allowed to bring the jar. Court is a chore, because he has to walk people through their own idiocy, and then occasionally convince the room of just how stupid or brilliant it actually was.

Court is also, maybe, just a teensy bit fun, because whatever the stereotype of a lawyer is, Andrew really isn't it, and that makes people take him a lot less seriously until he starts quoting their words back to them faster than the stenographer.

(Janet also filters job offers. They tend to crop up every few months.)

(It used to be more fun, back in the early days when Neil would sit in sometimes, until he remembered just how horrifically boring the whole thing is. But that's fine. Andrew is happy having his own thing.)

But really, court is easy. It's a place where your word has weight, where promises are binding, and when everything is going to shit, nobody looks at Andrew like he's the freak for keeping his head.

[bloodfiresandabram]

my favorite form of andreil angst fics is andrew setting a harsh and borderline cruel boundary during a hard moment, like for example telling neil that he doesn’t want to hear his voice on a day where he needs space and lashes out in order to get it, and neil respecting that boundary so intently, so determined to never cross a line, because he refuses to be someone who pushes past andrew’s boundaries but also because he doesn’t value himself and his needs and, like in the example above, he will respect whatever rule or line that andrew has given him to the point of his own detriment, so even though not talking to andrew makes him antsy and reminds him a lot of when he lied about everything and leaving the room when andrew is there to avoid accidentally speaking and upsetting him reminds him a lot of running away, he does it anyway, so neil starts to kinda spiral with that feeling of running and rabbit and liar and meanwhile andrew got the space he needed and he’s so used to people disregarding his requests that he basically “forgets” (dismisses, really, as something irrelevant and unimportant) that he told neil that in the first place because obviously no one would take that seriously, right? so now andrew thinks neil is ignoring him and avoiding him because neil leaves the room when he enters and won’t talk to andrew and andrew won’t force his presence or conversation onto neil if it isn’t wanted, plus he’s so used to being abandoned and thrown aside that his thoughts are turning towards the idea that neil is done with him and so he starts to basically avoid neil, too, you know?

so now there’s these two fucking dumbasses who are basically trying to give the other space under the presumption that that’s what the other wants even though both of them are suffering because of it, and maybe one of the other foxes intervenes or maybe andrew says something when neil becomes visibly unwell (neil won’t be the first to spark that conversation because he refuses to cross the line that he thinks it there, and andrew will only do so when he can see that neil is unwell, and even then he will probably do it in a somewhat snarky way, trying to put up a wall that he thinks it necessary because he thinks neil is done with him but he fucking cares, even though he hates how much he cares, but he does and so he says something like “did you forget enough basic human functions to forget how to eat” or something that’s supposed to be backhanded but isn’t, and when neil says nothing in return andrew will say something like “can you not be bothered to even respond?” and neil will have to fight that inner battle until he eventually does speak up to say “you told me you didn’t want to hear my voice” which is the last thing andrew expects him to say) but eventually they fill in the gaps

and then next time andrew will try not to say something so harsh on a bad day, but even if he does neil will know to text him the next day to see where he’s at, because they know they need their boundaries and their lines but they also know that those boundaries can bend depending on the day and it might be so fucking hard sometimes but they can find where the line is that day without hurting each other and they will, god fucking dammit, they fucking will

[kimwexlers-brownhair]

One of the reasons I reject the idea that Logan is always 100% plotting deliberate evil and Machiavellian ways to fuck over his children is that I think it gives him too much credit. Obviously, of course he does manipulate those around him and resents anyone in his circle ever attempting to take the spotlight, I’m not saying he doesn't. But to possess the absolute winning control and cunning Tom, Kendall, and the other characters believe he has discounts the fact he is almost always his own worst enemy, his own biggest stumbling block.

Where would he be without Colin handing out NDAs to people like Andrew Dodds when Logan throws public tantrums? Where would he be without Karolina smoothing over PR disasters? Where would he be without Gerri, Frank, Karl, and Laird working out the details in the background, handling "shit he doesn't want in his ear?" He himself can't see the bottom of the pool because he refuses to. He doesn't have the emotional capacity for it.

So no, I don't think he knew the full extent of what went on in cruises, but I don’t think that vindicates him. I think it speaks to his criminal negligence and impatience. He doesn't want to take the time to understand the full scope of the evil he's allowed to fester; easier to leave that to Gerri, Ken, and others to clean up behind his back.

Ironically, this is how he justifies sacrificing Ken in This is Not for Tears. It's also why he never seriously considers sacrificing himself even though Phillippe and the other shareholders want him to. He turns his willful ignorance into a virtue -- it's not that he wasn't equipped to handle the full scale of cruises, it's that everyone else took advantage of this "good Catholic boy", and so one of them deserves punishment, not him.

Logan's biggest asset is his personality, his ability to draw people in and then emotionally (and sometimes physically) terrorize them. Without that power, there's no way his family or employees would put up with his shit. As it is, they end up pulling the necessary strings for Logan, like weak parents doing anything to placate their spoiled child.

Logan knows the people in his orbit well enough to understand when to play his cards against them, but outside of that orbit he's not nearly the all-seeing God he's convinced them he is. The whole illusion would collapse without them there to support him, as he might find out when Matsson starts replacing them.

[darlingbudsofrae]

Aaron Minyard Appreciation Post

Foxes Appreciation Series : 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 ||

It is a truth universally acknowledged that out of everyone of the foxes, Aaron Minyard is without a doubt, the most overlooked, underappreciated, and hated one in the fandom.

Just seeing the landmine that is twitter brings ache to my heart.

This kid isn’t appreciated enough and it personally insults me.

Aaron Minyard has a traumatizing past- an abusive and alcoholic mom, struggled through drug addiction-

And considering his deal with Andrew we can assume that he didn’t really have any friends or someone to confide to.

This kid probably repressed all this trauma and had a hard time opening about it because being surrounded mostly by shitty adults, who can blame him?

He also doesn’t believe in therapy. 

The fact that he went with Andrew to Betsy’s and yes he was blackmailed for it but still, like at that point, you can’t honestly blame him for not believing it’ll work or that him and Andrew could actually fix whatever their problem is when Andrew had probably been ignoring him his whole life unless necessary.

Point is, he went and despite the circumstances, I refuse to believe that there wasn’t some inkling there of hope of mending broken bones, y’know?

This kid has a shitty past and it doesn’t really justify his actions but the amount of consideration people go through with the other foxes for their misbehaviors while just dismissing Aaron as an asshole without giving that same courtesy really sucks.

Aaron is the perfect example of do nine good things and have sex under the bridge one time and people would remember you for the latter.

I really wish people would give him the same consideration as others, or at least leave him alone if they can’t muster that much courtesy.

What I really appreciate about Aaron’s characters, similar to the other foxes, is how he strive to have that life. 

Like with a shitty past, it’s understandable that the people around him always doubt him and think he amounts to nothing but what did Aaron do?

He went to university on an exy scholarship and goes to pre-med.

Pre-med. Biochemistry- I had that course once back in my freshman year and I swear it was an absolute nightmare.

Imagining Aaron Minyard taking that up for five years, acing it, and playing exy on the side- 

Respecc

Like, no, seriously- this kid is working so hard to have a decent life and despite everything, he’s right there fighting for it and I just respect that so much.

There is nothing more admirable on a character for me than making an effort despite life getting in the way.

Because Aaron Minyard could have easily given up. He could have easily given in to the expectations or lack thereof for him.

But kid freaking played on collegiate exy and aced biochem at the same time.

And it’s not like he just played exy because of the scholarship, he’s actually a pretty decent backliner.

We really need more exy plays content.

Also, his character is very complicated and a part of me is really sad that we didn’t get any of him more (for redemption arc and just stuff) and the other foxes in the books.

Oh well.

“Looks like you've managed to completely embarrass yourself in both languages.”

My child has a few lines and he’s still savage af.

Imagine the chaos he and Neil will bring if they were actually friends or something.

Probably the reason why they’re not-

And yeah he’s a bit homophobic and I will never condone that

But most people forget that AFTG was set in 2006 - 2007 in South Carolina when y’know- it wasn’t really uncommon.

And I know that still sucks and it doesn’t cancel out the things he said but the kid was 20 at that time.

He's still growing as a person.

Also, he grew up in the same environment as Nicky.

Heck, he lived there longer.

He was surrounded by conservative Christian homophobes and add that with a lack of awareness towards LGBTQIAP+ matters that time—

I'm just saying, homophobia is most of the times instilled by society and it could actually be unlearned. 

Also, while the rest of the foxes were all worried about Andrew hurting Neil, Aaron was the only one there who was worried about Neil hurting Andrew.

I said what I said. 

I said this once but out of all the I'm fine or indications of being fine given in AFTG (mostly by Neil, especially by Neil), it was actually Aaron's that made me sob.

Like that night at thanksgiving when there was blood everywhere and poor kid is trembling because he just freaking killed someone and someone was messing with his brother and everything was a freaking mess and he doesn't know anything—

But his brother was tied up and everything and the first thing Andrew asked for was about him and of course he had to assure him he was fine.

I cried, I freaking cried.

I can never also emphasize enough how Aaron Minyard took one look at Dr*ke and straight-up killed him. We do not talk enough about this.

No one appreciates this enough.

No, seriously, I saw someone recently say why we're hyping up a murderer (you think I'm kidding but nope this person took the time to list Aaron’s flaws and one of them was “murderer”)

Like yeah, violence was kind of normal in AFTG cuz y'know—

But he freaking killed Dr*ke. Like he actually ended that MF and that was hands down one of the best things that happened in the books.

MF deserved to die and Aaron delivered.

And this is Aaron Minyard we're talking about.

The normal twin.

Despite his shitty past, this kid doesn't do violence. The extent of killing Dr*ke is honestly freaking heavy.

Like we're talking about psychological here, how he just recently found out that this has been happening to Andrew for years.

In psychology, there's this thing where we feel guilty for the things that happened to someone close to us even if we have no correlation to it.

There's also the killing itself— the effects of that like the nightmares.

Somewhere in TKM, Katelyn told Neil that Aaron gets headaches and nightmares about that night.

But this MF is willing to do it again because of course he does.

This precious smol bean I can't—

Aaron Minyard truly deserves all the best and I just love him so much.

[random-imagines-blog]

Perfect Skin {Remus Lupin x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: @soularsmate Wordcount: 2570 Summary: Sometimes, a little jealousy can go a long way. Notes: Andrew Garfield as Remus Lupin.

To say that Remus got a little testy near the full moon was an understatement. Even James and Sirius knew to keep their joking and pranking of their best friend to a low around those times. It was like he already transformed into a wolf with how he snarled at anyone who poked fun at him. Even you. It wasn’t even like you had said anything mean to him, you just complained a little about a scar that you had from falling off of your broom the last time that you played Quidditch with James. “Why are you even with me if you hate scars?” He asked, making you and your group go quiet. He wasn’t loud enough for others in the Common Room to overhear over the sound of their own chatter, but he was getting there. “If you hate them that much, then I’ll solve the problem for you. I can’t hurt you if I don’t see you. We’re over.”

“Remus,” You protested, trying to reach out for him. Usually a hand on his shoulder or a kiss on his cheek was enough to calm him down somewhat. But he wasn’t in the mood for that today. He backed out from your touch, refusing himself that little bit of comfort. And refusing you that comfort as well. It hurt like hell when he got up and left the room, the cloud of bad temper over his head. You just watched, mouth agape, the sweet boy that you had been dating for four months, walking away like you were nothing.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean that...” James said, running his fingers through his eternally-messy hair.

“Yeah, he cares about you a lot,” Peter added in.

“It’s just his moon time, you know how he gets,” Sirius insisted.

But despite them staying with you and trying to convince you that everything was fine, you felt that sting in his words. He had meant them. You shouldn’t have been so stupid as to bring up scars, knowing that they were an insecurity for him. He often went on and on about how you had such perfect skin. It was like he was ignoring that you had scars of your own. That you went through your own pain and troubles and got to the other side of them. Nothing as intense as his of course but - it wasn’t a competition. It shouldn’t have felt like one.

“I don’t want to be here when he gets back,” You said, getting up after a couple of minutes of the boys trying to cheer you up. “Even if he didn’t mean what he said, he still said it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You left the three boys looking sheepish and upset - they rarely ever saw Remus snap at you like that and it left them feeling uncomfortable. James eventually got up and said he was going to go look for Remus, Peter went up to do some homework before the sunset and they would be going out, and Sirius sat there and stewed. He was close to both of you, closer to you than James and Peter were, anyway.

Remus was going to regret this when he came back to his senses after the Full Moon but Sirius had seen the hurt that was on your face, and wanted to make him regret it even more. A plan started to come together in that devious head of his, and he knew he had to talk to you first thing tomorrow.

-

“That’s ridiculous,” You said at breakfast, watching as the sleepy boy piled food onto his plate. The full moon was a rough night for everyone. You weren’t like the others, you didn’t change your form to try to be with Remus, but you spent the whole night worrying about him anyway. You tried not to, you tried to stay mad at him for attempting to break up with you over something as silly as scars but you loved him too much for that. You stared out the window of your dorm all night, waiting to see the weeping willow freeze and the boys come out of it. So you were much too tired to put up with Sirius’s strange ideas.

“No it’s not,” He said, stabbing a breakfast sausage and shoved it in his mouth. He spoke with his mouthful, making you grimace. How did so many of the girls in this school find this attractive? “It’ll work, I’m serious.”

“Yes, yes, we all know you’re serious,” You said, rolling your eyes at his weak attempt at a joke. “Look, best case scenerio is that he’ll come down for breakfast, he’ll apologize and everything will be okay. Worst case scenario is that he won’t. Why do you want to make an absolute worst ever scenerio by trying to make him jealous?”

“Jealous always works, haven’t you noticed? Plus this will totally help me score a date with that blonde Ravenclaw. Hogsmeade is coming up,” He sang, grabbing the maple syrup to drench his food. “We’ll be doing each other a favor!”

“Sirius...” You said, shaking your head.

“I do love the way that you say my name,” Sirius said, blowing kisses at me. The thought of kissing him, and knowing where those lips had been, made me grimace. But that soon abated when scruffy haired Remus walked past him, bumping into him, and continued down to the end of the table to eat with some third years. Sirius had gotten a head start on the plan before you even realized that Remus was in the room.

You watched him as he sat down and only took a piece of toast for his breakfast. You frowned, getting to your feet so you could tell him to eat more, but Sirius lightly put his hand over yours. “Just let him be for a little while, it was rough last night.”

“You’re one to talk about letting things be,” You said, but lowered yourself back down to continue your breakfast. That didn’t stop you from shooting looks back to Remus though. He looked so lonely down there. Peter eventually joined him, while James bothered Lily near you. He seemed to be trying his best not to look back at you. If he was going to be stubborn, there was nothing really that you could do, except for wait it out.

And that’s what you would do. You’d wait for Remus until the end of the world if you had to.

--

You finally gave into Sirius’s plan, but only because it meant that you wouldn’t have to walk alone to class or study by yourself in the common room. He kept you company, and was a laugh most of the time. He’d tell you about some of the pranks that you had missed out on the group doing, paying careful attention to Remus’s part in them. It had already been two weeks since the full moon, and he still had not spoken to you. You got to the point of trying to send him a letter through your own but Sirius stopped you from doing that.

“Don’t appear too clingy, it’ll blow the plan,” He said, grabbing the parchment from you when he caught the name written on the top.

“I just want to make sure that he’s okay...” You admitted.

“He’s fine,” Sirius said, rolling the parchment up between his fingers. “My brilliant plan is definitely working, though. You should have seen the way that he glared at me after I hugged you goodnight last night.”

“Yeah, why did you do that? It’s not as if the Ravenclaw girl was around to see it.”

“I like to throw myself into the role. Call me a method actor,” He ran his fingers through his hair, flipping it back behind his shoulders. “Plus I like the practice. This girl might actually make me settle down, if I can just get her to notice me.”

“That’s big for you, congratulations.” You said, more than a little surprised. Sirius Black, being serious? Almost unheard of. “But you know, just asking her out might be better than all of this-”

“I already asked you out, I don’t need anyone else,” Sirius said, his whole demeanor changing. He took hold of your hands, running his thumb over the back of them. He didn’t have to tell you that Remus was in the room for you to know that Remus was in the room. “Besides, who could focus on anyone else when there’s you?”

“That’s enough,” Remus’s voice came out in a sharp tone from behind you. You turned your head around, and saw that you were finally able to catch his eye. But instead of the warm, honey look behind them that you were used to, he looked angry. Downright pissed off, actually. “Sirius, what the hell? You could have any girl you wanted, why y/n?”

“I’m sitting right here,” You said, starting to stand up, but once again, Sirius had a good grip on your hands, pulling you back down.

“Calm down, pumpkin,” Sirius said, eyeing his friend. “It’s not my fault you gave her up, mate. She became fair game the minute you broke up with her for whatever stupid reason-”

“You’re a bastard,” Remus said, shaking his head, glare evident. “You’re a bloody bastard, Black, and I regret that I ever thought you were my friend.”

“Remus...” You said, breaking out of Sirius’s grip as the dark haired boy sat dumbstruck. “It’s really not what you think-”

“Save it,” Remus said, the anger in his voice turning to hurt as he addressed you. “Looks enough like you moved on.”

“I didn’t - let me explain, let me talk to you...” You pleaded. This was getting the attention of the others around the common room, and both you and Remus paused as you noticed the stares. “Please.” You said, one more time.

“Fine,” Remus said, taking your hand and pulled you up towards the boy’s dormitory. James was laying out on his bed, passed out, a book about Quidditch resting on his chest. Remus pulled the curtains over him so that he couldn’t see, then sat on the edge of his bed, watching me. “Why did it have to be Sirius?”

“Wow, he must be a better actor than I thought he was, if he had you fooled,” You said, crossing your arms. “Sirius, seriously?”

That usually got the guys to chuckle, but there was nothing this time. Remus’s eyes still looked at you coldly. You sighed. “He’s trying to play you and some Ravenclaw girl into being jealous. I was against the idea, by the way. But then Peter took your side, James was obsessed with Lily and I had no one else to hang out with so ... I sort of went with it. But I didn’t like it. It got all weird when he was start playing with my hair or trying to hold my hand. It never felt right. Not like it did when you did it. Now can we just put an end to this ridiculous mess, and be together again?”

Remus stood up, and paced in front of you. His usually sweet face was contorted into something angry. As confused as you were, and as much as you were wanting to be over, it was pretty hot. He came in close, his warm breath on your face, and took your chin between his calloused fingers.

“All of that - was a ploy - to make me jealous? Is that really what you’re going with?”

“It’s the truth,” You said, unable to look away from his eyes. “There’s absolutely nothing between Sirius and I. I swear.”

He gave a little grunt, and you couldn’t tell whether that meant he believed you or not. After a long moment’s silence, still gazing into one another’s eyes, he finally spoke. “Good, because seeing you with him...” This time a growl came from between his lips.

“Does that mean his plan worked?” You questioned.

“That smart bastard,” Remus muttered. “He knows that you’re my weakness. Seeing you with anyone else makes me a little crazy.”

Rather than feel angry, you felt a bit happy. Relieved. He still cared about you. He still had your chin between his fingers, and he pulled your face in towards his to meet him in a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in even closer. Chest to chest. He surprised you even further by letting go of your face, just to go for your  legs, pulling them up so that they were wrapped around his waist.

Sweet Remus Lupin. You knew that he had something of a dark side, becoming a wolf whenever the moon was full, but he was in between cycles right now. This was all him and yet - there was something animalistic about it. Sexy about it, even.

He took a few steps backwards, turning you so that you would fall onto his bed while he was on top of you. With barely a wave, the curtains closed around the two of you, granting you privacy from the sleeping Potter in the next bed. “I thought I was going to go out of my mind,” He admitted, his lips detaching from yours for just a moment. “You’re mine, y/n, and seeing Sirius’s hands on you. Thinking about what you might have been up to...”

“Absolutely nothing, my love,” you said, keeping your legs wrapped around him so that he couldn’t get away from you again. “I’ve always been yours.”

He pressed possessive kisses all up and down your neck, down to your collar bone and then back up. Right at your jawline, he sucked, kissed and nibbled harshly, leaving marks. You didn’t mind at all, but rather you moaned beneath each and every touch of him. Two weeks had been much too long without him. And he clearly felt the same way about you. Hands were running over your ribs, over your chest. He was repeating your name, his arousal felt between your own legs.

The amazing moment of your reunion was interrupted by something bumping against the curtain, and falling down upon the floor.

“Great, you’re back together,” James’s sleepy voice came through. “But do you mind keepin’ it down? Trying to sleep over here, bloody hell.”

“Sorry James,” You giggled.

“I’m not,” Remus grinned.

“Gonna go sleep in the common room then,” James mumbled, and he disappeared out of the room and down the stairs.

The reunion commenced, and you didn’t mind this new jealous side of Remus that sometimes came out. Though afterwards, as he curled up in your arms, you were the one who comforted him that there was no one else out there in the world for you. That he was your one. And that no matter how many scars he had, or where they were, he had the most perfect skin in the world, because it was his.

[snarkwrites]

ssw | sweetpea; wondering what his kiss feels like. | fluff.

NOTES:

Okay, so.. Apparently my brain likes to torment me. Because earlier, I was going to outline the next chapter for my Sweetpea x Andrews!OFC fic Gangsta and my brain threw out a casual, “But have you considered.. Using the Lodge!OFC you were planning to use with Reggie Mantle.. With Sweetpea?” and this kind of.. came.

So.. if enough people are interested, I may be considering actually writing them a fic or doing more of these little things based around them.. and trying to delve more into possibly pairing Alyssa with Reggie? Because when I wrote their oneshot I felt like there was potential there too... Also, this one shot is a direct result of me, watching dirty dancing reenactments on tik tok and my love for the movie + the fact that Riverdale does musicals every season...

Anyway, enjoy?

PROMPTS:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

the way he says your name / his fingers sliding between your own / wondering what your kiss feels like - these are the inspo prompts used for this oneshot.

FANDOM / CHARACTER

Riverdale / Sweetpea x Lodge!OFC, Marlena

OTHER WORKS SWEET PEA X MARLENA ARE USED IN

None BUT.. That could change, idk..

WARNINGS

Intense sexual tension. Arguing back and forth as a love language until someone snaps. Mutual crushes that turn into something more.. This one is absolutely safe for the kiddos aside from a few swears and the like.. Oh and one barely elaborated on incident of thigh riding / dirty dancing.

TAGGING

There’s absolutely no one on my Riverdale taglist. If you want to be on it, please let me know. Or add yourself to the link below.

OTHER STUFF

[ faq | sfw masterlist - safe for the kiddos but read with caution | tag list ] 

“I swear to God, if she doesn’t give me more, I’m going to fall asleep. Is this really all we could find to participate in the musical for you guys?” My sister's question drew me out of a silent stare war with Sweetpea across the auditorium. He rolled his eyes and I stuck out my tongue at him before turning my attention back to my older sister, sighing as I glanced in the direction of the stage up front. “ She’s not that bad.. I mean at least she had the guts to try out for a part?” I mused quietly, shaking my head. Disappointed at myself because I hadn’t signed up.

Stage fright is one hell of a deterrent. And I knew that if I had tried out, no matter how well I knew the movie we were doing our musical adaptation of this year, when opening night came and those curtains opened and I saw all those people sitting out in the seats? I was going to freeze. I’d completely ruin the show. I didn’t want that.

The best I could do was at least offer to do costumes for Kevin. I told myself that behind the scenes was still helping and being supportive but deep down, ugh.. I wanted to do so much more.

If I were half as brave as my older sister Veronica is when it comes to this kind of stuff… Everyone has their fears though. Mine just happen to be public speaking in front of large audiences. My sister tells me constantly that it doesn’t make sense because I can go all over competing in dance stuff and there’s a crowd there, but.. When I’m dancing, I’m focused on footwork. On steps and the music and the way it makes me feel. I don’t have to speak.

This is also ironic when you take into consideration I am not a shy girl by any stretch of the imagination. I’m actually quite vocal. But when it involves speaking in public?

I freeze. I shut down and in turn, I wind up looking like an idiot.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t notice that Veronica had gotten up out of her seat and walked over, taking the seat right beside Kevin. They were whispering back and forth. I laughed softly because knowing my sister, she was probably telling Kevin that Leah needed to find a better attitude or Kevin needed to find a better person to play Baby Housemann.

Oh, if only I had one tenth of a clue.

My sister came back over, sinking down into the seat next to me. “Feel better now?” I asked her, barely hiding my amusement as I said it. She giggled and nodded. “Much better. I want you to remember how much you love me…” she muttered.

I raised a brow. “What’s that even mean?”

“Just wait.”

“What the hell did you do, Ronnie?”

“You’ll find out, Marlena. Just wait.” Veronica wouldn’t give me any more of an answer than that. Grumbling to myself, I settled back in my seat and tried to focus on the ongoing argument between Leah and Kevin from the stage.

Rolling my eyes at her audacity. Literally anyone could’ve done her part better and she had the nerve to demand Kevin to change everything to fit her? Refusing to work with him on anything? Putting down the script when it was the same one they used in the movie?

Just the thought of it had me shaking my head and muttering to myself about the entitlement and audacity. Veronica gave a soft laugh and leaned in, mocking the way she’d delivered her last line and the fact that she wanted pretty much all her dialogue changed and constantly needed reasons why her character did anything they did.

“Marlena! Hey, Marlena, where are you?” Kevin was calling my name. I looked up from the whispered conversation I’d been having with my older sister Veronica and raised my hand, waiting.

“C’mon. I want to try something. Leah’s just not cutting it for me as Baby.” Kevin called out to me as he gave Leah an irritated dirty look. Leah threw down her script and walked out of the auditorium in a huff. “This is a stupid idea for a musical anyway. Nothing’s gonna top what the seniors are doing. Good luck, jackass.”

Veronica gave me a nudge and with a soft laugh, she leaned in, smiling as she whispered into my ear, “You were born for this, Marlena. Dirty Dancing is your all time favorite movie.”

“Excuse me? I thought we both established it was Crybaby. Then Grease. Then Dirty Dancing.” I teased, standing in a hurry. My sister’s rebuttal to this was to point out with a soft laugh that I definitely had my own special vibe and type of guy. I poked out my tongue at her and turned away. Making my way towards the front of the auditorium where Kevin stood.

Once I was up there, Kevin pressed a copy of our class’s script into my hands. “Congratulations, you’ve been promoted from costumes.” he smirked at me. “I have a feeling about you and this part. As a director, I’m going to go with my gut.”

“But I didn’t sign up..” I shuffled my feet. 

“ Yeah, well, the ones who did from your class obviously don’t care enough to bother showing up to practice or don’t care enough to give their best when they actually bother to come and we’re rehearsing.” Kevin shrugged. Taking his seat.

Alex, the guy who’d been cast as Johnny Castle, walked over. Wrinkling his nose at me as soon as he stood in front of me. Arms folded over his chest as he asked Kevin in a snobbish tone, “So we’re seriously just letting stage crew have parts now, Keller? Is that what this is? I thought you were going to help us make our musical better, not make it a massive failure.”

“Asshole.” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes as I stepped up to him, jabbing a finger into his chest. Giving him a piece of my mind because holy hell did his holier than thou attitude ever irritate me, “I’ll have you know, I probably know this movie line for line. I can probably do all the dances blindfolded, in a wheelchair. Who the hell do you think you are anyway? I saw you in Romeo and Juliet. I have never fallen asleep so fast in my entire life.” I smirked as I went quiet, rolling my eyes at him.

Alex chuckled and rolled his eyes right back at me, making the dismissive remark in response, “Did I ask you to speak? Did I address you directly? No. I didn’t. I was talking to the director. Don’t you have costumes to make or something? You’re holding up rehearsals.”

Out towards the back of the auditorium, I heard my sister cheering me on. Clapping and whistling. Telling me to give him hell and telling Alex he was awfully full of himself for someone who got a thumbs down by a New York theater critic over the summer.

I took a deep breath and glanced down at the script in my hands. Starting to read over it. Ignoring the argument between Kevin and Alex for the most part. Just trying to get myself in character while I waited. 

Alex grumbled and stormed back over, standing near me. His posturing tense and a supremely annoyed look in his eyes as he gave me half a second’s glance. Kevin gave the cue to start and Alex read his line first. 

“Look, spaghetti arms. This is my dance space. This is your dance space. I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine. You gotta hold the frame.”

Before I even got a chance to read off my line, Kevin was standing up. Making his way towards us. “You two are supposed to be dancing together. Marlena, you need to stand closer. Alex, you need to deliver the line in more of a teasing tone. Like you’re trying to taunt her. Playful. Not like you’re actually being an asshole. Like you’re flirting with her.”

“She’s not my type.” Alex rolled his eyes as he glanced at me. I glared up at him, a hand on my hip. Dangerously close to exploding all over again. I kept everything I’d been about to say to myself though, and with a deep breath, I listened as Kevin gave us both advice. Smirking to myself a little when he lit into Alex for being a drama queen.

After Kevin finished telling us what to fix, we prepared to try again. I stepped closer. Found myself glancing out in the crowd. My eyes settled on Sweetpea. 

I found him watching the whole thing play out with an amused smirk. His arms folded over his chest. Holding my gaze boldly. Daring me to look away first. I refused. If  I looked away first, that gave him the upper hand. I was not about to give him that.

,, That jackass. Look at him. All smug.. Ugh, I just wanna punch his stupid sexy face.” the thought surfaced and I quickly did my best at shoving it out again. I found myself thinking about a heated argument we’d had in the hallway earlier.

I found myself kind of drawing parallels between him and the character Alex was supposed to be playing but doing a terrible job at playing. I couldn’t work with the performance Alex was giving, he wasn’t giving me anything to work with. 

Somewhere in the midst of it all, I found myself replaying my earlier argument with Sweetpea. Stepping closer to Alex. Doing my best to play at a lack of experience in dance, despite my vast experience and love for it. Getting immersed in the role. Imagining myself as the character Baby.. And not Alex but Sweetpea as Johnny Castle.

Alex delivered his line a second time. His delivery wasn’t much better. Kevin grumbled to himself and made his way over yet again. This time, Kevin’s problem with the scene had absolutely nothing to do with me.

He addressed me first. “Please, please please.. You have to play Baby. You have to.” he gave me a pleading look. “I’m prepared to beg, okay?”

I pretended to mull it over. Smiling as I nodded. “Okay, alright.. I can still do costumes though, right? Because I already have a ton of ideas drawn up..” I shuffled my feet, giving Kevin a pleading look.

“Yeah! Definitely. You’re the only one I trust to do the costumes right, Marlena.” Kevin answered quickly.

He turned his attention to Alex and they got into a heated argument. Alex blamed his performance on me and the fact that I seemed standoffish and that I wasn’t up to his level and shouldn’t even be sharing a stage with him to begin with. Insisting that Kevin should at least give Josie McCoy a chance to play Baby in our play. She already had her hands full with the senior class musical and her performance during intermission and Kevin pointed that out.

“Josie can’t do both musicals and intermission twice, Alex. That’s asking way too much. Even from her, man. Marlena is Baby. You can adapt to that or you’re welcome to leave.” Kevin stood firm in his decision.

Alex eyed me and I stood taller. Smirking up at him. More than a little amused by the entire thing. He chuckled. Shrugging as he tossed down the script he’d been holding in his hands. “Fine. Try to find somebody else to do a better job at playing Johnny. See how that works out. I’m done. I refuse to participate in this mockery.”

He stormed out of the auditorium.

My sister Veronica and Josie McCoy shared a look and a nod. Veronica stood. Josie shot up out of her seat also and the two jogged over to Kevin. Getting him off to the corner of the auditorium. As the three of them whispered back and forth, I stood there, shuffling my feet. Reading ahead in the script.

Taking it all in.

Honestly enjoying the fact that I was going to be playing Baby Housemann in the junior class musical immensely more than I thought I would. ,, until opening night when you’re on stage in front of everyone and you either freeze, bolt out of the room or throw up everywhere.” my mind taunted.

I shoved out the intrusive thought.

Kevin chuckled out loud. Getting so excited that he didn’t keep his voice down when he spoke up. “Your minds, I swear. Yeah, we’re gonna try that. Right now, actually.” Kevin told my sister and Josie. They smirked at each other and as they walked past me, Veronica gave me a wink.

And almost as soon as she did, I braced myself. Because I have the sneaking suspicion that my sister was up to something. And if that something had to do with a certain Serpent reading against me as Johnny Castle?

I was literally going to die. I’d be totally doomed.

,, maybe not.” and even the surprise optimism had me laughing at myself because I knew better.

“Sweetpea, can you come up here, man?” Kevin called out.

I tensed just a little. Took a deep breath. Suddenly I knew exactly what my sister had been up to but my question now was why had Josie taken part in the whole idea? I thought she was dating him? They were hot and heavy at Cheryl’s party a few weeks ago and they went places together a lot …

I prayed for a portal to another dimension to open in the stage and take me out. If my sister has even slightly hinted that I may or may not have feelings for the giant jerk to anyone I swear to God.. I’ll die.

Sweetpea hopped over the chair in front of him and walked down the long aisle, stopping where Kevin sat in the front row. The two were whispering back and forth and more than one time, Sweetpea glanced back at me. Smirking. Chuckling as he listened to what Kevin was telling him and rubbing his chin as he pretended to think something over.

Sweetpea looked over at me and shrugged as he answered Kevin. “I can try. I’m not makin any promises though because I don’t dance and I’ve never seen this movie.”

“Just trust me. You’re as Johnny as Johnny gets, Pea.” Kevin encouraged. I wanted to kick him so badly at that moment. Did he seriously have to encourage Sweetpea? There had to be someone else… anyone else. Someone I didn’t have a massive crush on and yet also want to strangle.

I pretended to stick my finger down my throat and gag, as per usual when Sweetpea locked eyes with me again as he walked towards where I stood..

 ,, because God forbid you let him even get an ounce of suspicion that you have a crush on the guy.” my brain was at it again with the taunting. I pushed it all down deep and took a deep breath or two.

“You did this just to be an asshole.” I muttered.

“No, I did this because Kevin’s my friend. Not everything I do is about pissing you off, princess.” Sweetpea chuckled as he said it. Adding in a quieter tone, “Just because you’re Marlena Lodge… That doesn’t make everything about you.”

My jaw set and I glared up at him. Taking a deep breath or two. Reminding myself that despite Sweetpea now reading as Johnny Castle, I still loved this movie and I wanted our class’s play to be worth watching. That I couldn’t mess this up. I couldn’t let Sweetpea taunt and torment me into messing this up either.

I didn’t want to disappoint Kevin because he was one of my best friends. He was depending on me to at least try to do my best here.

Kevin gave the signal for us to start from the top of the scene.

I stepped closer. My body brushing against Sweetpea’s. Sweetpea mirrored this and grabbed hold of my arms, pulling them out in front of me just like Patrick Swayze did in the actual movie as he recited the line.

And the tone in his voice, oh my god.

“Look, spaghetti arms. This is my dance space. This is your dance space. I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine. You gotta hold the frame.”

I responded with my line. Stepping closer, even throwing in an accidental mis-step on the top of his foot on my own. 

Kevin continued to sit, watching us rehearse. By the time we got to the scene where Johnny is telling Baby that he got fired, I could feel more people’s eyes on us. And I swallowed hard, trying not to focus on being watched and how that felt, but instead, on the script. On what I had to say and how I felt like it needed to come across.

And maybe, in my own mind, I was imagining how I’d act if I were in Baby’s shoes. Having just argued with my father about the guy I was in love with only to turn and find out that despite my own optimism at convincing the guy to do the right thing, nothing worked out the way I wanted at all.

Sweetpea must have caught on to my anxiety because he muttered quietly, “You good, princess?” as he covertly brushed his hand against mine. Clearing his throat to get my attention and keep me from getting nervous and blanking out or bolting off the stage.

I gazed up at him a second or two, finally nodding. Managing to ground myself somehow and I tried my best to convince myself it was not because Sweetpea’s fingers laced through mine. Almost as if he’d caught hold of my hand to keep me from leaving.

,, He’s just doing that because it’s in the script. You’re supposed to be having a heated discussion and you’re about to walk away upset. That’s the only reason he grabbed your hand. It has nothing to do with the fact that you kind of freaked out a little and lost your focus.” I reminded myself grimly as I caught up to where we were on the page and took a deep breath, preparing for my turn to speak.

As I delivered my next line, “So I did it for nothing.I hurt my family, you lost your job anyway-- I did it for nothing!” I wanted to disappear into the stage floor when my sister stood up in her chair, clapping and whistling. But the way I said it sounded so wistful. Disappointed and bitter. Like I was truly hurting.

Sweet Pea said his line. “No, no, not for nothin', Baby! Nobody has ever done anything like that for me before.” and I paused. Staring up at him. Blown away because he sounded so sincere too. Like for a second or two, this was really taking place and it wasn’t just some silly rehearsal. Like he meant what he was saying.

But I knew he didn’t. We tolerate each other at best. At our worst, we’re at each other’s throats constantly. Finding any and all excuses to rip into each other or push the other’s buttons. Because it’s just what we do.

But his tone. The look in his eyes when he delivered the line. The way his eyes fixed on me, searching. Waiting.

“It’s your turn, princess.. Cat got your tongue?” he muttered under his breath to draw me out of my own inner turmoil.

I took a deep breath and scanned the page. Finding my next line. “You were right, Johnny. You can't win no matter what you do!” and I could feel him staring as I said it. Biting his lip when I lazily punched at his chest because it felt like the right thing to do in the heat of the moment to show how upset the character was. I shook my head and dropped my eyes. “You were right.” I muttered in a quieter tone.

Sweetpea reached out, rough fingertips gripping my jawline. Guiding my eyes back up to meet his as he replied with the next line, “You listen to me. I don't wanna hear that from you. You can!”

And again, it sounded so real. Emotional. Like we were really having this argument. I was really getting into this. Probably a little too much for my own good. I sighed and shook my head sadly. Biting my lip as I stepped away a little and continued to shake my head, arguing back, “I used to think so.” and after a second or two, adding in a quieter tone, “Now I don’t know anymore.” even though it wasn’t in the script.

Sweetpea was staring at me. Thoughtful. Intent. Almost as if he were actually seeing me and not all the stupid things he’d written me off as from the word go on the first time we met. He cleared his throat and that shit-eating smirk was back again. “Not too bad, huh?”

“Jackass.” I muttered, mostly to myself. Still a little dazed.

Kevin called for a break and made his way over.

“Okay, we’re going to take this all the way from the beginning tomorrow. I wish I’d done this sooner. We’re going to have to practice the lift next. Because the lift is iconic. We have to pull that off or I’m gonna want to punch myself in the throat.” Kevin was excited, rambling away a mile a minute.

Sweetpea spoke up. “What about my part in the senior musical?”

“You can do both. We’ll move the junior musical to a different night. You have to do this. C’mon…”

Sweetpea grumbled and finally muttered with a shrug, “Okay, alright. Fine. Shit. I’ll do it. But I’m not wearing tights, are we clear?”

“You really haven’t seen the movie at all… have you?” I scoffed as I gazed up at Sweetpea. He mimicked me and shrugged. “I’ve seen bits of it. But I know one thing and that’s dancers wear tights. I’m not wearing tights. Not happenin.”

“For your information, you big idiot, Patrick Swayze does not wear tights a single time in this movie. At least not that I remember and I’ve seen it a thousand times... Suit and tie, maybe.”

Sweetpea grumbled and raised a brow.

“Not for the whole movie, damn it.. Black jeans and a black shirt will suffice for most of it. You can even wear your leather jacket, you big man-baby. Johnny Castle wears one in the movie.” I answered. Stepping closer to him to sort of get a visual read on his measurements so that when the time came I at least kind of had an idea of what worked. Sweetpea chuckled, dragging his fingers through his hair as he gazed down at me. “See something you like, princess?”

“I’m trying to figure out what I’m gonna need for your costume, dingus.” I replied as calmly as possible.

“Ya know, you could always just measure me… Right? Or ask me my size?”

“Oh you’d enjoy that entirely too much. And I’d have to touch you. No, nope. No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“I’m gonna have to touch you anyway. That lift or whatever it was that had Kevin rambling just now.” Sweetpea barely hid his amusement as he stepped even closer. A hand at my hip. Lingering.

For a second or two, I was lost in his eyes and totally oblivious to anything going on around us and then Kevin shattered that by starting the last song of the musical and calling for everyone to take their places.

And from the crowd, Fangs spoke up.

“Hey babe.. What if we got all the extras from the clubhouse scene to come in through the crowd? Just like the movie?” Fangs was smirking at both Sweetpea and I as he spoke up. Enjoying this entire situation way too much.

“Fangs, you brilliant and beautiful man, this is exactly why I love you so much.” Kevin smirked as he rubbed his chin and called out. “Okay, if you were an extra in the clubhouse scene, go to the doors of the auditorium. When Fangs gives the signal, you’ll come in. Dancing.”

He turned to Sweetpea. “You go with them.”

Sweetpea managed to break the staredown we had going on and he nodded. Grumbling as he walked towards the front of the auditorium.

Everything went pretty well until we got to the part where I was supposed to run to Sweetpea and he was supposed to lift me over his head. I took off, running towards him.

I missed the mark. Wound up with my legs wrapped around his waist, clinging for dear life while he staggered back just a little. Both of us arguing about whose fault it was that we messed up.

Kevin cleared his throat.

“You guys need more practice. Maybe you could rehearse together?”

Sweetpea and I glanced at each other, mulling it over.

“Fine.” Sweetpea ground out through a jaw tightly clenched. A glance at Fangs revealed that the reason he agreed without a huge fight was probably something to do with the way Fangs was giving him a demanding look.

“Fine.” I answered. Swallowing hard.

Trying to pull myself together because frankly, I was still all sorts of stirred up from the way he’d actually caught me and the fact that no, I hadn’t wanted him to put me back on my feet at the end, either.

I spoke up again. “We can do it at the bunker.” I suggested. Trying to think of a neutral place that didn’t favor either of us heavily. A place we could hopefully be alone and focus. And probably scream and shove and storm away to cool off if things got too heated.

“8 work for you or does daddy let you out past your bedtime, princess?” Sweetpea taunted, smirking at me when I glared and rolled my eyes.

“ I do what I want.” I scoffed at his parting jab. 

From behind me, my sister spoke up. “Are you ready, Marlena?” as she looked back and forth between Sweetpea and I with an amused grin.

“Yeah. We need to get going.” I answered.

 As my sister and I walked out of the auditorium, my sister gave a soft laugh. “That wasn’t so bad, huh? I knew you could do it.”

“Oh shut up.” I grumbled, managing a weak smile. “We haven’t made it to the night of yet. Don’t jinx this. Remember what happened last time I had to get up in front of people and talk in any capacity?”

“Marlena, that was kindergarten. Maybe it’ll be different.”

“Veronica, I threw up everywhere. And not gracefully, either. It was a full on projectile vomit.”

“That was something. The chemistry between you and Sweetpea in there. I felt like I was actually watching the movie.”

“He’s an ass. And he hates me, remember?”

“Yeah, well.. It didn’t look that way to me, Marlena. If he hated you, he wouldn’t have been standing so close the entire time… or the way he grabbed your hand?” my sister questioned.

I shrugged it off. “Can we change the subject?”

“Why? Afraid I might be right?” my sister teased, as usual.

TIME SKIP

“Okay, if he’s not here in ten minutes, I’m leaving. This place gives me the creeps.” I muttered to myself almost the exact second that I managed to find a spiderweb with my face and shriek about it.

Low chuckling from behind me had me turning. Finding myself body to body with Sweetpea as he tried not to laugh.

“Do you talk to yourself a lot or do I make you that nervous, princess?” he taunted. I gave a light shove and stepped away, pouting up at him. Quick to argue that he didn’t make me nervous, not at all, not even a little.

Despite knowing that the truth of the matter was yes. Yes, he made me extremely nervous. Because he was so distinctly my type and I just longed for what I knew wouldn’t ever work out between us because we were entirely too different.

“In other words, yes. I make you that nervous.” Sweetpea’s jaw set in a line and I flinched a little. Not wanting to fight with him.

I quickly changed the subject, nodding to a little tv and dvd player I’d rigged up earlier and the brown paper bags with Pop’s logo on the front.

“We need to rehearse. Not whatever this is.” Sweetpea was still irritated.

“Yes, well.. You’re never going to realize just how huge a part of the story Johnny Castle is until you’ve seen the movie.”

Sweetpea rubbed his chin in thought. “How long is this fucking movie?”

“Maybe two hours? C’mon… Or do you have a hot date waiting?” -the hint of jealousy that crept into my tone was enough to make me tense up a little. Pray to God he hadn’t picked up on it. Lucky for me, he didn’t seem to, instead, he was already digging into the grease stained paper bags, grabbing himself a burger and fries.

Sprawling on the little twin sized bed.

I dug out my own food and sat down, close to the edge of the bed, careful not to sit too close to him because I didn’t want to crowd him or annoy him or give him the wrong impression.. Or in my case, the right impression though I’d die before admitting that to him. 

After hitting play on the DVD player, the opening title splashed across the screen and I smiled, settling into my chosen seat just a little more comfortably.

About thirty minutes into the movie, I could feel his eyes fixed on me. I turned to look back at him, a brow raised. “What?”

“You know every single line.”

I felt my cheeks burn a little, shrugging it off as I nodded. Answering through a mouth full, “When we were little.. Veronica and I used to watch this movie whenever it was raining or we were sick. We’d get cozy in one of our rooms with snacks and blankets and we’d just like… imagine life being that simple. Doesn’t help that Johnny Castle is - to quote my sister, “Totally your kind of man.” “ I gave a sheepish laugh and took a handful of my fries, raking them through my milkshake.

Sweetpea rose to sit. Leaning in a little. Extending his arm and wiping his thumb over the corner of his mouth as he cleared his throat. “You had some milkshake…” before falling silent all over again. Staring at me for seconds that seemed to stretch infinitely. It  felt like everything fell away. All that remained was that thick tension. The flickering of the candles I’d lit earlier against the wall. The tension got to me. It had everything I wanted to say but couldn’t find the nerve threatening to come out.

“I don’t bite, ya know.” he muttered quietly. Pulling away a little. That look in his eyes again. 

It hit me. He honestly thought I disliked him. Or thought that I was better than him. Nothing could be further from the truth and realizing how he must have felt and what probably fuelled most of the comments and the arguments between us was the fact that he thought I viewed him as a lesser person somehow… that really got to me.

“I, uh.. I didn’t want to crowd you.” I managed to get the words out after a few seconds. Not daring to look at him. Desperate for a rewind button so maybe I could go back in time to when I first met him and salvage everything.

Desperate to tell him how I really felt.

Especially when I remembered what Veronica mentioned earlier about the way Josie just shut him out.

“Oh.”

The movie caught our attention again. After a minute or two of sitting poised right at the edge of the bed like I’d been and longing to really get comfortable, I settled in the sliver of space next to him. Trying not to think about the fact that the bed being as small as it was gave us literally no space and we were forced to touch.

Thirty minutes passed. Sweetpea sat up.

“ I think I get it now.” he muttered.

“Yeah?” I was getting lost in his eyes all over again.

“Mhm.” he affirmed. 

I sat up and so did he. “It’s cheesy as hell, but… I get it. Kinda know how the guy feels.” Sweetpea’s gaze settled on his hands and he chuckled to himself, the sound almost bitter.

“I’m sorry. I heard about you and Josie breaking up.”

“We didn’t. You can’t break up with someone if they never wanted to be with you to begin with.” Sweetpea answered. He tensed up a little and I sighed. Wishing I hadn’t opened my mouth.

That tension between him and I doubled.

In an attempt to make things just a little lighter, I slipped off the bed. Held out my hand.

Sweetpea eyed it warily. 

I insisted, “Oh come on, please? Just one dance. You did say we had to practice. And I dance, so I can definitely tell you that if we don’t at least somewhat connect, we’re going to be awkward and it’s going to look bad.”

Did I really just do that?

The scene where Baby goes to Johnny’s cabin and spends the night was just beginning and I swallowed hard as soon as I glanced back up at Sweetpea and realized that he was staring at the television in a daze. I cleared my throat to get his attention.

“You want me to dance with you.. Like that. Okay.” Sweetpea towered over me. Closing the space between our bodies before I had a chance to back out of what I asked of him. His hands went straight to my hips. Holding my body in place against his as he chuckled, looking down at me. “You’re the one who wanted to dance, princess.”

“Yeah.” I managed to stammer. Breathless. Helpless thanks to the way his fingers dug into my hips and held me against him. But when they started to move up and down my sides, oh… I felt myself shiver at the touch. Melting against him on my own. I’d been trying my best not to give in and do that.

I trained my eyes on the front of his plaid shirt because I didn’t dare look up at him.

His leg slipped between mine and I bit my lip. Breath catching in my throat all over again as I rubbed myself against his thigh. My usual careful,guarded filter was gone.

All I cared about was doing whatever I could to show Sweetpea that what he thought I felt towards him wasn’t true.

His hands settled across my ass. Fingers digging in as he gasped quietly. A groan slipping out as he muttered in a daze, “You really are a good dancer, huh?”

“I, uh… I compete. My parents are huge on pushing my sister and I into competitive activities, whether we want it or not.” I babbled.

It must have bothered him that I wasn’t looking at him because he gripped my jaw, guiding my gaze up. “But you like dancing. I can tell.”

,, maybe it’s just dancing like this with you.” the thought came. I stopped just shy of actually letting it slip out. I sighed and smiled, nodding in agreement. Because that was so much easier than everything else I wanted to do or say. ,, besides,” my brain continued to taunt, “why on Earth is he going to want you when he could have literally anyone else?” and the thought had me pouting a little.

I didn’t think he was aware of it.

“What?” he asked. Tensing a little. Loosening his grip on my body just a little bit. Seeming as if he wanted to step away from me. Before I had the chance to talk myself out of it, I melted against him all over again. Raising my arms to slip them around his neck.

“Nothing.” I answered after a few seconds.

“You were pouting again. That’s kind of a thing you do when you’re upset, you’re not getting your way or you’re annoyed.”

The fact that he picked up on that had me raising a brow. Scoffing. About to argue that I didn’t pout all the time, but keeping quiet because I knew he was right.

But how -and when, had he noticed?

“Dreading the fact that I’m going to get up there on stage and see everyone watching and I will panic.” I muttered quietly because a half truth was better than the whole truth or a complete lie.

If I told him the real reason I’d been pouting, well.. That would’ve opened up a can of worms that I’m not sure about opening. God I want to. But if I just lay it all on the line…

I can’t.

Sweetpea raised a brow. He started to say something but he went quiet on me. Thinking.

“But you’re so loud.” he finally spoke up.

I pouted up at him, giving his chest a light smack. “I ought to step on your foot, sir.”

“Won’t hurt. Boots are steel toe.” Sweetpea smirked as he said it. Sticking his tongue out at me.

He dipped me and I hadn’t been expecting it. I gasped and he chuckled. “Not so bad at this dancing shit, hmm?” he questioned as he pulled me back up. His hands moved up and down my back before settling on my ass again. Squeezing when I rocked myself over his thigh just a little before I could stop myself because what he was doing was getting me worked up.

I sighed a little. Melting all over at the way he touched me and held me. Admitting with a quiet laugh, “You’re actually not. And I can teach you more..” trailing off and going quiet.

“You can, huh?”

His voice was this perfect mix of gravel and silk and I had to clench my thighs just a little. Found myself praying to whatever God might exist that I didn’t get too excited and leave a wet spot behind on his jeans. Because that would definitely seal the embarrassment and awkwardness factor. And I didn’t want that.

I was staring intently at his chest again when he tucked his fingers beneath my chin and tilted my head. “Careful what you say, princess. I might actually take you seriously.”

“I’m being serious. I don’t mind at all.” I babbled and instantly, I wanted to punch myself in the throat for it. This awkward version of myself wasn’t me but for whatever reason, Sweetpea seemed to bring it out. All my insecurities seemed to come rushing to the surface. Taunting me with the knowledge that there was no way he’d ever be interested in me beyond the convenience of a good screw. Knowing that even if he were, something would go wrong somehow.

He dipped me again. This time when he pulled me back up, our faces bumped against each other and when my mouth brushed against his, I couldn’t stop the quiet gasp that came. His fingers dug into my body just a little more and we were staring at each other.

Dazed.

“Pea?”

“What’s up, princess?” he muttered after a second or two. Blinking as if he were trying to focus.

“Nothing.” I muttered. Losing my nerve and my train of thought. Pushing down everything I’d been about to say all over again.

“ Why do you do that? Just say whatever it is you want to say.”

“Oh, I don’t think you want me to do that.” I muttered, mostly to myself. My gaze trained on anything and everything but his. He guided my face up and licked his lips, his eyes darting down. Settling on my mouth. “What if I do?” he muttered in response after a few seconds.

“Okay, fine. I was wondering what..” I trailed off. Frustrated. Laughing at myself and shaking my head. “Forget it. It’s stupid.”

“Tell me, woman. Damn.” his tone was firm and I swallowed hard as I looked up at him.

He was going to keep at it until I said something and right now, I was drawing a blank on any other convenient things I could say that were less controversial than what I’d stopped myself from saying.

,, maybe if you say it, he’ll know that you don’t hate him.” the thought came.

I took a deep breath. Shaky.

“I was wondering what your kiss feels like.” I muttered, my voice dropping so low that for a second, I didn’t think he heard me.

His jaw dropped. One hand left my ass and raised. Dragging through thick dark hair as he tugged. His mouth opening and closing.

“What? You kept asking… I.. You don’t have to. I didn’t want to make it weird.” I babbled nervously. When he started to chuckle, I looked up at him with a brow raised. “Gee, thanks.” I pouted.

Stepping away. Because if I didn’t put some distance between us right then, I was going to keep digging the hole deeper.

He reached out and grabbed me by the hips, pulling me against him all over again. Rocking himself into me clumsily. His face inching closer and closer to my own. Our mouths were on a collision course and neither of us bothered to stop it from happening. His lips settled against the corner of my mouth clumsily. His tongue traced the outline of my lips and I shivered and melted against him like I’d been before. Clinging. My arms around his neck again. Fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck before settling my hand across to rest and pull his mouth back against mine.

My lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past my lips and he melted into me this time. Deepening the kiss. Using his grip on my ass to pull me up his body slightly. I sighed as the kiss broke, my tongue rolling over kiss swollen lips. Staring at him as I tried to wrap my head around what just happened.

How badly I wanted it to happen again.

“Well?”

I bit my lip. Trying to formulate words. Anything. My brain must have short-circuited because I came up with nothing, despite all the opening and closing of my mouth as I attempted to answer.

I’m not sure what possessed me to do it or why I thought it was a good idea, but I was grabbing hold of the back of his neck. Pulling his mouth back against mine greedily. Taking total control of the kiss this time around. Making him chuckle into the kiss. 

As we pulled apart to breathe, he repeated his question.

“Better than my wildest dreams.” I blurted out quietly.

“So you dream about kissing me?” he asked, tucking his fingers beneath my chin so that I couldn’t do what I tended to when a subject got to be too uncomfortable for me… I swallowed hard and admitted in a hushed tone, “Among other things.”

He growled out the word “Fuck.” and pulled me up his body completely. Deepening the kiss to a point where I almost forgot to breathe a time or two. I could feel myself getting light-headed. The kiss broke and we pulled apart, breathing heavily. I melted against him, dazed. Still trying to get my head around the turn the night had taken.

“It’s getting late, princess.”

“It is.”

“I should probably get you home.”

I pouted a little. Holding onto him just a little tighter. “Unfortunately.” I muttered.

He scooped me off the table and carried me out of the bunker. Sitting me on the back of his motorcycle. I wrapped my arms around him and leaned against his back, the Serpent patch scratching at my skin a little.

The drive back to the Pembrooke took almost no time and as soon as his motorcycle stopped at the curb, I pouted a little. Rolling my eyes at the literal ivory tower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I asked as I slipped off the back of his motorcycle.

 He grabbed hold of my hips, pulling me against him. Leaning down and stealing another deep kiss. “Mhm. Definitely, princess.”

I practically floated up the stairs leading into the lobby of the building. And I leaned against the wall, waiting on the elevator. Trying to pull myself together. Smiling like an idiot.

[diamondluxesugar]

Who’s Actually Surprised that Brits are Racist?

So first of all, the family dynamics of the BRF are actually so sad. When we see movies that involve royals, they have the external face and the internal face. The public persona and the behind-the-castle-walls persona. I find it incredibly sad that there is no differentiation between the two. The hierarchy being maintained while they're supposed to have down time, no wonder people are depressed and doing all kinds of crazy things. How do you build strong relationships with your family when it's all about the proper chain of command? No wonder Charles is ignoring Harry's calls. They have absolutely no sense of loyalty towards each other, which is what I suppose will happen when your entire family history is full of people chopping off each other's heads. It's actually pitiful. The fact that they got married in secret and didn't even have his brother there speaks VOLUMES. The sheer isolation that goes on in that family in incredible. My siblings are my confidants. If I have no one else in this world, I have my ride or dies. I can't imagine getting married in secret and only being my fiancé and the priest present. To not even trust your own sibling is indicative of a household that is so toxic that the only choice is to escape.

Honestly Harry probably doesn't trust William for some legit logical reasons. He (William) strikes me as a spiteful, vindictive person. He probably blamed Harry for a ton of things growing up and tried to fit that "perfect" role as the 3rd in line for the throne. Still, they're adults. This is no longer 15 year olds being forced to act and behave a certain way by their superiors. We're talking about some of the most powerful people in the world. They have access to millions of dollars of resources. They can go to the best therapists in the world and unlearn the behaviors that are toxic and make that change in their family dynamic. The Monarchy is the people involved in it. It's not a secret group of people pulling the strings, it's not the Wizard, it's not God. It's a definable set of people that make decisions for the family. And if it is Mr. Anderson from the matrix, fire his ass.

Now, Meghan needs to bear some responsibility in this. You mean to tell me you started dating a man and did absolutely no research on him? I start dating a man and look up everything I can find about him, including his friend history. I have my girl friends do some digging into his social life to find out all of the tea. I REFUSE to look foolish on behalf of any man. SO with all of that being said, Meghan darling you didn't even Google search Prince Harry? Didn't look up the race scandals he himself has been involved in? Didn't share any information about who you were dating with your mom? Knowing that these people are followed by millions of people? That doesn't seem 100% true. And if it is true, I think that makes her incredibly naïve.

But even so, let's say she did no research and didn't really know the full scope of these people. That in no way excuses all the psychological bullshit they put her, Harry, and Archie through. What is the reason? Does anyone have an actual explanation? Questioning how dark Archie is going to be like his father isn't a damn ginger and his mother isn't lighter than a blonde roast with extra cream from Starbucks. Not giving their kids protection? I'm baffled. Why? What's the reason? We all know the reason, and the crazy thing is that Meghan is a mixed woman who hasn't even gone through life with the experiences that women a darker than her have. Hell, I'm mixed, far darker than Meghan, and have had some pretty crazy experiences on that rock where they think beans and toast is a delicacy.

I believe a lot more of what Meghan and Harry have said than what's been peddled out over the years regarding her disposition and the BRF drama. And just for them both to still hold themselves back from blowing the whole place up is insane. If my in-laws were having conversations about how dark my kid is going to be, letting the media bash me at every turn, and just being overall cunts, I'm burning the place down and taking them with me. It's hard enough being black/mixed in this white world without having family being there to fight to the ends for you.

And dears, that brings me swiftly to my next point.

All of the drama and issues surrounding Meghan and Harry is being used to distract from what far more important people are doing. Let's be serious, who really cares if Meghan was 'a little bit mean' to her staff or ate too much avocado toast. Do you truly think she was throwing hot tea on people and we're just now finding out about it? I seriously question the BRF's motives behind launching these laughable investigations into Meghan's behavior while she was in the palace. Our favorite lizard prince, Philip, just had yet another open heart surgery, probably stolen from some orphan Somalia. William is sticking his dick in everything that moves, including his own wife's friends and the teachers of his own damn children.

And most importantly Prince Andrew with his pedophile self and his connections with Epstein.

You would think that the BRF wants to investigate possible ties with an international child slavery sex ring. But no. They want to investigate Meghan bullying her employees. Give me a break.

[yee-fxcking-haw]

What Happens Next?

A/N: This chapter is kind of short, so I hope you still enjoy it! The next chapter will definitely have a lot of smut and cheesy stuff in it so stay with me lol. If you want added to the taglist or if I was the worst and forgot to tag you please just message me and let me know!!

Summary: You and James finally have that long avoided talk.

Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of mental illness, implications of sexual assault.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four Playlist

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Part Five

Annie's Diner

James orders two chocolate milkshakes and plate of fries, thanking the waitress with a beautiful smile. Sitting in this diner with him feels absolutely surreal. It's obvious to you why you've refused to say a word to him since prom. He makes you weak. You feel yourself falling again, you're so easily swayed by him and you don't even want to fight it.

"Are you sure that's all you want to eat?" He asks, obviously trying to be careful with his words.

You just nod without a word. You keep your eyes glued to the table, pretending to be very intrigued by it. It kills you that this is almost awkward. You never dreamed that you and James would ever have a moment that would feel this unnatural.

"Doll?" He says, his voice has a questioning tone.

"I told you not to call me that." You say without looking up. You don't want to hear him call you that name ever again, he poisoned it when he used it for that other girl.

"What's her name?" You ask quietly, glancing up at him.

He sighs deeply, accepting the inevitable question.

"Elise, I never wanted to take her to prom." He explains.

"So you dumped for me somebody you didn't even like! That makes me feel so much better, thank you so much James." You say, filled with anger at his sorry ass explanation.

"She started the rumors about you, not me. As soon as she got into the gym that night she started spreading them." He blurts out, obviously desperate to convince you of his innocence.

"Honestly, I don't care who started the rumors. It almost makes it worse that you didn't. If you had, then you would at least be able to plead the case of clinging to your own lie, of not wanting to embarrass yourself by telling everyone that you were an asshole that made that shit up. Since somebody else started them, you had nothing to lose by telling everyone the truth. You didn't though, so that's what matters, not who started them, but the fact that you didn't stop them." You finish your little rant with a huge sigh.

Does he really think that he's going to get out of this by blaming somebody else? James just sits there, eyes wide. He looks so defeated already, like you just sucked all the life out of him. Maybe he's really starting to grasp just how much pain he's subjected you to.

"You're right, I didn't. Because I cared too much about what people thought and I was scared. I was stupid, and selfish, and it made me lose the best thing that's ever happened to me." He looks at you with pleading eyes.

"Save the Shakespeare bullshit, James. If I was the best thing you've ever had you wouldn't have thrown me away for somebody who meant nothing." You retort.

"I did not fucking throw you away. I did not dump you. I showed up expecting to meet you with Elliot and Henry, but then the girls were there like an ambush or something." He says, his voice laced with frustration.

"Listen to me, if I had turned Elise down right then and there, your life would have become a living hell." He says, lowering his voice like he's scared somebody will hear.

"Right, because she didn't do that anyway." You snap, words dripping with sarcasm.

"Do you remember that girl at the beginning of the year, the one that sang the national anthem at the football game?" He asks urgently.

You try to think back, you do remember her a little. She wasn't here for very long though, just long enough to sing the national anthem and then she left the school abruptly. She had the most beautiful black hair, that seems to be the only detail you can remember about her.

"Elise wanted to sing that, but the principal liked the way Wendy sang it." You begin to put the pieces together.

"When Elise found out that she wasn't going to sing it, she got very close to Wendy all of a sudden. She found out that she was pregnant because she was foolin' around with one of the football players." He explains.

"So she told the principal and got Wendy expelled." You fill in the rest.

"Where's Wendy now?" You ask.

"Last I heard she left town, she was about 6 months pregnant when she moved. Her and her parents just up and left one day." He says.

"Is that according to Elise?" You ask.

"That's according to Andrew, the guy that knocked her up." He states.

You sit quietly for a second, could one girl really hold that much power over a school? You think back to when you were called to the principal's office that Monday afternoon. You had plead your case honestly, but all the principal had to say was, "Evidence suggests otherwise". What the hell did that even mean? It sort of made sense now. Adults have never been good at taking people your age seriously. Especially if it's a grown man being asked to listen to a young woman. Unless of course, that young woman has something to offer him.

"So you were scared of what Elise might have done, then you saved your ass by pretending you didn't know me?" You ask, not really angry just trying to understand.

"I hate myself for it, but yes." He says.

"How did she even know you'd be there?" You ask, realizing how stupid the question is.

"Elliot told Annette, then Annette told Elise. You know how it goes." Annette is obviously one of the two girls that accompanied Elise that night.

"She was the one stalking me." He says.

"Stalking you?" You ask, your eyebrows shooting up in shock.

Just then the waitress shows up with your milkshakes and fries, sets them down quietly and asks if you need anything else. You say "no thank you" a little too quickly, trying to get back to the story James is telling as fast as you can.

"You've gotta be kidding me." You say, popping a fry in your mouth. Your anger is disappearing slowly, but you still cling to the fact that he hasn't made it right until now though.

"She was obsessed with me man." He says, sipping his shake.

"I caught her driving past my house, I even caught her looking in my bedroom window when I came home one night. I was scared what she might do to you if I didn't go along with what she wanted at prom." He seems genuinely stressed, visibly upset by how everything played out.

You just sit and listen, munching on your fries, occasionally drinking your shake. Every part of you wants to be mad at him, to yell at him for not making it right before now. He didn't even want to make it right really, he just happened to be at the dance hall tonight. By pure coincidence he saw Daniel dragging you out of there. Right? He couldn't have known you would be there tonight… unless.

"Molly?" You ask, realization suddenly hitting you like a bus.

He's not confused at all, his eyes just go wide.

"Molly set this up with you didn't she?" You say, voice growing in volume.

"She may have given me a call." He says calmly.

"Oh my God." You whisper.

"Doll, please-." You cut him off by staring daggers at him for using the nickname.

"Sorry, just please hear me out." He says cautiously.

"That's what I've been doing." You scoff.

He ignores your snark and keeps talking, taking it as some form of permission.

"I couldn't show any sign that I knew you at prom, for obvious reasons. I couldn't come talk to you after, I never found out where you live, I never got your phone number, I had no way of reaching you except for at school where you wouldn't even look at me. For good reason I know, but I just couldn't get to you." The words spill out of his mouth like he's running out of time.

"Then of course there was Elise, she was always breathing down my neck constantly. I tried to confront her one time, asked her what the hell her problem was. All she said was that I should watch it or she would get the principal involved. I can only guess that her rich ass parents were pumping money into the school, or maybe she was-"

"Or she was sleeping with the principal?" You interrupt to ask out of morbid curiosity, your eyebrows high and eyes wide.

"That's a possibility." James says.

"Either way, she had some kind of hold on him. Something that made it very difficult for him to combat anything she told him." He says.

"Jesus, this is like some twisted murder novel." You exclaim.

"Now I hate to use this line, but please believe me when I say this." He says with begging eyes.

"In a very messy way, I was trying to protect you. And when you wanted nothing to do with me, I couldn't force myself back into your life because that would just make you hate me more. I couldn't tell the school the truth because Elise would have dragged you down with me. If it had just been my own ass on the line I would have told everyone and their mother the truth, but I couldn't let her make things worse for you."

You both sit in silence, him waiting for a response, you waiting for him to go on.

"As soon as I could I found Molly and told her everything. She told me it would be hard to do, but that she was certain we could fix this."

"Traitor." You mutter, earning a chuckle from him.

"I had to wait. I'm not just saying this to sound dramatic, I was genuinely afraid of what Elise might do if she ever found out how I felt about you. Which are feelings I still have, by the way." He says quietly.

You just sit there, dumbfounded. He was being stalked, genuinely stalked. That's why he was so stiff that night, so unlike himself. Holy shit. James actually has a pretty good reason for what he did. It's not perfect by far, and you could sit here all night arguing about other options he may or may not have had. That would be a waste of time though. There's just one question burning in the back of your mind.

"Why didn't you ask Molly where I live, or what number to call?" You ask.

"I told you, I couldn't force myself into your life with you already so angry with me. While Elise could hurt me with words, I'm quite confident you could whoop my ass if I pushed you enough." He says, a teasing smile on his lips.

"I didn't want to ruin it doll, the most I could hope for was a night like tonight. I told you, I had to just wait. If I had pushed you or cornered you that would have been the last straw and you know it. I had to hold on to that hope that I had a sliver of a chance to…" He stops for a second, his face knits into a very pensive look.

"A chance to love you again." He finishes, seemingly content with the words he's found.

You hate how much sense it all makes. If Elise is really that batshit, he really had no other option than to just let everything play out until he could find a way to talk to you. A chance like tonight.

"That afternoon, it's irreplaceable. I know a lot of it happened really fast, and a lot of it was really intense." He says, the look in his eyes tells you he's thinking about the way you made love. Both of you were so reckless and full of passion. Your chest burns with desire, heart aching for his touch again.

"Well then what about now, James? Are we supposed to just be together and expect Elise to be over it just because we're not at school anymore? Is she still stalking you?" You ask.

"She's not here anymore. Her family moved to Florida, not before she broke one of the windows in my house for not calling her back though." He says and lets out a little laugh.

"Well shit." You say.

"So let me get everything straight. One of your friends let it slip to one of her friends that you would be at prom. She surprise attacked you and then you panicked and did your best to make it seem like you didn't know in an attempt to protect me. That wasn't good enough for her, so she started the rumors about me being your stalker for good measure?" You ask.

He nods silently.

"Then I was so pissed off that I wouldn't talk to you, for good reason in my mind. You couldn't expose the rumors as lies without painting an even bigger target on my back, so you just gave me my space, waited for Elise to not be a problem anymore, then conspired with my best friend to get me to the dance hall so you could finally have your chance to explain?"

Another quiet nod.

You chew your lip, it does all add up. You try to think of what you would have done in that situation. Of course you want to say you would never throw James under the bus, you would stand up for him and bravely profess your love, but human nature is a bitch. People panic and scramble to do what they think is best based on instinct. That's what James had done. You can't even be mad at him for not trying to get you alone to talk sooner, because you know you would have been too blinded with rage to do anything except flail your fists at him like you had earlier tonight.

"I am so fucking sorry doll." You don't even flinch at the name now.

"After I've said all of that, I need you to know that I know it's my fault. I should have told you about Elise that night on the roof, I should have warned you and kept you safe that way. I just didn't know how to really throw in the fact that I was being stalked without absolutely ruining everything. It was all so perfect, everything was perfect with you. It was all so new and overwhelming, I couldn't think straight. So when I saw you there, in those damn boots and that dress, I just fucking panicked. I only ever wanted to keep you safe, that's all I wanted. I just fucked it up. I really fucked it up." There are tears in his eyes now, he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and breathes deeply in through his nose.

He's watching you with those beautiful eyes, waiting for you to say something, anything.

Then it hits you, there's something he still hasn't done. With Elise gone he has no reason to not tell everyone she made it all up.

"Then why haven't you told everyone the truth? That I never stalked you, that Elise did, that it was all a lie and-"

"I have, everyone I could get to listen, I told. I told them as soon as Elise left." He says.

It makes sense that you never heard of him doing so. You've avoided everyone from highschool since you graduated. That would definitely explain the lack of stares and whispering at the dance hall. Your presence no longer caused anxiety in everyone, because they knew the truth.

"Why didn't you ever call the police on her Buck?" You ask, slipping back into the habit of using his nickname. His shoulders relax a little bit when he hears it leave your lips.

"What good would that do? She's too young to go to jail, so the only other place they'd put her in is the asylum." He says, his voice very serious.

You start to feel very sorry for Elise. She has all that beauty, but she's so very sick. You understand how somebody could be that crazy over James, he's everything a girl could want. Your mind wanders to what all Elise must have been through in order to be so unstable. Your heart aches for the girl you only spoke to once. You had seen her around school a handful of times now that you think about it hard enough. Always smiling, always talking to somebody, always looking so pretty. Even after she ruined prom for both of you, even after she stalked him at his house and damaged his property, he didn't want to ruin her life.

"Her friends came and talked to me after she started driving by my house. Of course I asked them what was wrong with her, all they could say was that her parents were both too obsessed with their wealthy socialite lives to give her the time of day, so she became desperate for any attention she could get, to the point of getting involved with faculty. They told me her family was moving eventually and begged me to let them and Elise's parents deal with the situation. That way Elise wouldn't get herself into a bigger mess." He says the last part with a low serious voice, your jaw drops when you catch his implication.

"Good God." You gape at him.

"So they begged you to wait until she had moved to tell everyone the truth, so she wouldn't snap and get herself into legal trouble?" You ask, filling in the blanks, everything making sense now.

He nods, "She left two weeks after graduation. She came to my house and cried on my porch for two hours the morning they moved."

He seems like he feels guilty, like he wishes he had done more.

"There's a million things I could have done differently, and I'm so sorry for all the things I should have done. I'm sorry for not telling you everything right away, I'm sorry for being so fucking cold to you at prom, I-"

"James." You say, reaching across the table to grab his hand, he stills completely and looks at you like a deer in headlights.

"It's ok. It was all a shitshow, and you were doing the best you could. I understand now, I can see how you were just trying to protect everyone. It's ok." You tell him.

Every ounce of anger and pain has left your body. It all makes sense now. James did all that he could to keep everyone involved from hurting anymore than they already were. At his own expense, maybe his execution wasn't flawless, but he did everything he could to make it right. He's still doing everything he can. He's sitting here with you, begging you for another chance, owning up to all the ways he fucked up. Had he really though? You realize something you haven't yet, James may very well have the biggest heart of anyone you know. Filled with enough kindness to even want to protect a person who made his life hell.

"She's sick James, you didn't want to fuck her life up anymore than it already had been. I don't blame you for that, I don't blame you for how you handled it." You explain.

God this night has done a complete turn around. As soon as you saw him, you agreed to talking with him and you fully expected him to tell you that he and Elise had been together all along, that he had gotten caught up in the moment with you and that he was sorry for leading you on. You never imagined that James had been carrying this load all by himself the past few months. It's all absolutely insane, and incredibly difficult to wrap your mind around. You feel so much relief at the fact that James had never lied to you about his feelings, and a significant amount of guilt for never reaching out to him to give him a chance to explain.

"I'm sorry that I never even-"

"Doll, don't. You had every reason to cut me out of your life. You were trying to protect yourself." He says, he squeezes your hand for reassurance.

You feel like you should have trusted what you shared that afternoon instead of acting purely on emotion, then maybe you would have been able to heal quicker. Then you remember the sensitive timeline with Elise, she would have done everything in her power to ruin what you and James have if she had been around to see it. Everything that happened had to happen that way for the safety of everyone involved.

"I haven't stopped loving you. I can't, I know I can't. Which sounds absolutely fucking insane, but I just feel it. You're still the most incredible thing I've ever seen." He says.

You don't even feel like you're in the diner anymore, it feels like you've floated to the roof and you're suspended in the sky, high off of the feeling of being loved again.

"It's ok if you can't say it back, I know we've only really spent half of a day together, but I've been miserable without you and I can't see myself ever feeling this way about somebody else so, I know what I feel. I know that I love you." He says it like somebody's about to cover his mouth to stop him from telling you.

You open your mouth to tell him that you love him too, that everything is ok, that you guys are going to figure it out, but you freeze when you hear the bell of the door jingle then see a large man in uniform walk through the door. You feel your entire body tense up, anxiety welling in your chest as your throat closes and your palms begin to sweat.

"Oh shit." You say quietly.

It's fucking Daniel, how the hell did he find you? He's accompanied by the boy that danced with Molly, and one other stocky blond man.

"What?" He asks, bewildered he turns his head towards the door.

"Oh shit." He says, whipping his head back around to look at you with terrified eyes.

"What's the plan if he-" James starts to say, but he's cut off by a loud voice.

"Hey punk, that's my girl you're sitting with." Daniel states, slurring his words just a little at the end.

James' chest inflates and he gives you a stern look. Anger flashes in his eyes.

"James don't." You try to say it as harshly as you can, but he's already moving before you can get the words out.

Everyone in the diner is frozen, watching with dropped jaws and wide eyes. Even the wait staff has paused to observe, those behind the counter have halted their cooking so they can gawk. This stupid small town, everyone's always so desperate for drama.

"Oddly enough, I don't remember her ever agreeing to be your girl." James starts, rolling up his sleeves as he talks. Is this idiot really about to try and fight off three soldiers?

"-but you don't strike me as a man who cares too much about consent." He says, dropping his voice a little to stress the weighty implications of his words.

Daniel's fists ball up at his sides, his friends start to glance around the diner with anxious eyes.

"Boys, if there's to be a fight y'all better take it outside." One of the older waitresses says loudly, obviously sick and tired of all these young bucks bringing their nonsense into her diner.

"What a great idea ma'am. Shall we gentlemen?" James asks with all the confidence in the world. God he really is an idiot.

"James-" You start, but the men are already stomping through the door into the parking lot.

"Fucking hell." You huff, you throw money down on the table out of your clutch, inevitably taking out way too much for some shakes and a plate of fries.

"Keep the change!" You say with an urgent voice as you gather yourself and run towards the door.

The boys have circled around to the side of the building, horrible fluorescent lights illuminating the scene. They've got James completely surrounded, almost backing him into a wall already. You know you aren't going to be able to stop this, not with all the damn testosterone and adrenaline already pumping through all of them. The most you can do is make sure it's a fair fight.

"Alright look. If y'all are gonna fight, you're not going to do this bullshit where you just outnumber him so you can win." You nearly shout.

"This is between James and Daniel, you goons need to step off." You say it like you're a strict teacher telling them off for whispering in class. You can't fucking believe that you're playing referee for this idiotic dick measuring contest.

"Unless you're all cowards who don't feel like you could beat him unless the fight is unfair." You finish then cross your arms, your plan to challenge their masculinity obviously working.

"I could take this prick in my sleep." Daniel says, rolling up his sleeves with clumsy drunk hands, "Watch and learn boys." His two friends glance at each other then take the cue to step back and let this fight be his.

James gives you a quick look, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a cocky smirk. His eyes say thank you, while he rolls his shoulders back and brings his fists up while Daniel steps towards him. Your fool in shining armor runs a hand through his hair and winks at you, you assume to thank you for getting Daniel's cronies to back off. You internally curse him for looking so damn handsome.

"Was one hit not enough pal? You want some more?" James says, cocky as ever. Your stomach twists with nerves, he's pushing it. He and Daniel are about the same size. Daniel is maybe an inch or two taller, but James has more bulk to him. Of course you want to say James is going to win, but it could really go either way.

Daniel sneers at him then cracks his knuckles, taking a hulking step towards James. James opens his mouth to make another snarky remark, but is cut short by Daniel's fist landing right on his jaw. Right where you hit him earlier. It makes a horrible cracking sound and blood sprays out of his mouth. You gasp and have to fight the urge to run and stand between them, knowing that would only make James more bent on fighting for you.

He seems completely dazed by the impact, stumbling back while he holds his face. He pulls his right hand away to look at the blood pouring out of his mouth. Before you can even process it, Daniel lunges at James, knocking him to the ground. They both smack on the pavement with a grunt, Daniel has James pinned to the ground and he just starts swinging, hitting anywhere he can, much like you did earlier. Except Daniel is drawing blood. James has his arms up, acting like a cage over his face. They're taking most of the blows, but Daniel occasionally gets his fist through to hit his face again.

"Fucking do something!" You scream at his gawking friends. They both jump and look at each other, not having any idea what to do.

"Stop!" You scream, running over to where Daniel is still laying into James.

You know you won't stand a chance just using your fists, so all you can think to do is kick. Kick like hell. You run up to Daniel, you bring your upper body in tight then let your right leg swing forward, bringing your foot full force into Daniel's face. He howls and falls back off of James, who takes the opportunity to jump and scramble backwards.

"You fucking whore!" Daniel yells, standing up to stalk towards you. That's when his friends finally intervene, each grabbing an arm to hold him back.

"Call the police, somebody call the police!" A woman's voice yells from behind you. You look wildly around, unaware of the crowd that had gathered.

Daniel and his friends panic at those words, faces white as they scramble back towards their car. Daniel turns and spits at you, swearing under his breath while his friends drag him away.

You hear James groan and your heart freezes in your chest. He's lying flat on his back, hands holding his face.

"Oh God, James." You run to him and drop to your knees. There's blood coming from his nose and his mouth, and his left eye is already swelling. He lets out a breathy laugh, gazing at you with heavy eyelids.

"I'm alright doll, doesn't hurt half as bad as when you socked me." He says, lopsided smirk spreading across his lips.

"You fucking idiot. Bucky, what the hell were you thinking?" You ask, cradling his head, you wipe his hair off of his forehead and cup his jaw. He looks up at you with an earnest look in his bright blue eyes, they appear almost silver in this lighting.

"He said you were his girl." He says with a weak voice.

"So?!" You almost yell at him, but you catch yourself.

"You're my girl." He says simply, then he winces and screws his eyes shut. His face relaxes and his head goes limp and falls to the side. Your chest fills with terror.

"James? James!" You yell, shaking him while you do. You know he isn't dead, but he's still unconscious, and that's enough to panic you. You hear somebody yell about an ambulance, but all you can focus on is James. God, this is all your fault.

@b-o-n-e-daddy @lillsrecs @all-art-is-quite-useless @brownlee-22 @peace-love-hobbitness @pinknerdpanda @supernaturalwintersoldier @can-i-sin-right-now @pennyroyalcreep @jessyballet @calwitch @aurora-sweet @learisa

[wordsandshawn]

Before Now - chapter 19

In this chapter ... Shawn’s sick and on vocal rest and not supposed to be in Skylar’s hotel room. 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.4k 

Catch up on previous chapters here

Shawn starts stirring in the bed after only ten minutes. The movement catches my attention, and I watch him wake up slowly. He spots the candle first before looking around the room and noticing me. “Hey,” He mumbles, but his voice is raspy.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, watching him carefully.

“Shitty.” He responds, keeping his answer short.  

“What hurts?” I ask, moving across the room to retrieve the cup of tea I had bought for him.

He points to his throat silently, and I realize that he’s probably not supposed to talk. I offer him the tea, and he takes it. He doesn’t ask what it is, and I don’t think it needs an explanation. He takes a sip, wincing a bit, and I guess it must hurt him to swallow.

“Are you on vocal rest?” I ask, and he just nods.  

Shawn continues drinking the tea, and a few seconds of silence pass between us. I grab the other cup of tea and climb onto the bed next to Shawn. Pulling my knees to my chest, facing him as I take a sip of the tea. I have so many questions, but I feel like I can’t ask them because he’s not allowed to talk.

So instead of asking anything, I sit there in silence, sipping my tea as Shawn does the same on the other side of the bed. I have all the time to think since we can’t exactly talk. The most pressing question on my mind is why is he here? Why did he come to my hotel room, and why did he stay even when I wasn’t even here? I know that he didn’t want to talk to anyone, at least that’s what Zubin and Josiah made it seem like. And I know that no one was really supposed to be talking or communicating with him as evidenced by his missing name on the list of hotel room numbers, meaning that we weren’t even supposed to know what room he was staying in. I don’t think that anyone would have bothered him, but I guess Andrew didn’t want to even take that chance. Or maybe Shawn didn’t. I’m not sure and I can’t exactly ask. The questions inside keep bubbling to the surface, but I don’t ask them. Finally, after about a minute, I can’t take it any longer. I retrieve my phone from the chair and open up the notes app. I hand the phone to Shawn, and he looks at the empty note before looking up at me expectantly. I don’t have to explain for him to understand.

“Why’d you come here?” I ask the question I have been wondering about since I discovered him here in my hotel room instead of his.

He immediately stares down at the phone, but he doesn’t start typing right away. He looks exhausted instead of just sleepy all of a sudden. I almost take the question back, feeling like it wasn’t appropriate to ask and wondering if it sounded accusatory. But his fingers start moving before I can say anything else. He stops typing and pauses before finally turning the phone, so I can see what he wrote. I didn’t want to be alone. I read the words, absorbing them, and I can feel his gaze on me. He’s watching for my reaction.

I can feel the vulnerability in that sentence, and I know the feeling. It’s why I showed up at his hotel room in the middle of the night the last time we stayed at a hotel.

“I went out to get some things for you.” I say, suddenly remembering the bag with the teddy bear in it and using it as an excuse to change the subject. The teddy bear is a miniature version of one Shawn used to have when we were kids. It was his teddy bear, but he’d always let me cuddle with it whenever I was over. I loved that teddy bear, and he never let on that he cared about it, but he also kept that teddy bear even when he was “too old” to have any other stuffed animals.

Retrieving the tiny bear, I present it to him. He smiles a genuine smile, and I can’t ignore the way that seeing him like that made my heart jump in my chest. “I didn’t want you to be alone either.” I admit. “I tried to go to your room, but I didn’t know your room number.”

He nods, his way of responding since he can’t say anything. He takes the teddy bear, gently squeezing it in his hand and holding it close to his chest. The way he’s looking at me, I know he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He’s not supposed to talk, and typing isn’t an ideal way to have a conversation.

His eyes drop back to my phone, and he starts typing again. I wait patiently for him to finish and show me. Sorry I came. I know I shouldn’t have, but I can’t stop thinking about the canceled show, and how many people I disappointed, and I just couldn’t stay in my hotel room any longer.  

“It’s okay. I’m glad you came.” I respond, honestly. I know I’ve been telling Shawn to stay away from me and to keep everything professional, but deep in my heart, I never truly meant it.  Ever since I joined Shawn on tour, he’s been reaching out, trying to help me, but I’ve been pushing him away. It’s easier for me to push away someone trying to help me, but he’s the one that needs me now, and I know that I won’t push him away.

“Shawn, you’re human. You get sick. It happens, and it isn’t your fault.” I try encouraging him, but the look on his face tells me that he doesn’t believe what I’m saying, so I try again. Even though he’s not saying anything, I can already guess that his thoughts are spiraling. He’s thinking of everything he should have done to avoid getting sick. He’s thinking that people are upset with him, and that he let people down. “Hey, Shawn. Listen to me.” I say firmly in an attempt to interrupt his thoughts. “That’s not important right now.”

I put my cup down on the nightstand before taking Shawn’s cup and my phone from him, placing both items on the nightstand as well. I blow out the candle, just in case.

He sits still, watching me as I move the pillows then lean against them before reaching out to him. He responds to my body language, lying down next to me, allowing me to wrap my arm around him. His side presses against mine. This is the most physical contact that we’ve had in a long time, but I try not to think about that. Despite being much taller than me, he fits in the space next to me perfectly. “Stop. Just try to stop thinking.” I say, keeping my voice low. “Rest, okay. That’s what you need right now.”

He nods, and I run my fingers through his curls, gently massaging his scalp in a way that used to make him relax and fall asleep almost instantly. I pray it still has the same effect on him. Despite the time that has passed since we were so close, he’s still so familiar to me.

“Ky?” He questions after a few minutes of silence. I thought he was falling asleep, but I guess not.

My fingers freeze, still lingering in his hair. “Shawn, you’re not supposed to talk,” I say with a sigh.  

He scoots away from me just enough to prop himself up on his elbow so that he can see my face. “I’m sorry.” He says. But his tone doesn’t sound like he’s apologizing for accidentally talking when he shouldn’t have.

However, since I can’t think of anything else Shawn would be apologizing for in this moment, I just say, “Okay, go to sleep.” I move to make more room for him to lie back down, but he doesn’t.

“No, I have to say this now or I might not get the chance.” His voice is so raspy, and I’m scared he’s about to ruin it if he continues talking.  

“Shawn, don’t.” I say, mostly worried about his voice since I have no idea what he’s trying to say. For as long as I’ve known Shawn, I’ve always known him to take himself and his career very seriously. I know he’s been on vocal rest at least a couple of times before, and during those times, I had never heard him utter a single word. His voice is his career, and he knows that.

“I’m sorry for not being there for you when we dated. I’m sorry for hurting you. I really wanted us to work out.” He admits, sounding so broken and sad.

“Shawn, that was a long time ago,” I respond.  

“But we never talked about it. You rarely ever came home after that. And we never talked about us.” He whispers so forcefully it catches me off guard.

I honestly had no idea that Shawn even cared. I always just assumed he was too busy dating models and beautiful girls to even have any thoughts about us ending. Especially because there were so many pictures in the press of him with other girls after we were over.

“How about we talk about this later, yeah?” I suggest, knowing he’s still not feeling well and wanting him to rest. Shawn has always been very thoughtful, and he can get into his head sometimes, which is how I know that he will stay awake thinking and deliberating and replaying any moment in his head, unless I can get him to stop and just rest.

“You’ll talk to me?” He asks, and I realize that my attempt to keep myself safe from getting hurt again has been hurting Shawn this entire time.

“Yeah, S. When you’re feeling better, we’ll talk.” I respond, using my nickname for him. The one I haven’t used since we broke up. The expression on his face changes slightly and briefly, but I know that he noticed that I called him S, not Shawn. Just like how I notice every time he calls me Ky instead of Skylar.

Shawn nods and scoots closer to me, cuddling into my side again. I close my eyes, relaxing against him, and resume threading my fingers through his curls. After five more minutes, his breathing evens out, and I’m grateful he’s not stressed or upset, even if only for a little while as he sleeps. I refuse to move, not wanting to risk waking him, so after a while of staring at the ceiling and trying to sort through what happened today, I finally fall asleep too.

I wake up to an incessant buzzing sound. It’s coming from somewhere on the bed, although I don’t know where. The hotel room is nearly dark, signaling that the sun has set outside. Shawn is still asleep next to me. I decide that whoever is on the other side of the phone can wait because Shawn looks so peaceful.  

I’m trying to fall back asleep when I hear the buzzing again. When the phone starts buzzing a third time, I finally move to search for it. Shawn starts waking up as soon as I move away from him, but I continue on the search under pillows and blankets for Shawn’s incessantly buzzing phone. When I finally locate it, Shawn’s completely awake and looking around confused, although he doesn’t say anything. I see that Andrew’s name is lighting up the screen, and I offer it to him, “Andrew is calling.”

He takes it from me but doesn’t attempt to answer and it goes to voicemail.

“Aren’t you going to text him?” I ask before adding, “He called like three times.”

Shawn just shakes his head, sitting up only to wrap and arm around me, pulling me back down next to him.

“Shawn, what are you doing?” I ask, now lying beside him.

He doesn’t speak, just pulls me closer, resting his chin against the top of my head. As much as I know I should figure out what Andrew wanted or at least let him know that Shawn’s okay, the feeling of his arms around me feels too comforting for me to give up right now.

I don’t say anything else, and Shawn falls asleep again ten minutes later. After waiting for a while to make sure he’s sleeping deeply, I carefully maneuver out of his arms. This time, I make it without waking him, and I sigh in relief. Retrieving my phone off the night stand, I open my messages and create a text to Andrew. Just thought you should know Shawn’s okay. He’s sleeping in my hotel room.

Andrew replies within seconds. Have him text me when he wakes up. I let Andrew know that I will and then grab my phone, wallet and room key before venturing off to a café I remember seeing earlier today. Shawn has been only sleeping in short bursts, so I want to grab some food before he wakes again.

He’s awake and on his phone when I enter the hotel room with the bag of food. When he sees me, he sits up.

“Hey, I bought dinner.” I say, holding up the bag of food as an explanation for why I left while he was asleep.

“I got you chicken soup. It probably won’t be as good as your moms, but it’s the best I could do.” I say with a shrug, pulling the bowl out and handing it to Shawn. He’s typing on his phone, but then he looks up and grabs the food as my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Shawn: Thank you.

“You’re welcome.” I say, handing him a spoon. He barely eats half of his soup before pushing it away and lying back down on the bed. Even though he slept most of the afternoon away, I can tell he clearly still doesn’t feel well.

I’m eating my sandwich in silence when a loud knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. I slide off the bed and pad over to the door, sandwich still in hand.

“What’s going on here?” Andrew asks, his voice sharp and accusatory, and I can’t help but shrink back.

“Nothing,” I try answering.

“Shawn was supposed to meet with his doctor two hours ago, but we couldn’t find him. He waited around a while, but he had to go. He’s finally on his way back now to check on Shawn.” Andrew says.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t – I didn’t know.” I respond. I knew that Andrew never really liked me, but he’s never been so openly angry at me.

“It’s not her fault.” Shawn speaks up from behind me.

“You aren’t supposed to be talking.” Andrew responds, his finger pointed at Shawn. “Skylar, please go wait outside.” Andrew says, and Shawn shakes his head no, and reaches for my arm, but Andrew is standing between us now. I don’t want to risk arguing or making anything worse, so I step outside, and sit down in the hallway.

I can only hear the sound of Andrew’s voice, although I can’t make out what he’s saying. I know Shawn isn’t even supposed to be talking, so I’m pretty sure the conversation is one sided. After a few minutes, a guy who’s clearly a doctor comes walking down the hotel hallway toward me. He stops at the door, glancing down at me, “Hello.” He says, before knocking.

“Hi.” I whisper back as the door opens.

“Hi Dr. Diaz, come in.” Andrew says, sounding friendly, a huge contrast from how he spoke to us not long ago. “Again, I’m so sorry about earlier, but thank you for coming back.” I hear him say before the door closes behind them, leaving me alone in the hallway again.

I stare at my hands, wondering just how bad this is going to be. I know that Andrew has the power to fire me. I know that he didn’t want to hire me in the first place, but I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.

The door opens again, jerking me from my thoughts, and Andrew steps out. He leaves the door open a tiny bit so that we don’t get locked out, and he pulls out a hotel key card. “Here is the key to Shawn’s hotel room. It’s room 1538. You’ll stay there tonight.” I must look confused, because he says. “Shawn needs rest, not a distraction.” I swallow hard to keep my emotions at bay.

Standing up, I finally say, “I need to get my stuff.”

“Do it quickly. You have two minutes.” He responds, his face practically expressionless.

I nod, and he opens the door, letting me slip inside. When I walk inside, Shawn’s eyes are closed, and the doctor is basically looking down his throat. I gather the things I need in less than a minute. I want to say goodbye to Shawn, but he still hasn’t opened his eyes and I don’t want to get yelled at by Andrew, so I just slip out.

I make my way up to Shawn’s room and enter using the key card that Andrew gave me. Shawn’s backpack is on the floor, the only sign that Shawn was ever here at all. The bed is still perfectly made and everything else it the room seems untouched.

By now it’s nearly nine at night, so I pull out my laptop to get some editing done, but I’m too distracted by my thoughts to make much progress. My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Shawn. Where did you go?

Andrew told me to stay in your room tonight. I type the response and then hit send.

Another message comes in less than thirty seconds later 😔Come back

I can’t. Andrew said you need rest. I respond, before turning my attention back to my screen. I check my phone a few minutes later, but there’s no response from Shawn. I realize he’s probably not going to respond, and it’s best if he just goes to sleep. Suddenly, I hear a knock at my door. My first thought is that it’s probably Andrew coming to yell at me or something, but I also wonder if maybe it’s Shawn. I push that thought away as I walk toward the door, knowing he’s sick, so he’s probably not leaving my room.

When I look through the peephole, I see a very tired, slightly grumpy looking Shawn standing there. I pull open the door, not bothering to hide my relief over the fact that he’s not Andrew trying to yell at me.

“What are you doing here?” I question, but Shawn just enters the room instead of responding. “You’re not supposed to be here.” I say, stating the obvious, but again, Shawn doesn’t reply, and I can’t exactly get angry at him, knowing that he’s on vocal rest, and truthfully, he looks so cute, and I wanted to see him more than I even realized before he showed up.

He simply grabs his toothbrush from his backpack and disappears into the bathroom. I sit back down and continue working. Shawn still doesn’t say anything when he returns from the bathroom, and a part of me knows that I should probably go back to my room, leaving Shawn here to rest alone, but I don’t leave because the truth is I don’t want to.

When he comes back into the room, he walks over to me, gazing over my shoulder at the video I’m editing. “I thought maybe you could post something since you’re weren’t able to play the show tonight.” I explain.

He nods his approval, but then picks up my laptop and moves it to the bed, before returning and taking my hand, gently pulling me toward the bed too. I don’t argue, standing up and following him to the bed. I sit down, pulling my laptop onto my lap as Shawn curls up beside me, falling asleep almost immediately. I finish editing, sending the video to Andrew, before letting myself go to bed as well.

.

.

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Just one more chapter until this series is officially completed! Please let me know your thoughts and feedback. I always appreciate reading comments! 

Chapter 20

[statticscribbles]

Strep

Summary: Sweet Pea/Archie Friendship Request:  strep throat is going around school and sweet pea and archie both catch it again get sent to the nurse and get check out (sore throats fever aches etc) they get sent home but sweet pea home life obviously not that good and papa fred decides bring sweet pea home as well . Sweet pea about it because hes never had anyone care for him ill. and take care of the 2 sick teens, which includes now them actually bonding becoming friends.

Archie refuses to admit he’s leaning on Sweet Pea and Sweet pea will say the same. Fred Andrews manages to sneak a picture when they think he’s talking to the nurse and they’re too tired to move more than the faint grumble of a hello. “Nurse said it seems you two caught the strep throat going around; you both have fevers though so home it is.” Archie groans as he stands stumbling and slumping over to shuffle forward. Sweet Pea glares as his head thunks agains the wall now that Archie’s left his side.

“Alright come one you two. Bedrest and maybe ice cream if you feel up to it.” “’kay dad, nurse said I should get pills too, from the doctor.” Archie slurs coughing and cringing each time. “Archie I understood maybe five of those words, we’ll give it two days then make a doctors visit alright?” “Just up turn up here; Mr. Andrews.” Sweet Pea speaks coughing only slightly. “I know how to get home Sweet Pea. I’ve lived there for years.” “Wrong home.” He sighs slumping against the window shaking his head. “I’m pretty sure I’ve always lived on Elm street, now come on; out of the car, we’ll get you set up on the couch so you two can watch some horribly corny movie.” “Mr. Andrews I should go home I don’t want-“

“Archie’s already sick; besides he told me you live alone, what if you choke on a cough drop.” Fred nods as he nudges Sweet pea to sit on the couch placing a bowl of cough drops next to the two extra boxes of tissues. “We have strep throat, not a cold.” Archie glares at his dad. “Son, I’m almost fifty, I’ve had strep throat more times than you’ve been alive, leave the tissues alone.” Sweet Pea laughs into the blanket before it turns into a cough and he reaches for a tissue spitting phlegm into it grimacing. “See.” “Thanks dad.” Archie sighs leaning against the back of the couch, while Sweet Pea curls into the opposite side.

Archie wakes up to hear Sweet Pea mumbling and coughing as Fred sits in between them. “Sweet Pea it’s fine, we have the space; it’s no trouble, I don’t like the idea of you being home alone. Seriously it’s no problem; Arch is going to have to go to the doctor anyways it’s no problem.” “Allergic, it’ll cost more.” “What do you mean?” Fred questions and Archie ignores how he brushes sweet Pea’s hair back hand hovering to feel for a fever. “Allergic to Penicillin; the other medication costs more.” “That’s fine; you know strep can go away on it’s own, the antibiotics are just a precaution is all. Just in case. You don’t need to take it. There’s a bed in the spare room if you need; please, just ask.” Fred leave to the kitchen and Archie pretends to wake enough that Sweet Pea turns watching him. “S’okay you know.” Sweet Pea rasps.

“What?” “You hatin’ me still, I know being sick doesn’t change anything. Probably makes you hate me more. Stealing your couch and blankets.” Sweet Pea coughs, hacking as he reaches for the tissues which Archie nudges over. “If anything this is helping me view you as an equal; not that I don’t think you are just-“ “Liar. I know you hate me; you turn away any chance you get.” “Scared.” “Scared? You have a gun, that way outranks any damage I could do to you.” “That’s why. I could hurt you worse, you were trying to defend your friends and I could’ve seriously hurt you, or them and-“

“It’s the past. Stop worrying over than shit, the guns gone anyways. Doesn’t matter anymore.” “It does; it-“ “You gonna get another gun and wave it around? No, then it’s not a problem.” Sweet Pea grumbles putting a hand firmly on Archie’s shoulder. “You need to stop worrying about how everyone feels about you and-“ He breaks off for both of them to cough and Fred to peer his head in. “You two hungry? Try some ice cream at least.” He nods to them when they shake their heads. Sweet Pea chuckles when he’s offered a bowl. “What?” “Your dad worked at Pop’s.” “What makes you say that?” Archie tilts his head and Sweet Pea nods to the ice cream.

“He put a smiley face in the whipped cream, Pop’s used to to that when- when I’d get ice cream there.” “You went to Pop’s before coming to Riverdale?” “Yeah once or twice, it’s Riverdale’s best burger joint.” “It’s Riverdale’s only burger joint; it’s why it’ll never close.” “Could’a fooled me with that retro night they had.” He laughs and Archie turns confused. “You were there?” Sweet Pea shakes his head. “Nah, Fangs went to pick up shakes for everyone; he’s the reason Toni got with Cheryl.” “No he’s not, is he?” Archie questions and Sweet Pea smirks.

“Whatever that performance she put on he got a few clips of it, Toni lost the plot when she saw Cheryl on the roof.” Archie tries to laugh but it just devolves into a coughing fit with Sweet Pea hovering nervously with the tissue box. “Thanks, water’d be better if you-“ Sweet Pea moves to stand crashing onto the arm chair instead of towards the kitchen. “Jesus Christ Sweet Pea.” Sweet Pea cringes slightly gripping his head as he stands slowly. ‘Sorry Mr. Andrews I-“ “Are you okay?” “What?”

“Are you okay, here, sit.” Sweet Pea sits back and Archie drapes his blanket over Sweet Pea’s shoulders. “It’s fine, just stood up too fast. It’s fine; just a little dizzy.” “When did you last eat?” Sweet Pea turns to Fred. “I had breakfast it’s only like 11 now.” “Fangs said you didn’t-“ Sweet Pea glares at him and Archie keeps his gaze before Fred’s hand nudges his shoulder. “Sweet Pea, I can make you-“ “No, it’s fine; really I can eat when I get home so you don’t have to do anything.”

“Just let my dad help you Sweet Pea. You won’t be weak, we’re not going to rat you out to the Serpents.” Sweet Pea sighs looking away from them and reaching for the tissues. Neither Fred or Archie say anything about him wiping his eyes. “I’m not scared of being weak; I don’t know what to do when people are nice to me, it’s just; it doesn’t make sense why anyone would help me. I’m nothing; not any good at anything besides being a snake.” He mumbles and Archie hesitates arm wrapping around his shoulders.

“You’re a good sick buddy; I heard from Fangs you’re great at movie commentary, you ever watch National Treasure?” Archie smirks and Sweet Pea laughs. “Are we really going to watch the declaration of independence get stolen?” “Did you know I convinced Jughead it was a documentary for an entire month.” “Seriously?” Archie nods and Sweet Pea almost chokes again as he laughs. He smirks pulling his phone and taking a picture of the loading screen captioning it with a “best documentary award goes to” Archie gets five angry texts in a row and both he and Sweet Pea have to take five minutes with there head between there knees while Fred pulls there phones away and dims the living room lights they end up laughing so hard. “I don’t want to have to explain to Dr. Curdle why you two died watching national treasure; that poor man goes through enough on his own.” “Yeah I hear people are dying to get to visit him.” Archie chokes on his water and Fred points at Sweet Pea in warning.

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Monster

Day 29: Monster Rating/Warnings: T (minor language, angst, manipulation) Timeline: Canon, between the end of S1 and the beginning of S3 Summary: When the guards throw the kid into Andrew’s cell, he thinks they’re kidding.

A/N: Got another Tangledtober 2018 oneshot for yall, this one finally gave me an opportunity to explore the dynamic between Varian and Andrew! I’ve always thought there was great potential for a compelling story there. (Please note that this isn’t shipping, Varian is just a bi disaster who gets crushes on attractive people) - Aqua

Click here to read on Archive of Our Own

~*~

Monster

When the guards throw the kid into Andrew’s cell, he thinks they’re kidding.

Short and lanky, with a mop of shaggy black hair and freckles framing his pointy nose. Can’t be more than thirteen. Dressed in poor-ish looking clothes; a baggy shirt with a patch on the sleeve, brown pants with frayed edges, and these weird foot wrappings that hardly count as shoes.

“Hey, what’s this about?” Andrew demands, putting his hands on his hips. “If babysitting is your idea of community service, I’m not interested.”

Andrew isn’t spared a glance or a word as the guards stalk back down the dungeon hallway, leaving them alone. The kid gathers himself up, dusting off his knees with an ugly look in his pale blue eyes.

“I’m not a child,” he hisses at Andrew, completely bypassing a hello.

Andrew raises his eyebrows. “They aren’t seriously locking you up here, are they? Isn’t there a junior’s dungeon in this kingdom? Maybe an orphanage with a correctional program?”

That prompts the kid to shove his finger- swathed in a thick black glove- into Andrew’s face. “I’m not an orphan, either!” he insists. This time, there are tears shining in those blue eyes. Angry tears- no, furious. Interesting.

Andrew puts his hands up, taking a step back to lean against the wall. “Alright, alright.” He folds his arms, giving the kid another once over. “Why are you here? I mean, what could a nine-year-old possibly do to get thrown in prison?”

“I’m fourteen,” the kid retorts.

Well, there’s that question answered. Andrew shrugs. “Whatever. Just stay on your side of the cell and don’t bug me.”

Some of the kid’s anger extinguishes as the reality of his situation hits him. His arms slump by his sides, head craning around to look at the cell and its meagre furnishings. Then at Andrew, a wary and calculating gaze. He shifts in place for a moment, uncertain.

Andrew sighs. “Spit it out.”

“Did you murder someone?” the kid asks.

Andrew blinks at him. “What makes you ask that?”

The kid jerks his shoulder in a shrug. “I- I dunno, I mean, you’re a criminal so- so I just wanted to make sure.”

That gets Andrew to laugh. “Scared I’ll murder you in your sleep? Please, obviously they trust me enough, if they’re letting us room together.”

That, or they don’t care enough about the fate of this kid. Tsk, tsk, Corona. They really ought to be more careful.

Frowning, the kid folds his arms- almost mimicking Andrew’s stance. “I guess so.”

“And plus, if you’re here, that means you’re a criminal, too,” Andrew points out- as difficult as it is to accept that notion. “Did you murder someone?”

The kid looks affronted at that. “No! No, no, n- no, I didn’t kill anyone! I didn’t. Even… even if I thought I wanted to, before.” The last part is mumbled as he looks away, rubbing his arm.

Huh. Even more interesting. “Then what’d you do?” Andrew asks, a little more forcefully this time.

The kid flinches. “I, uh. I kidnapped the queen. And attacked the princess. With automatons.”

Andrew doesn’t know what an automaton is, but he definitely recalls the queen’s kidnapping. “Wait, that attack a few days ago, that was you?” he asks incredulously. “The way the guards were running around like headless chickens, I figured it was an invasion from another kingdom! Not… well.” He gestures vaguely at the kid. “You.”

The kid glares at him, but it’s lacking fire. “Yeah, it was me, alright?”

Extremely interesting. But Andrew’s pushed enough for today. “Well, I’ll be damned. Nice job,” he praises. “Always great to see someone stick it to these pathetic Coronans.”

That makes the kid pause, several expressions conflicting across his face, before he settles for shrugging and turning away. “Whatever.”

Andrew backs off as well, stretching out on his bed. Though he’s not thrilled to suddenly be rooming with a teenager, he is quite curious about the little oddball. It’ll be interesting to learn more about how this unassuming kid almost brought Corona to its knees.

After all, the warriors of New Saporia are always recruiting.

~*~

Over the next few days, Andrew keeps his distance from Varian (whose name he only learns from the guards, who grit it out in frustration when they find another refused bowl of food sitting on the kid’s bed).

Varian’s having an incredibly hard time adjusting. He wakes up with nightmares most nights, incoherent crying that Andrew tries his best to ignore. His mood switches rapidly from venomous spite to hopeless sorrow, sometimes in the middle of a sentence. He jumps at everything and picks incessantly at his gloves and hair and clothes. Within days, the collar of his shirt is completely frayed.

Worse is the pacing. To be fair, Andrew’s engaged in a little pacing himself from time to time, to work off excess energy. But it’s almost like Varian’s been tasked with digging a ditch into the floor with nothing but his own feet, with how often he does it. And he’ll mutter sometimes, too. An endless stream of words too low for Andrew to hear other than the occasional snippet; “dad” and “fault” and “promise” are recurring words.

Tonight is one such occasion. It’s getting late, they should go to sleep soon. But Varian’s pacing relentlessly, and this time, he’s not quiet about it.

“I’m gonna go insane,” Varian chatters, raking his hands through his hair. “I’m- I’m- I’m going insane, I can feel it, how are you not insane yet?!”

Andrew’s given up on tuning him out at this point. “Who says I’m not?” he challenges, nonplussed.

Varian lets out a sharp laugh, tinged with hysteria. “You’re right! For all I know, you are insane, and- and you’re just biding your time to strike.”

Andrew hums, amused. “Oh, but then I’d be alone and bored again. Don’t worry, buddy, you’re safe with me.”

That seems to drain some of the manic energy out of Varian. He stops pacing, lowering his gaze to the floor. “I just- I just wish I had something to work on,” he confesses quietly. “Or- or just something to work with. Chalk, a pencil, anything. Thrown in here with nothing but four walls makes me feel like- like some kind of, uh-”

“Animal?” Andrew guesses with a raised eyebrow. He’s grown accustomed to the feeling, himself.

Varian swallows. “Monster,” he breathes shakily. “I- I feel like a monster.”

Andrew sits up. “Hey now, you’re not a monster.”

“Aren’t I?” Varian asks helplessly. “I tricked the princess into helping me commit treason. When that wasn’t enough, I attacked the town with a mutant raccoon and kidnapped the queen. I threatened her life to get what I wanted, and when it didn’t work, I almost killed them for no other reason than that I wanted to.” His voice breaks. “I wanted to hurt them.”

Andrew doesn’t have time to unpack all that. “You didn’t, though,” he says plainly.

“Not by choice,” Varian says, wiping at his eyes in frustration. His breathing hitches. “I was st- stopped. Sometimes I wonder if- if I hadn’t been, what might’ve…”

Andrew shushes him, crossing over to put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, no use in thinking about the what-if’s, okay? I’m sure you had every reason to do the things you did.” He says the words not unkindly, which is a feat on his part because he’s really getting tired of the kid’s moodiness.

Varian sniffles a little, brows furrowing as a hard look comes back into his eyes. “I did,” he murmurs. “I didn’t have any choice. It was their fault.”

“Of course,” Andrew soothes. “Don’t get all worked up, alright? Go lay down and get some rest, you’ll feel better.”

Blessedly, Varian nods and goes to lay down, tucking his legs to his chest with his back to Andrew. Thank god. Maybe he’ll finally get some peace and quiet tonight.

That settled, Andrew sits back down. He doesn’t really care about Varian’s wellbeing either way, but it’s sure a lot more inconvenient for him when the kid is ranting and pacing like a madman. He’ll have to do something to rectify that.

And he knows just the thing. Furnishings are scarce in this prison, but on occasion, inmates can be rewarded with personal items for good behavior. And, all things considered, Andrew’s been really damn good. So he mentally prepares his request, with the intent to pass it on the next time guards come to bring their food.

After sticking him with this gangly thorn in his side, it’s really the least they can do.

~*~

The package comes in a small cloth pouch, tucked under Andrew’s bowl.

He grins obligingly at the guard, who rolls his eyes and moves on. Andrew sneaks a look at Varian, who’s resolved to refuse dinner tonight for whatever reason and is facing the back wall. Andrew sits cross-legged on his bed, setting the food down in favor of opening the pouch.

Inside are a few sticks of white chalk. Nothing fancy, really, but they’ll do wonderfully.

“Hey, Varian, dinner’s here,” Andrew calls.

“Not hungry,” comes Varian’s stubborn reply.

Andrew allows himself to roll his eyes, fishing a piece of chalk out of the bag. “You sure? There’s something special with it tonight.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Varian turns around. “What is it?”

Andrew tosses the chalk at Varian. “Here.”

Varian catches it in surprise. “What?” He turns the chalk over in his hands, white powder smearing on black gloves as his brows furrow and then raise. “This- this is for me?”

“Yeah.” Andrew leans back against the wall, resting his arms behind his head. “Go ahead, draw me something.”

Varian stares at him for a moment with wide eyes, as if disbelieving. A faint blush colors his cheeks, softening the gaunt paleness that’s taken residence there in the past few weeks. He lets out a breath that might be a laugh, if only by the shy smile his mouth curls into as he does it. Then he turns around, hopping onto his bed to better reach the top of the wall as he touches chalk to stone.

Andrew’s not sure what he’s expecting. But blueprints for some kind of giant humanoid machine are not it. Even to Andrew’s untrained eye, it’s an incredibly complex machine, like nothing he’s ever seen before.

Varian steps back, a critical gaze sweeping over his creation before he takes a breath and turns to Andrew.

“These are the automatons I used,” he explains. “For uh, you know.” There’s only the faintest shadow in his eyes before he hastily moves on. “They were originally created to defend the underground tunnels of Corona. I scavenged the majority of them but was able to reverse engineer their construction and make my own upgraded model. The originals are powered by wind-up turnstiles, if you can believe it, but I made mine run off a prototype steam engine.” He catches his breath, looking at Andrew hopefully. “What- what do you think?”

Andrew has to give it to him; he’s seriously impressed. Not only did the kid learn how those machines work, he was able to successfully modify them and even memorize the schematics. Andrew feels like he’s seeing Varian for the first time. Seeing the true nature of this troubled kid, the brilliance that was hiding behind all his vitriol.

“What do I think? That’s awesome, pal!” Andrew lets amazement show clearly on his face. “What else did you use?”

As expected, Varian’s face lights up. There’s that small blush again as he quickly erases the blueprints and starts drawing up chemical formulas, rambling about goo traps and sleeping powder as he goes.

Andrew’s interest is only half faked; he’s suddenly quite invested in what Varian has to say, but not for the reason Varian thinks. Rather than an annoyance, Varian now presents quite the opportunity for Andrew. He has a lot of use for someone with skills like Varian’s. Dozens of plans are already running through his head, each more devious and clever than the last.

And it won’t be hard to win Varian over. Andrew doesn’t know the full story, but he knows Varian is a kid against the world, a kid who lost everything and everyone. As remorseful as he might seem at times, there’s still a fiery anger inside him. Andrew just needs to act quick enough, before it all burns out.

Is Varian a monster? No, not really. But he’s unbalanced, vengeful, and wicked smart. He’s also lost, hurting, and desperate to prove himself.

And Andrew doesn’t care if it makes him a monster to take advantage of it.

~*~

[msclaritea]

Amy Coney Barrett is a Gun Rights nut and a serious danger to the public. Please read:

“Judge Amy Coney Barrett acknowledges that the decision she considers most significant in her relatively short time as a judge “sounds kind of radical”: She doesn’t believe the Constitution gives government the authority to ban all felons from owning guns.

One gun law expert calls the opinion an “audition tape” for the Supreme Court nomination she received, and Democrats plan to argue at Barrett’s confirmation hearings beginning Monday that it puts her far outside the mainstream. Even, they say, to the right of her conservative former boss, the late Justice Antonin Scalia.

“She is extreme on this issue,” said Sen. Richard Blumenthal (D-Conn.), a member of the Senate Judiciary Committee. “She would go much farther than her mentor Scalia did in striking down common sense measures.”

Supporters are enthusiastic about Barrett’s 37-page dissent in Kanter v. Barr, in which she argues only those shown to be dangerous may be stripped of their Second Amendment rights to guns, and that simply being convicted of a felony is not enough.

The opinion “shows that she takes the Constitution’s text and history seriously,” said Ilya Shapiro of the libertarian Cato Institute, and is committed to “holding the government’s feet to the fire” when individual rights are at stake.

The opinion — even some liberals who worry about its implications praise its craftsmanship — provides a preview of the kind of Supreme Court justice the 48-year-old former Notre Dame law professor would make.

For one, it shows a deep commitment to “originalist” interpretation of the Constitution, the method used by Justices Clarence Thomas and President Trump’s other Supreme Court choices, Neil M. Gorsuch and Brett M. Kavanaugh, to most often reach conservative outcomes.

Certainly it indicates that, if confirmed, Barrett would likely cement a majority more open to reexamining gun control laws that states and cities say are necessary for public safety and that critics contend crimp constitutional rights. Conservative justices have been itching to take on one of the court’s most controversial topics.

And Barrett’s Kanter dissent shows boldness and a propensity for casting off established readings of the law.

She had been on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 7th Circuit less than a year when the case arrived before her. But she used it to sharply question federal and state laws that have been in place for decades.

She rejected the arguments of the Trump administration’s Justice Department and broke with the views of two fellow Republican-nominated judges on the appellate panel who brought a combined 72 years of experience.

Barrett looked at Scalia’s important caveat in the 2008 landmark decision establishing an individual right to gun ownership — “nothing in our opinion should be taken to cast doubt on longstanding prohibitions on the possession of firearms by felons and the mentally ill” — and saw daylight.

The court’s 5-to-4 decision in District of Columbia v. Heller only offered that up as part of a list of “presumptively” lawful measures, Barrett noted.

“The constitutionality of felon dispossession was not before the court in Heller, and because it explicitly deferred analysis of this issue, the scope of its assertion is unclear,” she wrote.

So she and her clerks set out to do their own analysis, she told a group of students at conservative Hillsdale College last year.

“I had to do a pretty deep dive into the history of the Second Amendment,” she said. Founding-era legislatures were concerned with keeping weapons from those considered dangerous, she concluded, but just being convicted of a certain level of crime was not enough.

“That sounds kind of radical, to say felons can have firearms,” Barrett told the students, but she said her examination found “no blanket authority just to take guns” without showing the person was dangerous.

At the same time, she said, government may take away certain civic rights, such as voting or the ability to serve on a jury, upon being convicted of a crime. 

Her position on the felon dispossession issue is at odds with nearly all other federal appeals court decisions on the issue.

Barrett’s elevation to the Supreme Court would pose a “real risk that the court has a majority making decisions to overturn hugely popular laws that save lives. We have an epidemic of gun violence in this country and this kind of reasoning ignores that,” said Kris Brown, president of the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence, noting Barrett listed the dissent first among her 10 most significant cases in her Senate questionnaire.

But Alan Morrison, a George Washington University law professor who was among the lawyers who defended the District of Columbia’s strict handgun ban that the Supreme Court struck down in Heller, thinks Barrett may be right.

“I agree with her conclusion that if you have a Second Amendment right — and I still have my doubts about it — then surely you ought to worry about people who are going to do dangerous things with guns,” Morrison said.

The plaintiff in the case “may be a crook, but there is no evidence that he is going to be dangerous,” Morrison said.

Rickey Kanter, from Mequon, Wis., pleaded guilty in 2011 to a single count of mail fraud for selling therapeutic shoe inserts that he misrepresented as Medicare-approved through his “Dr. Comfort” business. He was sentenced to a year and one day in prison, ordered to pay $50,000 and to reimburse Medicare over $27 million in a related civil settlement.

After Kanter served his time and paid the penalties, he challenged state and federal laws that prevented him as a felon from ever owning a gun.

It was a case gun-control groups worried about. “There was a real concern in the gun safety community that challengers were identifying very sympathetic plaintiffs in an effort to chip away at the effectiveness of the felon regime,” said Washington lawyer Deepak Gupta, who filed an amicus brief in the case for the group Everytown for Gun Safety.

Felon possession bans “are at the heart of background-check systems, concealed-carry licensing schemes, and many arrests and prosecutions for firearms offenses,” the brief said. “Kanter’s arguments would fatally undermine these systems.”

Judges Joel Flaum and Kenneth Francis Ripple, nominated to the 7th Circuit by President Ronald Reagan, ruled for the government. They said the federal and Wisconsin laws banning felons were sufficiently related to the government’s goal of keeping guns out of the hands of those convicted of serious crimes.

The government had justified the restrictions with studies showing higher recidivism rates among those convicted of even nonviolent felonies, they said. Moreover, courts are not equipped to predict which nonviolent felons pose a risk and which do not, they wrote.

“The highly individualized approach Kanter proposes raises serious institutional and administrative concerns,” Flaum wrote, noting Congress told the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives to abandon a program in which nonviolent felons could seek to have their gun rights restored as too time consuming and costly.

Barrett had a different take, after a six-month and exhaustive historical review. It touches on early state constitutions, founding-era documents and dictionaries and ancient law, such as the 1328 Statute of Northampton — the ancient English statute regulating the carrying of weapons.

She also quotes the colorful line from a law review written by UCLA professor Adam Winkler: “It is hard to imagine how banning Martha Stewart or Enron’s Andrew Fastow from possessing a gun furthers public safety.”

Winkler, the author of the book “Gunfight: The Battle over the Right to Bear Arms in America” and the one who compared Barrett’s dissent to an audition tape, agrees with the judge’s conclusion.

But he said it arguably envisions broader Second Amendment protections than provided by Scalia, who characterized the individual right to own a gun as belonging to “law-abiding, responsible citizens.”

Barrett’s reliance on historical precedent, Winkler said, could jeopardize modern-era policies like “red flag” laws that allow law enforcement officials to remove guns from people at risk of harming themselves or others, and bans on machine guns first passed in the 1980s.

“I don’t think Justice Barrett is going to say you have a constitutional right to machine guns, but this is the question raised by her approach,” Winkler said. “It cuts off innovative reforms and calls into question certain laws.”

Clark Neily of Cato, one of the lawyers who challenged the D.C. law in Heller, said Barrett’s detailed opinion suggests the view: “I know this is a high profile case that will get a lot of attention, and I’m going to walk you through my precise thought pattern, so you won’t have to guess why I came to this conclusion.”

Without Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Neily added, “there’s no doubt that on balance the court can be expected to be more favorable to cases presenting Second Amendment claims.” But he said he would not expect the court to move quickly.

In its last term, though, several of the court’s conservative justices expressed frustration that the court has provided no guidance on Second Amendment issues for a decade; Thomas frequently complains gun rights receive less attention from his colleagues than abortion rights.

Still, the court refused to take up nearly a dozen cases in which gun rights groups claimed restrictions violated Second Amendment rights.

Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. is thought not to be excited about the prospect of more gun cases. He is the only conservative justice who at one point or another has not publicly disagreed with the court’s decision not to accept a gun-control case.

But Barrett could change the math, and conservatives would no longer need the chief to count to five votes.”

This woman is disgusting. Please note by the highlighted part above that she has NO problem with people losing other, more vital rights. But keeping guns from felons is No Bueno.

[polygamyff]

39. Part 4

I am worried about Maurice and where he is, I have not called him because I think I am the last person he would like to speak too right now. They want me to call him, when I say they I mean my mom inviting my aunties and my grandparents back to the house, they want to make amends with him but I don’t think Maurice will want it and it’s another sign of disaster, I don’t wish to speak to any of them at all. I just want Maurice to come back, but he hasn’t turned up yet and it’s been about three hours now, Leon placed his hand over mine. Looking down at his hand and then looked at his face “you got me” he said in a whisper “always” I said while holding his hand “you think I did bad by not saying anything?” I am sure Leon would tell me how it is “you seemed to be in your own world, you have been quiet. I don’t know, I think you should have told them to stop. Like, I don’t know. Say if you was my fiancé and let’s say for example you come to my home, and my grandparents started saying she is a whore, her family is trash, she is a horrible person. So is the family and kept saying it and then looked at you like shit and I sat there, didn’t say a word. Watched it go on, how would that feel?” shaking my head “not nice” Leon nodded his head “you would feel as if why, I think I understand what you are going through but you should have said, look this is my man and I am marrying him. Do you feel that way? You know with what Colin said, about being the second wife, them buying you out? You feel that way? I mean this whole decision has been Maurice, have you ever wanted to get married this quick?” Leon asked, I haven’t really thought about it “he asked, and I felt like I needed to do it for him, I want a dream wedding because it’s my first time. Probably waited it out but he ran with it. And yes, he will make it special for me but I told him I wanted more kids and he wasn’t happy but he would do it for me and I felt obliged in saying yes in that sense of he will do that for me, I do this for him but it does worry me. He’s a great guy but his battle is far beyond me, the more he comes popular the more I feel strained and scared. I don’t want my daughter to feel she has to have the business but it’s a sealed deal, I don’t have the heart to say this to him because Maurice is always feel steam ahead, the only reason I had him to myself is because he was really ill, New York is scary and I am going to be alone there in a seven storey million dollar home” shaking my head “I think you should be able to tell him no, I think with the Vegas thing you be adamant in saying no. Robyn please make sure you don’t let him go, friend this makes me sad. Why don’t you tell him no, you are right in the fact this is your first time and you want it a big wedding?” the front door opened, he is back “because I love him, just not the life around it” Maurice is not happy, he is theleast impressed seeing this.

“Shall I just go to my hotel? Because I ain’t come back for this” he said “he wants to apologise, they all do Maurice” my mom said, getting up from the chair “look, Terry. I like you, you are a great woman but I can’t have people like that in my life, I have my own uncles like this and I have no choice with them but with this I do, I don’t want your dad near my home, Gloria you sign the paper or you don’t come. Kathryn, you can stay with your bitter husband or you come. Robyn ain’t saying shit so I will, I didn’t want trouble with any of you, but looks like you all have, there you go and keep your sorry. Don’t care now” standing next to my mom, crossing my across my chest “how sad is your life they have to make people sign paperwork, don’t trust many people do you” my granddad hasn’t finished, clearly “you right, I don’t but I trust Robyn enough to not have her sign a prenup, but I am doubting that now” my face dropped staring at Maurice “let’s talk” Maurice walked off, watching him go upstairs “is that what you want to get married into?” my granddad said “dad! Stop it, just stop. You said apologise, not this” walking off to go upstairs, I can’t believe he just said that when I have done nothing wrong, like I said to them I have to deal with this.

I am fuming, they really tried to belittle me and then on top of that I come here, and they have his old ass here. I can’t even deal with this shit, I don’t want to be harsh but I will be, how can I trust Robyn when she can’t have my back, how can I let Robyn take my name when she can’t take up for me, it’s fucking stupid. Maybe I am being dumb and not doing the prenup thing, but I should trust her, how can I trust her like this. Now I am very much pissed off, Andrew was trying to get me to calm down and have weed but I refused, I don’t want that to be honest I just want to talk to her if she ever comes upstairs. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, the bedroom door opened. Shaking my head rolling my eyes “you wanted to talk” Robyn closed the door “why are you acting like you did nothing wrong? You wanted to talk, so? What was that?” I don’t get her “you met my family, what else you want?” is she even with me on this “right, so because irrational Robyn was still angry that I was going to Vegas, the fact I didn’t even know about it but yet you assumed I did, Nalah got it wrong on this. So, you thought I am angry with him still so what I will do is let my family go at him about his family, huh? Is that it?” getting up from the bed “not exactly, I was just quiet. What else you want me to do?” I am not even sure if she thinks she has done wrong “I wanted you to stick up for your fiancé! Like I do you, every time with my family, I am there. I am telling them not to even speak a word about you, but you!? Nothing, are you serious Robyn?” Robyn just shrugged “I am tired” I am not sure if to not say a word or snap on her.

Robyn is really annoying, just her whole demeanour, she just doesn’t care “do you want this? I rather you say it now because making me do all of this like a dickhead is a no, what is it? Because I need trust, you did nothing! You fucking let them talk shit about a family you’re going to be in, I did this for you and you are not happy still” she is not happy still, look at her “say it, seriously just fucking say it. Don’t be walking off like that, talk to me!” Robyn turned to look at me “I am going to bed” she is not even listening to what I said “fuck you Robyn!” dragging open the door, I am not going to stand there while she ignores the shit I say. Banging the door shut, I can’t marry that when she doesn’t care at all. Walking across the hall to Reign’ room, opening the door slowly. I really do like Reign’ room, they really did it up all cute and shit. Walking over to the crib, I wonder if the bang woke her, but she won’t wake up, she will be knocked out asleep. Looking down in the crib “as I knew” I said smiling down at her asleep, she pouts like me when she sleeps. Leaning against the side of the crib, Robyn is just closed off. She is not there with me, she is not even saying a word and ignoring everything. I want to marry Robyn, that is what I want but I just don’t know what she wants, was it Vegas that triggered her I don’t know “I will figure it out” I said to myself.

Walking down the steps “don’t you old people sleep” I mean obviously they heard me shouting “not when you’re shouting at my niece” Gloria said “it’s nothing to do with any of you” now everyone wonders why I smoke, making my way to the back door “can I come?” Leon said “sure” I like Leon, he is a good guy “I need one too, I know I am scrounging” opening the cigarette packet and pulling one out “it’s fine” opening the back door “here” passing him the packet, I swear I could try and stop but I have too much shit on my mind to be not smoking at all. I need it, I am not a social smoker where I can just stop like that “that was eventful wasn’t it” lighting my cigarette as I sat down on the chair outside “thank you” holding the lighter out to him, moving back the cigarette while blowing the smoke out “this is why I smoke, best thing. I am the bad guy now because I came in shouting, what did you hear?” I asked Leon “you said fuck you Robyn and some muffled shouting” of course they heard that “she didn’t say anything to me, she said she is tired. Couldn’t defend her actions, I am thinking of calling it off. Maybe Robyn ain’t up for what I am or who I am, she wants me but not the life when I would give her everything, I would do anything for her and she couldn’t even just take up for me in that moment” placing the cigarette between my lips “I know my friend loves you so much, she does and yes the life is a lot but I think it’s more to do with Thomas not being her dad, I think she is hurting on that still. So much is happening and it’s a lot, we are ok because like that is not our life. Robyn is going through this, she is moving to New York, she is getting married and she wanted her dad to walk her, she then found out Thomas is not her dad and her real dad is dead, so all those years was a lie, then she found out you wanted to go Vegas when she worked so hard to get you better and you did not think if she wanted to be with you on that day because she is struggling. Then she even runs away from her family because they don’t be nice, then she is hearing all of that when in the first place she didn’t want you to meet them, then you both argued. Now it’s not my place but it still doesn’t sit well with me with the female business, Maurice you were really and in that store, you was flirting up a storm with her, I was there and you didn’t care. It’s wrong, even that server was on you. Robyn got annoyed; I just think it’s a lot. She does want to be with you, but she is struggling. It’s becoming a nightmare, then she is moving to New York all at the same time. How much do you want? And then you can’t even be decent behind her back, that is my friend and she is hurting” Leon said, he didn’t hold back “it was a low blow to use the prenup against her when Robyn wouldn’t even care for your money like that, you care for it more than her. She did do wrong, she didn’t speak up but when you just give up you don’t say shit, I get it. It’s just always something there to crush your dreams, one thing after another and then you’re still married, I wouldn’t marry your ass to be honest, she is because she knows it’s what you want and she loves you so much but you done shouted at my friend Maurice, now I want you to make her feel better” blowing the smoke out from my lips slowly, Leon just gave it to me as it is “and please don’t get me fired from my job” he added, I laughed shaking my head “it’s ok, it’s what I needed” I mumbled.

Walking back into the house, the room became awfully silent which was not a nice feeling, but I get why. Leon has made me see what I should have been seeing from the beginning, I have been a dick but the family ain’t been shit with me but for Robyn I will try “so, can we talk?” I said, Terry got up from the couch “yeah, come and sit down” smiling lightly at Terry “thank you” sitting down on the couch “I will be quick, I need to take my medication and go to bed. So today has been a bad day, things were said which was upsetting. I am just upset that Robyn didn’t take up for me, I don’t like your attitude towards me, I have done nothing to you, but I want to hear from you what is your issue?” I said to Colin “did my family do something to you? What can I do for you to not be like this?” Leon sat down next to me “you cannot do anything; I have just been wanting to meet with you for a while. I wanted to say these things to you, my grandchild knows the truth and it does hurt me to know. I just think she can do better; she is an angel. I have watched her grow and then grow apart away from me which hurts me. She thinks I am harsh, but I do it to protect her, many years before you were born. The Davenport family have been snatching up businesses from people, black people. I didn’t like that, you sell your soul to be that rich, your great grandad, when I was small, I heard the stories. Even he had slaves, black too. Your family were bitches to the whites, and if I meet your dad, I will beat his ass and I will not change my mind. There is nothing you can do to make me like you, you’re evil” nodding my head “there is that, then Colin. You cannot come to the wedding, the rest of you. Be my guest, I tried” getting up from the couch “I cannot account for the past but I can for the future” I don’t know what he wants “you marry her then I will make sure I leak it, I leak that you marry her. You listen to me boy!” I stopped walking, looking over at Colin “you think you leaking anything would stop me from marrying her? You probably got Alzheimer’s thinking these stories” he is crazy “my father does not, he tells the truth” Gloria said “you boy, you are a slave child, so was your dad. You need to know your history, I will not forgive Robyn for allowing such a connection to the devil, I hate. And as for you Terry, why did you let this happen, and you let Thomas go?” I really don’t care “because he is a good guy and nothing will change my mind, it’s late. I think it’s time you go, me and Thomas are over dad, now please leave my home and Maurice just go upstairs, leave him be” this old man is crazy, maybe my dad did fuck his bitch, I don’t know.

Colin hates me because of the history my family got, I don’t know what he wants me to do with that. Old people are crazy for nothing, he is just a stubborn old man that assumes I care if he tells, then so be it. Closing the bed door behind me, Robyn is sleeping on her side away from me. Tilting my head to the side or maybe she is not asleep, she is fake sleeping. I know Robyn, I know when she is asleep and when she isn’t. The rhythm of her breathing, she is fake sleeping. Pulling my top from over my head, throwing it on the floor. Unbuckling my jeans, I know Robyn a lot. She doesn’t even fall asleep on her side balled up like that. Also, she falls asleep on her right-hand side, with her arm propped under the pillow, her arms are always all over the place, and her legs too. If I am in bed with her, she will intertwine her leg with mine and I would have to hold her hand, see I know these things and take notice, so Robyn is not asleep. Fixing my boxers as I made my way to the bed, pulling the covers back. Crawling onto the bed, I am going to shuffle to her side. Peaking over Robyn, her eyes are closed. Laying on my side right next to Robyn, pulling the cover over me “Robyn?” I said, wrapping my arm around her and then I heard the sob that left her lips “don’t cry” I know Robyn, I knew she wasn’t sleeping.

Robyn got out of bed, breaking away from me “I don’t want to sleep with you, you can sleep here. I need to be alone” frowning at her “why, I am sorry. I was just annoyed earlier, you didn’t ride for me like you should have” Robyn shook her head “I heard you and Leon speaking outside, I heard what he said about you. After I have spoken to you about what I hate, you still doing it? Am I just a joke to you? Why do you want to marry me so badly? You don’t need a wife, you need a cumrag, just like Ally is. I am not it Maurice, I don’t need you, you need me. You want me, like you really have the audacity to go out in my city and be flirting with these girls like you are single, it’s laughable, my life is a fucking joke and you just make everything worse. You know what, Leon is wrong. I don’t need you to make me feel better when you are the person upsetting me, like you are doing this behind my back. You are sick, and I do not want you to even sleep in the bed with me. Everything I feel about you businessmen is becoming true and you expect me to move to you in New York? So, you can kick me to the curb when you don’t need me, or I end up like your mom. I fucking told you! I told you this already Maurice and we are still on this same shit! And you want to go Vegas? I can’t trust, it’s not happening, and I am not sure if that includes this marriage when you are just some whore, I deserve better” I groaned out “I didn’t do it on purpose, you know I don’t think of you as no cumrag Robyn. She flirted with me!?” Robyn doesn’t wish to even listen she is just picking up her things “I will see how I feel in the morning, I will then let you know if I want to marry you” I really just wanted to make it up with Robyn but now it’s another thing “you may want to protect your money and name with some prenup but I need to protect my sanity, you have really hurt me just like I probably hurt you with not saying anything to my family, but to shame me and say that in front of them” this is some bullshit “If you listen to my reasoning, I was angry that is why but you need to remember what I said to you on valentines day, I mean it Robyn. I do love you; I would never cheat on you like that, you’re too good for me, I know. I want to grow old with you” Robyn closed the bedroom door on me, I guess I need to give her space.

[bytheangell]

This Is the Coda That Never Ends... Part 13

(Read on AO3) (read from the start)

“I’ll keep you updated,” Alec assures Magnus, giving his husband a kiss goodbye before picking Clary up off of the sofa and carrying her through the portal. When he steps through into Lorenzo’s mansion it looks almost the same as it did a year ago when he was last here. The little constants are nice, especially considering how much the world around him has changed in such a short period of time. 

Alec immediately moves towards the sofa but Lorenzo stops him. 

“Can you carry her upstairs?” Lorenzo asks him. “We can put her in a proper bed this time until she wakes up, I’ll conjure up something for her to eat, too, the poor thing must be drained.” 

Alec tilts his head for a moment, caught off-guard by the extra measure Lorenzo considered to keep Clary comfortable. He hasn’t dealt with Lorenzo very much in the past year, not since his move to Alicante and Isabelle’s appointment as Head of the Institute in his place. Of course, during his visits and time catching up with Underhill with a night out here and there, he’s heard his fair share of the subtle shifts in the High Warlock of Brooklyn’s attitude from the man who once blacklisted Magnus from the warlock community. 

On the outside he still puts on a show of being above caring about trivial matters and people who serve him no purpose, especially during official meetings and council sessions, but this is a taste of the Lorenzo who Underhill and Isabelle have been telling him about. Alec almost didn’t believe them before seeing it with his own two eyes; Underhill is one thing, Alec expects him to be kind to his boyfriend, but he has no reason to go above and beyond for Clary. 

“That sounds good, yeah.” Alec shifts Clary’s weight in his arms before turning towards the stairs. 

“Up the stairs, take a right, second door on the left.” Lorenzo says before turning and heading off somewhere. 

Alec’s second surprise - being allowed to wander Lorenzo’s home freely. He expected the other man to follow him around, or maybe offer yet another tour of any new acquisitions from the past year, but instead Lorenzo vanishes out of sight before Alec is even up the first set of stairs. 

He finds the bedroom easily enough. It’s clearly a spare for visitors, and even though it isn’t dusty or anything it’s also obvious it hasn’t been used in quite some time.Alec shifts the covers enough to lay Clary down and pull them over her, leaving the door open on his way out and back down the stairs.

Alec is about to call out to find where Lorenzo went when he hears sounds coming from a room down the hall and follows them to find Lorenzo not actually conjuring something up, but gathering ingredients out of the cabinets and fridge to cook with. A lot of ingredients. 

“How many people do you plan on feeding?” Alec asks, eyebrow raised. 

“Assuming your entire hoard of Shadowhunters are likely about to invade my home to speak with Clarissa when she wakes back up, at least half a dozen.” Lorenzo doesn’t even look up from what he’s chopping as he speaks. 

“Oh,” Alec says, not quite sure what else to say to that. Lorenzo doesn’t seem angry about it, more resigned to the inevitability… and entirely willing, just as he was in offering Clary a proper room, to go the extra mile. Maybe he can sense how tense this entire situation is for them. Maybe he just wants to be the better person after that jab at Alec for keeping this secret, the same way he had the Soul Sword. “Thanks,” he adds. “I know you don’t want to be doing all this.” “What can I say, Bane set quite the precedent for Shadowhunter tolerance,” Lorenzo shrugged. 

“Mmhmm,” Alec hums, smiling slightly. “Though it seems like you’re doing a bit more than tolerating Underhill these days.You’ve been together the whole year since the wedding, haven’t you?” Alec hears Underhill’s side of things occasionally, but it’s rare he has a moment alone with Lorenzo that isn’t focused on some sort of official business of another. 

“I suppose so,” Lorenzo confirms. “I suppose,” he continues in a would-be-casual tone. “Not to jinx it, but things are going rather well these days. Andrew is quite the charmer when he wants to be.” 

Alec stifles a laugh. “Good. I was afraid after earlier-” 

Lorenzo cuts Alec off with a sigh and a wave of his hand. “We’ll talk it out. We always do; this isn’t the first time he’s put his duty as a Shadowhunter before our relationship. I’d probably do the same if our roles were reversed.” 

Alec shakes his head. “But you shouldn’t have to, and neither should Underhill. Ordering him to keep this a secret, I never should’ve done that. It was a bad call, and it goes against all of the transparency I’m trying to create in the Shadow World. How are you ever supposed to trust me and the rest of the Shadowhunters if we keep running around keeping secrets?” 

“If you think you’re the only ones keeping secrets, Mr. Lightwood, you’re more naive than I thought,” Lorenzo states simply. “This isn’t something that’s going to stop overnight. You’re doing good work, but you’ve barely begun. You can’t undo years of systematic oppression and self-preservation with a law or two.” 

He wonders if Lorenzo knows something he doesn’t, openly admitting that there are other secrets being kept in the Shadow World. Which, Alec reasons, could be almost anything. But the tone that their conversation shifts to is much more serious than it began, and he has to consider if it isn’t more of a veiled warning than a casual statement. 

He doesn’t get a chance to ask before Alec’s phone rings, Isabelle’s name flashing across the screen. 

“Hey Iz, what’s up?” He asks, already knowing the answer. Magnus filled her in on where he is and what’s going on, and she wants to know what the next move is. 

“Honestly, I’m not so sure anymore. You didn’t see her when she suddenly remembered Magnus… if we bring everyone here it might be too much for her all at once…”

Lorenzo looks up at that. “If I just chopped up that many fresh carrots for nothing-” he starts, falling silent when Alec holds up a finger to shush him so he can hear his sister through the phone. 

“What? No, nevermind about the carrots. Listen, I know he’s going to kill me for it later, but tell Jace to stay back for now. If you and Simon want to come, that’s fine. But until we know how her memories are affecting her, and why they’re coming back, I don’t want to risk anything that’s already triggered her.” Alec pauses, listening again. “Take your time, see you when you get here.” 

He hangs up, turning back to Lorenzo. “What do you think? Should I even let those two come?” He asks, curious to hear the warlock’s opinion. 

Lorenzo looks shocked to be asked. “Why are you asking me?” 

“Because I meant what I said earlier. I can’t fix this on my own, and if I’m being honest I’m more than a little biased here, so I’d like a second opinion.” Alec says, opting for honesty this time around. 

“I don’t think it’s a terrible idea,” Lorenzo admits. “But I can’t say for certain, and neither can you. First you’re trying to keep her away from the places she’s remembering, then you’re asking her all sorts of leading questions back at Magnus’, and now you’re trying to keep her away from it again. You’re just as clueless as I am in this unfortunately unprecedented situation.” 

Alec hates how right Lorenzo is, cursing his intuitive outlook and the fact that he really doesn’t shy away from telling things like they are. Alec’s trying to play the diplomat here, while balancing his personal history with Clary, and failing miserably at both. He thought for a second back there he was covering it well enough but clearly that isn’t the case. 

“If there’s one thing you learn being immortal,” Lorenzo continues after Alec’s prolonged silence. “It’s adaptability. Make a plan, but don’t be afraid to change it when something new comes up and it stops working. Don’t just stick with it because you said it an hour ago.” 

Alec isn’t sure how he feels about getting leadership advice from Lorenzo Rey of all people, but it’s good advice.

Alec catches himself staring at the yellow magic that Lorenzo uses, remembering the short period of time he had it at his own disposal. He thinks about that more than he cares to admit, the feel of it just under the surface of his skin, the power at his fingertips… 

“Have you considered using it again?” Lorenzo asks, and Alec sees his gaze watching him watch the magic. “The alliance rune?” 

Alec shakes his head. “No. I mean, yes, plenty of times. But not seriously. Not after the pushback it gave the first time, and the price Clary paid for it’s creation… the Angels clearly didn’t want that to exist. I can’t ignore that a second time, not considering the potential cost for using it again.” 

Lorenzo nods thoughtfully. “Do you think your Angels will allow it now, if they’re returning Clary and all of her powers back to our world?” 

Alec pauses to consider that. He hadn’t thought about it before, but… maybe, just maybe… 

He refuses to get his hopes up. 

“Let’s worry about one thing at a time,” Alec suggests instead of pursuing that line of thinking, though now that it’s in the back of his mind he knows it’s going to stay there for quite some time. He clears his throat to refocus. “Alright. So we stick with the plan for now and change it if we have to-”

“What plan?” Clary’s voice sounds from the doorway, causing both men to jump slightly at the unexpected sound. 

“You didn’t leave,” Alec observes, pleasantly surprised. When he left her alone in that bedroom, no wards holding her in or person to keep an eye on her, he half expected her to flee the moment she woke up. He has to admit he’s pleasantly surprised to see her still here. 

“I told you, I want answers, too. And it looks like you guys are the ones who have them.” She glances around. “Where’s Magnus?” 

Alec and Lorenzo share a look of concern. Clary seems okay at first, but the longer she thinks about him, trying to remember the warlock and what happened before, the more Alec sees the discomfort grow in her expression. 

“He isn’t here. We didn’t want you to be in any more pain if we could help it. The remembering hurts, doesn’t it?” Alec asks, knowing it’s a stupid question but wanting to hear the answer from her just the same. 

Clary nods. “The first time is the worst. If it’s just a piece of something I can mostly ignore it. But if it’s something big, or all of it at once… well, it sucks. I mean, you saw me, did I pass out again?” 

Alec stores that knowledge away while Lorenzo cringes a bit from behind a boiling pot on the stove. “Ahhh, actually, Miss Fairchild, that was my doing. I… incapacitated you before the pain could. Both times.” 

“Oh,” Clary says, and Alec’s afraid she might actually run at that news. “Thanks, I guess?” 

“You really do trust us, don’t you?” Alec asks, amazed and confused but also more than a little grateful for it. 

Clary nods. “I do. I shouldn’t, but… here we are. Me in a house with two strangers who have ‘incapacitated’ and kidnapped me twice now. If I don’t end up on some procedural cop show a year from now it’ll be a miracle.” 

There’s the unmistakable sound of a portal in the living room and all three of their heads turn towards it. 

“What’s that?” Clary asks, immediately taking a step back. 

Alec looks at her with a cautious grin. “How do you feel about meeting a few more old friends?” 

“Do I have a choice?” Clary says, taking a deep breath. 

Alec considers this, and then nods. “Yes. You do. Say the word and they’re gone.” 

Clary hesitates. There are voices now, calling out for Alec. A girl and a guy. 

Alec watches Clary carefully as the initial fear fades to the stubborn determination he remembers her so well for; a flash of the old Clary if he ever saw one. 

“No… it’s fine. I’m fine,” she says with a resolute nod, and Alec is positive she’s trying to convince herself more than him, but lets it go. “Let’s do this.”

[stattic-writes]

Strep

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