#and hearing ron call himself a “straight white man” just threw me off

[awakefor48hours]

Forgot that Ron is technically straight in canon.

[counterspelling]

Prompt: Rey, Finn, Rose, Poe, Chewie and the Falcon from the sequel trilogy get sent to the Legends timeline because they deserve better.

I think for me I'd actually rather keep the timelines separate? They absolutely did deserve SO MUCH BETTER, and time travel fix-it shenanigans can be so fun, but I love the EU as a completely separate thing and idk how you could incorporate them. I would rather just throw the sequels in the trash where they belong and keep the characters and just... rewrite everything else?? The only satisfying arc for that trilogy for me would be for Rey to be Luke's daughter since that is IMPLICITLY what TFA was showing us with her force visions of an island she'd never seen that Luke marooned himself on (after somehow failing young Rey and thinking she was dead, since that is the ONLY REASON Luke would ever abandon everyone like that, and even still I don't think he would cut himself off for years like that. We already saw that story!!! We saw Yoda and Obi-wan do it!!! Why did they just repeat the OT!!!) and with Rey calling Luke's lightsaber to her over Kyle Ron, they WANTED US TO THINK she was his daughter. And she should have been! The main SW movies are about the Skywalker family, and throwing away decades of that history to pull the rug out from the viewers and have her be a Palpatine in the name of shock value bc Rian Johnson is a racist piece of shit and JJ Abrams is so enamored of his own writing and thinks writing himself into mystery corners without presenting actual solutions is good storytelling.... that's dumb!

Disney originally letting 3 separate straight white dudes do the trilogy with no oversight or communication between them is dumb! George could pull out plot twists and shock the audience bc he was one man overseeing EVERYTHING and he never undercut the message of his own story. He was vocal about his movies being for kids, the point wasn't just to shock people, Vader being Luke's dad makes everything about the OT more complex and deepens every relationship, the same way Leia being Luke's sister does. It was about tying the characters together and underpinning their emotional journeys together, not pulling something COMPLETELY out of left field just so that the thing that everybody saw coming didn't happen (they resurrected Palpatine in the CRAWL and then never addressed it!!! I just!!! How is that something that actually got written and filmed and produced and nobody had a problem with it!!!). Disney doesn't care about anything but money, and they just need the brand for that, not a good story. I would rather bring Winter and Mara into Disney canon bc Leia deserves her sister and Luke deserves his wife but also I do not want to subject myself to suffering through whatever disney would do to them lol. Also, on top of everything else he's done, Abrams is still on my shitlist for putting out the casting call for Keri Russell's character to be named "Mara."

They set up Rey and Finn to be co-leads with parallel stories, they clearly set them up as love interests, they were two people who immediately recognized each other as someone to care for and trust, exactly the way Han and Luke and Leia all did when they first met, two people with incredibly fucked up childhoods who were never sure who they could trust or who would support them. But they knew from the first moment that THIS person would be someone they could count on, and had such an immediate bond together. And then they threw those characters away completely to woobify Kyle Ron and turn Finn from a lead into a side character without a plot or character arc for the next two movies. Rey and Finn in TFA are unrecognizable in the next two movies, everything about their personalities, motivations, and goals changes and has zero resemblance or flow from the first movie. And Kyle Ron himself is a joke, truly one of the worst SW characters I've ever encountered. I hate... so many sw characters lol, but he's just such a badly written and uncompelling character, and everything about him is so rooted in the racism that John Boyega the actor and Finn the character had to go through, it's just disgusting.

Anyway, if it was purely up to me, I would remove the sequels from canon and then do a 7 movie adaptation of the NJO and LOTF series. I want Jag and Jaina to be the main couple without decades of dumb love squares just bc Jaina is the only girl, I want Tahiri to be treated with the respect she deserves, and I want Tenel Ka to have more of a chance to bond with the other girls and in fact to make the relationships between all the women a priority. We'd get the first four movies covering the vong war, we'd see the twins and Anakin centerstage and having to fight the worst war the galaxy has ever seen as teenagers and how strong they were together, before they were even fully jedi knights. We'd get the bond between them and see them emerge as leaders in the war, and then we'd lose Anakin at the end of 3, see the toll that it took upon the whole family but especially Jaina and Jacen (Jaina! Who was always the protector of her siblings, from the time they were born! The oldest sibling, who feels responsible for their safety!! Losing her youngest brother!! And then coming into her title as Sword of the Jedi when she's knighted, and forever feeling the guilt that she couldn't stand in front of her brother and protect him!! When that was the literal prophecy spoken about her, that she would never rest bc she would forever stand in front of other to protect them!! Also?? To hear that about yourself at 17??? WOW!). And then seeing the last 3 cover LOTF and Jacen's descent, Jaina's realization of what he's become, how it's her duty to kill her twin, her heart, because she's the only one who can. That's the story I want.

[matrixaffiliate]

Salient

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Hooray for Friday updates! I'll be back on February 29th with chapter 29. (Because I'm sort of geeking out over posting on leap year, and how the numbers work out with this story, but I'm weird that way...)

Chapter 28

"Are you ready?" Ellie raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes?" Al nodded.

"Then perhaps we should stop standing on the pavement and go knock on the door?"

"Right," Al nodded again.

Originally, Al had not been all that nervous to bring El to meet the Ron Weasley clan. But that was before Rose had called him that morning to let him know she had a new boyfriend who would be joining them, and who that boyfriend was.

They'd known Scorpius alright while in school. They didn't necessarily run in the same circles, but Al thought him a good bloke from the moment Scorpius stood up to some older kids picking on a group of first years, being only a first-year himself. So it isn't like Al disapproves of Rose and Scorpius dating, he's just not sure what to expect. He hasn't seen the man in years, he has no good point of reference.

To put it simply, Scorpius is an unknown entity in Al's perfectly measured procedure, and now, who knows what the results will be?

"Come on," Ellie rolled her eyes and pulled him forward. "I'm sure your cousin's boyfriend is a lovely man."

Al followed, part of his brain agreeing with her, the other part panicking in protest.

"Right."

Hermione opened the door as they triggered the wards and waved them inside.

"Come in, come in, it's getting cold out."

"Isn't it lovely," Ellie slipped her jacket from her arms.

Hermione chuckled, "I suppose it can be."

"Aunt Hermione, this is Ellie," Al took El's jacket, "Ellie this is my Aunt Hermione."

"I'm so glad to finally meet you!" Hermione waved their jackets out of Al's hands and into the cupboard.

"Al!"

Al turned just in time to catch Rose mid-air as she flung herself at him.

"Hey, Rosie," Al set her down and turned to Ellie.

"Ellie, this is my cousin Rose, Rose this is my girlfriend, Ellie."

Rose threw herself at El, who laughed as she wrapped her arms around Rose's middle.

"Rosie," Hermione chided, "Let the poor woman breathe."

"It's fine, really," Ellie grinned as Rose pulled back. "I love hugs!"

"Well then you'll love, Rose," Hugo stuck his head out into the entryway and rolled his eyes. "Rose will hug anyone."

"That's Hugo," Rose stuck her tongue out at her brother. "The baby of the family."

"Rose, stop it," Hermione chided as she gave the three of them a nudge towards the sitting room. "You're adults now, so act like it."

"Adults with Weasley siblings for our examples," Hugo grinned before ducking behind his book to avoid Hermione's death glare.

"He's got a point, love," Ron chuckled and came in from the kitchen. "Ginny, my brothers, and I still end up bickering like children from time to time."

He held out his hand to El. "It's nice to finally meet you, Ellie. I'm Ron, Al's uncle."

"Thank you all for having me," Ellie shook his hand and Al scanned trying to figure out where Scorpius was hiding.

"He's not here yet," Rose eyed him.

Al tried to look calm, "Oh?"

"I've known you since we were born, Al." Rose rolled her eyes. "I know what you're doing."

"I'm just reminiscing about how this place hasn't changed much." Al avoided his cousin's gaze.

"How about we turn on the wireless and have a drink while we wait for Scorpius to make it." Ron waved his wand at the radio and quiet music filled the air. "I've got some hot wassail on the stove as well if you're of a mind."

"Really?" Ellie's smile beamed. "My aunt only makes it at Christmas time. I love wassail!"

Ron grinned. "I've always said it makes no sense to save the best things for once a year. Follow me, Ellie, and we'll fill you a mug."

Ellie gave an excited squeak and Al chuckled as he kissed her cheek before pushing her towards Ron and the kitchen.

"Why didn't you say that you disapproved of Scorpius?" Rose pulled on his arm once Ellie had disappeared into the kitchen.

"Because I don't," Al blinked at her.

"Then why are you freaking out?"

"Rose, Al is fine," Hermione cut in.

"No," Hugo called from his book, "Al's definitely freaking out. He's doing that thing where he looks at everything then stops and zones out with that panicked look in his eyes and then repeats it over and over."

"See!" Rose pointed at Hugo. "He knows too!"

"Rose," Hermione's voice was firmer, but Al was peeved now and let Rose have it.

"No, they're right. And I'm panicked because you took a safe, predictable scenario and then last minute threw in a wild card!"

"Scorpius isn't a wild card!" Rose shot back.

"He is for Al," Hugo turned the page of his book.

"You knew him in school!" Rose protested.

"I knew of him and we left Hogwarts years ago! So excuse me for being nervous that I brought the girlfriend that I kept from the family for over a year to meet you on the same day that you spring someone I can't calculate on me."

"I told you," Hugo looked up from his book, "I told you to wait for next time."

"Al, if you're feeling uncomfortable, we can reschedule this." Hermione put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's always hard to have things sprung on you, especially when you're already nervous."

Al shoved his hand in his hair. "No, I want to be here. I want you all to get to know Ellie." He turned to Rose. "And I am happy for you, Rosie. Just, let me work through this alright. I'm learning not to try and treat life like an experiment with controllable variables, but it's taking time." He smiled, "And most all of El's patience."

It was Rose's turn to look panicked as she threw herself at him. "I'm sorry! I've been so nervous because Scorp and I have gotten so much crap because he's a Malfoy and I'm a Weasley and I just wanted you to be excited for me because so many people were wary at first and I just needed someone to love it and I wanted it to be you but I didn't think about how I'd changed plans on you last minute! And..."

"Breathe, Rose," Hugo put his book down and smiled at Al. "You going to be alright, mate?"

Al nodded as he disentangled himself from Rosie. "Yeah, I might still do some of my tics, but I'm not leaving." He smiled down at Rose, "I am happy for you. And I know someone who was happy for you the moment they found out you we dating and loves that you and Scorpius are together."

"You do?" Rose furrowed her brow.

"Ellie."

"Yes?" Ellie walked in, steaming cup of wassail clasped in her hands and a happy smile gracing her lips.

Al reached for her, "I was just telling Rose how you were excited to find out she has a new boyfriend."

"Oh!" Ellie nodded. "I love hearing about how people met and got together. My grandmother tells me stories all the time of how half of St. John's relationships started."

Al smirked, wondering how many of those stories were actually told to Naomi verbally.

"That sounds a right side better than the stories my grandmother told me." Scorpius walked into the room and Rose's whole face lit up like a bright white LED lightbulb as she ran to him.

"Scorp, you remember Al," Rosie wrapped her arms around Scorpius' middle.

"Of course, it's good to see you again. Rose tells me you're blurring the lines between the Wizarding World and the Muggles."

Al nodded and shook Scorpius' proffered hand. "We had a successful test run for the production of one of my product ideas this morning. But I've got a lot of help from Ellie, here. Ellie, this is Scorpius Malfoy, one of our old classmates. Scorpius, this is my girlfriend, Ellie Battiste."

"Nice to meet you," Ellie shifted her mug to shake his hand.

"Is that wassail?" Scorpius' eyes went wide.

"Dad made some," Rose nodded. "He doesn't see the point of only having it in December."

"I knew I liked your dad," Scorpius nodded to the room, "I'll be back in a moment."

The rest of the evening went much smoother than Al had originally anticipated. Everyone loved Ellie, and Ellie's lack of any history on the matter helped Al to see Scorpius through fresh eyes. He hadn't held any hard feelings for Scorpius, but Al realized that he had held a lot of pity for him. Having El there helped Al to see Scorpius without that pity, and that made it easier to get to know him.

As the evening drew to a close, Al went into the kitchen with Scorpius for one more mug of wassail.

"I'm really glad you were able to come tonight," Scorpius leant against the counter. "It's been really important to Rose."

"I'm glad I came. It was good to actually get to know you." Al filled his mug before setting it down to grab El's.

"Are you alright with Rose and me then?"

Al chuckled, "She'd kill me for trying to give that sort of permission."

Scorpius gripped the counter behind him. "Look Al, everyone at Hogwarts knew how you and your brothers handled the guys that broke Lily's heart. Honestly, I'm surprised anyone was willing to date her at all. But what I'm going for here is that you're not upset it's me Rose is choosing."

Al studied Scorpius for a moment. "As long as you're choosing each other, Scorp, I couldn't be happier."

Relief seemed to wash over Scorpius as his whole body relaxed and he smiled.

"Thanks, Al."

"Anytime, but can you be straight with me on one thing?" Al filled Ellie's mug and picked up his.

"Sure?"

"How long have you and Rosie actually been together?"

"Not long…" Scorpius looked down at his mug.

"This is definitely not a brand new relationship, Scorp."

Scorpius sighed, "What gave it away?"

Al chuckled, "You didn't knock when you came in today."

Crimson colored Scorpius' cheeks, "Yeah, Ron told me to stop knocking about three months ago."

"And…"

"And he told me to stop calling him Mr. Weasley and call him Ron for Merlin's sake about four months ago."

"And…"

Scorpius finally looked up, "And I got the courage to ask Rose out six months, two weeks, and five days ago."

Al tapped his mug against Scorpius'. "Cheers, mate. I'm happy for the both of you."

Scorpius grinned and pushed off the counter. "Thanks, Al."

[rhodesmystery]

the first foot forward

London doesn’t look familiar, but in saying that, Charlie had never spent much time there anyway. Bill seems in his element, as they wind through crowds, out of the alley they’d arrived in. Passed off the Portkey to a ministry official, all nods and shaking hands, before then. They say something, perhaps about Natasha, that’s just white noise for Charlie. Focuses on his feet, making sure he doesn’t trip, as they walk on.

I’d always meant to write something, of when Natasha got her injuries. Guess madly writing something at 2am is the way I’m gonna do this. Happens sometime mid ‘93. Charlie POV. I’ll do a part two for this as well. 

When Charlie gets a shout of his name over the roar of the resident dragons, he thought he was hearing things. Truly, as it was almost unheard of to go anywhere near the nursery, and not find him. So, he assumes that him being called was due to a newer member of their team unaware of his usual dwellings, and promptly ignored it.

Not until his name was repeated another four times, does Charlie finally turn. Handing off the young Welsh Green off to a nearby witch, he gets up. Can hear the voices, imagines the hands pointing. Feet carry him to the nearby fence, still firmly locked and charmed. Well, no one had forced their way in at least.

Wand ready to undo a few precautionary charms, he doesn’t have to. Not when the gate unlocks from the other side, opening a door to the rest of the sanctuary. Charlie goes to grumble, something about not watching for any potential escapee younglings, especially considering that three hatchlings went walkabout the other week, when he stops. Voice catching in his throat, at the sight of Bill.

Bill, tall and normally quite bright, with red rimmed eyes and lank hair, sallow skin. Like something had sucked all the happiness out of him. Thanking the wizard, Harrington, beside him, Bill all but pulls Charlie out of the nursery. “We need to talk,” he says, firmly, without giving Charlie any room to argue. 

“We’ll go to mine.”

The walk to Charlie’s place was fearfully quiet, only filling his head with countless worries. Was it mum? Dad? he thinks, unsure what he would do. What he should think. Ginny? No, not Ginny, not again. When Ron had regaled the family with what had conspired in his second year of schooling, Charlie had been over in a flash to the Burrow, equal parts preventing his parents from not sending his siblings to school once more, but also for Ginny. All out of sorts, smile never quite reaching her eyes again. Charlie’s hands shake, as he turns the knob to his place.

What constituted as his place of residence was one of the smaller housings, not too far from the others. Single roomed, as he had done his time in the dormitories. Filled with papers and photos, all moving around. Perhaps it helped that he had moved up in the relative ranks in the sanctuary, to warrant his own place. He goes to get a mug, trying to think of something to say to Bill, without letting his own fears show. At this point, Charlie realises that he probably should invest in a clock much like the one home. That he shouldn’t have run so far away.

“Bill—”

“It’s not—it’s not mum. Or dad. Or Percy or Fred.” Bill’s voice is tight when he responds, but runs through their siblings, their parents. Several aunts and uncles and a cousin or two Charlie couldn’t say he’d heard of. He’d be lying if he didn’t say that relief washed over him.

“Good, good, okay.” Leaning against the counter now, fingers pressing into the metal of the sink. Staring at the drain, mug forgotten. That was, that was okay. Wasn’t it? Nothing had happened (yet). Barely into his third year, Ron was. And Charlie had read all the papers and heard all the rumours. Even when they visited Bill over the summer, the air was tense, worries exchanged over moving photos. 

At that thought, Charlie looks to his left, out the corner of his eye. A photo sat, never once getting dusty, fondly moved about, with Charlie never noticing until too late. He smiles, when he watches the couple spin around, slowly, deliberately, never once taking their eyes off each other. Charlie watches as even, years on, the dress Natasha wore glittered, hair perfect, lips painted, eyes only on him. And he knew exactly how he looked at her.

Oh.

Pushing himself up, faster than he should’ve, Charlie turns on Bill. Oh, oh no, oh no ohnoohno.

But Bill, despite looking like he hadn’t slept in several days, was faster. Thoughts not muddled with the past and the present. “St Mungo’s.”

Catches Charlie off guard, as he lets out a rough “what?”

“That’s where she is.” Bill clears his throat, runs a hand over his face. “She’s… she’s alive. Stable. Something got to her, and they found her in time.”

“Why am I hearing this all now?” Control, he tries to tell himself, control. Don’t get too emotional, don’t yell. Forming fists by his side, Charlie can feel his nails dig in a little too hard. “Why didn’t anyone send me an owl?”

“She’s only been there for a few days or so—” And Charlie knows that Bill was only trying to calm him down, he knows. But his vision was closing, dangerously so, where he could only see thinly ahead. “Charlie.” He hears Bill say his name, from a little too far away. “She’s fine. Natasha’s strong. She’ll pull through.”

Swallowing thickly, Charlie doesn’t rub his eyes, unclench his fists. Just continues to stare at the space on the wall. Another photo. Natasha, again. Smiling at him, brightly, from under a sun hat. This time last year, in Greece, where they had made a promise to each other. “What was it?”

“Huh?”

“That attacked her. What was it?”

Bill shakes his head, Charlie can see him do it out the corner of his eye. “No one knows for the moment. Nat’s not awake yet, and when she was found…” Trailing off, Bill shuffles. Arms crossed over his chest, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “I came here to take you with me. I didn’t think you should hear this in a letter.”

Okay. Okay, okay. Charlie can hear himself speaking, out loud. To thin air. Focuses on relaxing his hands, on keeping his head on straight. “When do we leave?” One foot forward in front of the other, towards his room. Everything was mechanical, precise. Packing a bag shouldn’t have been like this, where he just blindly threw what he could think of in there. Somewhere, he was sure, Natasha was making fun of him.

“Shouldn’t you tell someone that you’re leaving?”

Shouldering his bag, Charlie grabs his toothbrush from the bathroom. Don’t look in the mirror, don’t, don’t want to see my face. “I’m due for time off.” The only answer Charlie can think of, as he avoids looking at the mirror, the window. Shuts the cupboards with a little too much force. What did he need? He didn’t know. 

Bill says something. Maybe it was just him agreeing, but he still hadn’t moved from his spot in the middle of Charlie’s living area, out of place. Unsure of where to look, as Charlie could see that every time Bill thought he had settled on a spot, he grimaced, moved on. Too many reminders, around the place. Her scarf hanging on the coat rack, her favourite kind of tea by the pot. Charlie was almost thankful Bill hadn’t followed him into his room, as he wouldn’t have liked seeing the pile of laundry in the corner, Natasha’s idea of where to store clean clothes for later, when she had another visit, completely unannounced. 

When they walk out, they didn’t talk. Charlie couldn’t find the words, even if he wanted to. Until, he realises, they would take some time to get there. “How did you get here?” does he finally ask, as Bill had begun to lead the way. 

“Portkey. Can’t Apparate that far.” Short, clipped answer, but enough. Charlie doesn’t press it any further, doesn’t feel a need to know the ins and outs. Just trusts when Bill offers his hand, reaching for the shoe at the edge of the sanctuary.

He doesn’t look back. Knows that he’d be in a bit of trouble, for leaving the way he did. No, he wasn’t wrong, about due for time off. Only had two weeks off last year, spent with Natasha far away. Before that, next to nothing. Sure, Egypt was this year, but he’d been practically thrown out by his superiors for working ‘too much, too hard’. Charlie closes his eyes, as the world swirls around him, pulling him this way and that. Man, he hated travelling by Portkey.

London doesn’t look familiar, but in saying that, Charlie had never spent much time there anyway. Bill seems in his element, as they wind through crowds, out of the alley they’d arrived in. Passed off the Portkey to a ministry official, all nods and shaking hands, before then. They say something, perhaps about Natasha, that’s just white noise for Charlie. Focuses on his feet, making sure he doesn’t trip, as they walk on. Only once had he been to St Mungo’s, to visit another fellow dragonologist when discussing what a potential injury might have been. Charlie had been in his second year at the sanctuary, already stepping up. 

When he runs up the back of Bill, does he realise they’d arrived at the entry. Red bricked and advertising under renovations. Charlie squints up at the signs, not taking in how Bill says why they had arrived. Everything was just fading out, even as they step through the window. Bill must’ve noticed, surely, with how he’s gripping Charlie’s upper arm now. 

Once safely through, does Bill shake Charlie a little. “Hey, you in there?”

Charlie blinks once, twice. “Yeah, what?”

He can’t break down Bill’s expression, not really. Too many layers, far too much moving, searching. “Listen to me: she’ll be fine.”

“I know, you said that already.” Charlie couldn’t help the way he sounded childish, as if he should stick his lower lip out too. “It’s why you brought me here, wasn’t it?”

Bill rolls his eyes, purses his lips. “I brought you here as her partner — boyfriend, husband, whatever — because I thought it was the right thing to do.”

It’s like a lot of the air suddenly leaves the room, only enough allowing for the damn near squeak of “what?” leaving Charlie once again. He should’ve been counting just how many times he could ask that one worded question this day alone. 

“They’re restricting visitors, just because of… you’ll see, when you see her—”

Charlie drops his voice to a whisper, but still unable to stop the pitch when he insists “we’re not married, Bill!” Just the thought seemed to knock something out of Charlie. He didn’t know what it was. Would file that away to fret about later.

From the look Bill was giving him, Charlie could almost guess his next few words. “She told me about Greece.”

Letting out a groan, Charlie hangs his head. His cheeks burned, just a little. “Nat needs to stop telling you everything.” And that was the truth. Granted, he knew she was more than capable of keeping secrets, but if Charlie had a sickle for every time Bill and Natasha whispered, he’d be able to afford… well, maybe a ring.

He doesn’t think about that.

Finally, a witch appear at their elbows, looking up at them both with a bright smile. Charlie was always just a fraction concerned about how the healers here maintained such a positive attitude in the face of everything. 

Bill clears his throat, saving the way Charlie just seemed to stare at the smiling witch, as they’re directed towards the reception desk. “We’re here to see Natasha Rhodes. Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley,” he says, with a motion towards Charlie, as if to distinguish between themselves. “I was here earlier, but left to get Natasha’s… husband.”

Charlie was sure he turned pink, from the look Bill gave him to cut that out, but the receptionist politely didn’t seem to notice. “You’re aware that visitors have been restricted for the moment?” 

“Yeah, but uh, Joutley suggested I get my brother down here.” Something else was exchanged, about Natasha’s immediate family being present. Minding gifts, manners, no loud noises. 

The receptionist hums, flicking through files, after giving her little speech. Finding something she was after. With another blinding smile, does she hold out her hand towards the stairs. “First floor, Dai Llewellyn ward.”

Charlie knew that ward. “Serious bite?” he asks, once they were heading up the stairs. That could mean several things.

Perhaps Bill could see him spiralling, and answers before he lost his footing. “Honestly, they don’t know, and stuck her in the most appropriate ward, I guess. You’ll see.”

“You keep saying that.” 

With a shrug, Bill takes Charlie through to the ward, pushing on the door. It hadn’t changed from the time Charlie had been here, and distinctly remembered he was by the bed, towards the far left. But now, judging by the small crowd gathering around the bed situated in the middle of the right row, Charlie knew this time was different. 

There were plenty of faces Charlie didn’t recognise, some barely giving him a glance before turning back to where Natasha lay. Sure, Natasha had pointed some out, in their shared time. Charlie recognised Aleksander Selwyn, giving him a firm handshake upon the look he received back. Short exchange of pleasantries, before he noticed Natasha’s mother.

Lyra. 

Charlie had met Natasha’s mother several times, but each time he was still just a fraction dumbstruck by how startling alike they looked. Of course he knew all the differences, the shape of their noses, the curves of their jaws, the colour of their eyes. Lyra was sharper than Natasha, too, in the way she always seemed to hold a critical eye. Natasha had lamented once, long ago, that her mother was like that because of America, of trying to fit in. Always finding something to complain about, be it her hair or her piercings or her grades or the people she liked. (And Charlie remembers, with some sort of peace, that he had kissed Natasha, that night, cutting off her little tirade)

Beside Lyra was no doubt Natasha’s father, Richard, or something like that. The Americans called him ‘Dick’. Even fewer times had Charlie had been introduced to the man, but in the photos he had been shown, he was tall, proud. Natasha might’ve looked like her mother at certain angles, but Charlie knew that she was her father’s daughter, through and through. Perhaps, what made the knot in his stomach grow, was seeing how the normally upright man was beside Natasha’s bed, head in hands, shaking as he sobbed silently. 

“Oh, Charles, I didn't see you there, dear.”

Lyra spots him, and Charlie works his way around Natasha's family to give an awkward hug. “Sorry, I just arrived.” Even his words weren’t coming out quite right. He was looking anywhere other than the bed.

“Yes, William said he was going to get you. Thank you for coming… Natasha, she—she’s always been fond of you.” Charlie doesn’t think, that maybe her mother didn’t know the real ins and outs of their longterm relationship. If he could call it that. 

“I—I. Yeah.” No, he didn’t know what to say. Not with his arms crossed over his chest, finally allowing his gaze to start to travel up the bed. Lyra smiles at him, in the annoyingly knowing way that Natasha did, when she worked something out. Maybe she did know, after all.

But Charlie finds he couldn’t focus on the similarities between mother and daughter, when he finds himself staring at Natasha’s face. Bruised, swollen. Left side of her face, along the curve of her jaw, reaching towards her ear, was a set of vicious marks, that disappeared under her gown when he let his gaze drop. If Charlie didn’t know any better, he would’ve simply said burns. But a little voice in the back of his head reminded him this was a ward for dangerous bites, and that made him run just a fraction colder.

“Do they… know anything? When did they find her?”

Charlie was sure he was just asking the same questions that Lyra had been answering for days, but she answers with a strong voice. “At this point, they're not sure. They believe it was a creature, but Natasha was found a little far from the grounds in the—in the snow.” A slight hiccup, that Charlie politely ignores. “She was at Durmstrang to break curses, so she might’ve released something.”

They both knew that Natasha wasn’t like that, not anymore. Lyra’s tone told him so too. “Why isn’t she at a hospital in Northern Europe?” Whilst the actual position of Durmstang wasn’t told to him, Charlie did have a relatively rough idea. It only occurred to him then, that they had transported her back to Britain. 

Lyra sighs a little, the expected tiredness creeping in to her voice. “She was up there for a week, before they made the decision to move her. Apparently the facilities here are better.” 

Whilst he knew he couldn’t speculate, but his eyes climb up to the dingy roof, the series of bright baubles being the only light. Better facilities? What a joke. 

For one whole moment, they stand there, watching as Natasha’s chest rose and fell with each deep breath. Charlie assumed they had induced sleep, as he couldn’t remember a time she slept that soundly. Maybe he took a step forward, or sighed in some way, but Lyra pats his hand, reaches for her husband. “We’ll give you two a moment.”

Richard crumbles in his wife’s arms, and the few members of their family follow, until the room was practically empty. Only then does Charlie realise Bill hadn’t left, not yet. He didn’t know what to do next, suddenly aware of his hands shaking, of his vision blurring. Bill takes a seat next to Natasha’s bed, kicks his leg up to rest ankle on knee. “Sit, before you fall over.”

Nodding, Charlie takes what was Richard’s now empty seat. Natasha’s right, where there was no apparent damage. Charlie’s hand wavers, just a little, just a lot, as he reaches for Natasha’s hand. Wasn’t sure if it was allowed, and quite frankly didn’t care at that point, as he holds her hand in both of his. 

He had never noticed how small her hands were, until that moment. 

Bill leans back in his chair, eyes closing. Giving Charlie some privacy? He takes a moment to study his brother, the dark rings, the droopy shoulders. Whilst Bill held it together for administrative stuff, Charlie knew he was tired. Wound up. Arms still folded over his chest, head leaning back. Not a comfortable position to sleep in, not at all, but within a few minutes Charlie can hear the soft snores.

Taking that as the final word from Bill, Charlie looks back at Natasha. Sees the bruises, the scrapes. Thinks of how many others times she’d looked like this, grin on her face, bloody lip and claiming victory. This time was different. She was tiny, broken. And Charlie didn’t want to think like that, not really, not at all. 

He wants to say ‘I should’ve been there’, but that was stupid. He couldn’t have been. He wouldn’t have been. Charlie was in Romania, and Natasha was somewhere far north, and that’s how they had been for a while now. He remembers Bill’s comment about Apparition, not being able to go that far. And he remembers how he failed his test, ending up further than he should’ve been. 

Charlie laughs at that, to himself, despite it all. Squeezes Natasha’s fingers, as he remembers how merciless she had been in her teasing. What he wouldn’t give to go back, do it all over again. Do it right. Where they’d actually talk, stop making promises, stop saying sorry. Maybe not cutting out the making out in the Quidditch locker rooms, but definitely all the other bits. The awkwardness and the tears and the cold shoulders. 

With his eyes only on Natasha’s face, searching for some sign of her, underneath all the pain, does Charlie bring her hand closer to his lips. Presses a firm kiss, to each of her knuckles. Holds her there, eyes closed, breathing short. As Charlie lets go, finally, thick tears escaping the corners of his eyes, he hears the hitch in her breath, the quiet noises of discomfort. What he wouldn’t give.

[eclairz1]

A Flip Zimmerman Fanfiction (1/5)

So, after three days of obsessively reading all the Flip Zimmerman Fanfiction on Tumblr and AO3. @sularae said she needed more Flip in her life so I sat at work all afternoon and did this - 

Flip Zimmerman Fanfiction written to SMUT Prompts: 

“Don’t kink shame me.”

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did we’re having sex. Right now.”

“I think that's the first time I’ve heard you moan…it was like a fucking melody.”

“Just let me finish this/this level and I swear I'll go down on you until you cum at least three times”

Chapter 1:  Don’t kink shame me.

Flip and Ron poured over the Klan files, it was almost the middle of the day and Flip’s stomach growled loudly announcing that it was ready for a mid-day meal. Ron looked over and raised an eyebrow at him.  

Ron talked with the president of the Colorado Springs chapter, Walter Breachway, on the phone pretending to be a white man who hated all the other races and now they had to train Flip to sound the way he did on the phone and go in and pretend to be Ron. They made detailed notes about was talked about on the phone and the kind of things that the Klansmen would like to hear but somehow Flip seemed uneasy. Ron understood why, he would feel the same if he had to infiltrate a group of racist, hate-filled, gun-toting men who seemed to be bent on breaking the law and getting away with it.  

Ron felt anxious knowing that Flip was not a hundred percent sure that they could pull this off, knowing that his actions could directly impact Flip’s life. The phone call had been a whim but now, this was turning into their reality. Ron was ready to expose the plans of the Klan but he didn’t know what the price of this operation would be.  

He glanced sideways at Flip and Jimmy, reading over the files, bent over their tables and let the sound of the pages turning, phones ringing and other mundane office noises comfort him for a second. The door to the Intelligence office opened loudly, Ron jumped in his chair as he looked around, Sergeant Trapp walked in with a great big smile on his face. He held the door open for someone else. Ron craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the person following Trapp. A slow smile bloomed as he saw the woman walking in. She was maybe in her mid to late twenties, her entire appearance seemed to be a struggle between trying to look older while she looked naturally whimsical. She was tall for a woman, long torso and legs were covered in a simple cotton dress that hugged her waist and ended below her knees. His eyes roamed upwards, the curve of her chest was soft and rose and fell with each breath, her skin exposed at the nape of her neck was dark, a terracotta brown that glowed with warm undertones. He knew he was staring but he didn’t care. People with skin tones like this didn’t live in Colorado Springs. He was intrigued. He couldn’t place her ethnicity, she definitely wasn’t white, whatever she was he bet there were a dozen slurs that she would be called in this part of the country.  

Her face was not what most people in this country would imagine when they described pretty, but if you saw her, you would want to look more. A full mouth with dark lips, covered in a plum shaded lipstick, a long nose, and the eyes. Boy, those eyes, dark, obsidian, almost black, wide and playful stared right back at him, her hair was dark black, thick, wavy, falling in natural curls with a mind of its own till her waist.  

Her clothes screamed professionalism but her face and eyes said mischief all the way. She smiled at him, quick and easy. Trapp cleared his throat as he stopped in front of their desks. Flip and Jimmy and looked up and stilled as they saw her.  

“This is Lola, she is a graduate student at the University. She has a special interest in criminal psychology and I thought she could help out with your investigation.” Trapp looked from Lola to the three seated men, the expression on his face open and friendly.  

Ron looked at Flip and Jimmy who were just staring at her. She approached Ron, closest to her with an extended palm, he stood up immediately, and shook her warm, soft hand and introduced himself. He waited for Flip and Jimmy to do the same when nothing happened, he hastily introduced them, wondering what the deal was.  

Flip stared at the woman in front of them, they didn’t need help, they had three men right here. He was pissed off but didn’t care to express that now. Not when she was staring at them with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. He wasn’t going to say no to anything when she was looking at him like that.

Trapp walked out without a second look and Flip watched Ron show the woman around the office, and pretended not to listen to their conversation as Ron explained the case to her.

“So, you understand the need for keeping all of this confidential right?” Ron asked her.

“Of course, I’m sure you can tell by looking at me that someone who looks like me cannot take something like this lightly.” She replied earnestly.  

Her eyes almost popped out when she learned what they were going to do. He felt her stare at him. He turned slightly even though he didn’t want to. He fought the urge to look at her till the last second and nursed his resolve as it gave up and his eyes met hers.  

“So, you are going to pretend to be Ron?” She asked, her full lips pulling into that easy smile again.  

He tried to hold his smile back but couldn’t. Dammit.  

“Yeah, it's going to be an adventure of a lifetime.” He replied with a smile. Humor shining in his eyes as he watched her smile roll into a full-bodied laugh.  

He watched her, incessantly, as they spent the rest of the day together, poring over details, and figuring out the final plans. When Ron pushed his chair back announced that he was ready to home, Lola stood up as well. He admired her quiet insight into the workings of cults and criminal organizations, she obviously was intelligent and clever. Her jokes were funny and light. He felt a sliver of disappointment as he realized that their time together for today was over.  

He was going to go home to an empty house and eat alone, out of a can or a frozen casserole most probably. He groaned as he thought about it.  

The groan caught Lola’s attention, she understood how it felt, to go home after a long, hard day and have nothing to look forward to. She had great friends and a roommate but they were all busy with their own coursework.  

“Umm, do you guys want to come over for a beer? I can buy since I’m new!” She really enjoyed the time she had spent at the office, she had expected to be ignored but was pleasantly surprised to spend time with Ron, Jimmy and mostly Flip. He was quiet but something told her that he wouldn’t always be this way. He was funny, animated, took his job very seriously and added to her understanding that this team was special. She had her run-ins with some of the other cops in Colorado Springs and she sure couldn’t say the same about them.  

Ron was the first to nod, then Flip and Jimmy smiled at her too. She gave them the directions to her house that wasn’t too far from here.  

“Do you need a ride?” Flip asked casually.

“Umm, yeah! I actually just walked. A ride would be great.” she wondered how he knew, then remembered that he was a cop he was probably very observant.

A beer each had turned into four rounds. The day had been emotionally grueling for most of them, and none of them were ready to stop the loud and funny discussion that raged on in Lola’s dining room. The large house was decorated in the open and airy way. Warm colors filled the space that was obviously home to women. Lola mentioned that her roommate was out of town on a road trip and had pulled out beers from the fridge and food overflowed on the table.  

Flip watcher her from across the dining table as she threw her head back and laughed more. He enjoyed watching her, her intelligent mind and mischievous eyes were enchanting. The conversation had somehow turned to the night Ron had gone to see Kwame Ture. Lola mentioned that she had heard of him and his ideas. Her eyes shined as Jimmy told her how Ron got a date out of it.  

She teased Ron mercilessly about mixing business and pleasure and how he was dangerous, first because he was a cop and second because he was smooth with the ladies, landing a date with the president of the black student's union at an event that she was hosting!  

Ron’s eyes got serious as he talked about how Patrice didn't know that he was a Cop.  

“Are you sure that it’s a good idea not to tell her? She’s going to be mad when she finds out and you might be standing between her and her police officer sex fantasies with handcuffs and uniforms” Lola clamped her mouth shut the moment she heard herself say sex fantasies. She had forgotten that she was new to this group and more importantly, they were people she had to work with for the next couple of months.  

Flip snorted some of his beer as he tried to reanalyze what she had said, he looked at her and confirmed that he heard right when she laughed nervously instead of meeting his eyes head on.  

“What did you say?” he asked his voice gruffer than he wanted it to be.

“Nothing” She laughed louder now, her mischievous eyes lighting up and smile widening, “Don’t Kink shame me Officer Zimmerman” she whispered looking straight into his eyes.  

[juggiehasmyheart17-blog]

Ordinary Days 3

A/N I'm sorry this took so long. Writers block then life took me out. Warnings: mention of smut ---- Jughead guided a nervous Betty up to the door by the small of her back. The farmhouse in front of them looked very similar to their own, expect this house wasn't white but a light brown. There was a warm glow coming from the home, a soft music flowing through the cracked window. It was late august so it warm during the day, enough for Jughead to sport his white beater while he worked. But cool enough at night for Betty to wear a sweater over his baby pink dress. Jughead's rough knuckles rapped against the light colored door. Without a second passing by, Jellybean had thrown open the door and wrapped her arms around Jughead. Betty was taken back by the love that oozed from Jellybean, she could tell that Jellybean really loved her brother. That made Betty happy but worried that if Betty ever hurt him there would be hell to pay. “Geez JB! You just saw me Sunday.” Jughead groaned at the impact of her hug before patting her back. “Yes… but! Sunday you weren't a married man!” She exclaimed as she pulled away from him and turned to face Betty. “Hi Betty. I'm happy you're here.” She paused glancing at her small belly. Betty was barely showing but to someone who already knew she was pregnant, it was clearly a baby bump. “May I?” She asked reaching for Betty's stomach. Betty nodded slightly, Jellybean’s hands layer delicately on Betty's stomach. Betty looked over at Jughead who had sighed and sagged his head in defeat. Betty smiled his way, she didn't mind, she just wasn't used to being pregnant or anyone being happy about it. When her family found out it wasn't hugs and belly rubs, it was gasps and angry insults. The only person happy was her sister, Polly, but even Polly had her doubts and worries. Now Betty was standing with a sister-in-law who was no doubly thrilled for Betty and slowly Betty was becoming thrilled too. “Hi there, I'm your Aunt Jellybean.” JB whispered to Betty's stomach. “Come on JB, it’s chilly. Let's not keep them outside.” John called from the door. Jellybean jumped at the sound of his voice, removing her hands from Betty and pulled her gently inside, Jughead following behind. “Sorry I'm not thinking straight, I'm just so happy you're here.” Jellybean explained quickly as the walked through the door. Once inside, they were greeted by two young kids. One, a boy standing about four feet tall and the other a girl close to Betty's height. “This is my son Noah, he’s 7, and my daughter, Anna, who just turned 13.” JB explained as Noah threw himself at Jughead. Jughead grunted at the force and picked him up into his arms. “I milked a cow today Uncle Jug!” The little boy explained with pure excitement. Jughead chuckled at him, “Well then, I'll have to get you to come milk my cows.” Betty watched the interaction, a smile forming on her lips. Maybe her mother had made a decent choice, sending her here to a man who was ready for a family. A fragile hand tugged at Betty's sleeve catching her attention. She turned to face the young girl who Jellybean introduced as Anna. “Aunt Betty?” The girl paused, “I can call you that can't I?” This family had to be as normal as it could be if Jughead and Betty were going to pull this off. “Of course you can Anna.” Betty said with a smile. The girl breathed a sigh of relief and continued her thought. “I sure hope we can get along. I've never had a real aunt, only Aunt V.” She said looking to the living room where a couple around Betty and Jughead’s age. “Aunt V’s advice is um well let's just say I tried it and it did not work out.” Anna said emphasizing the word not. “Maybe we could be sort of friends? Like I can talk to you about stuff?” “Sounds like a plan.” Betty assured Anna as the young girl giggled and skipped away. Next to greet Betty was a slender woman with dark hair. If she didn't know better she would assume this woman was another sister of Jughead's. “Hi, I'm Veronica Andrews, nee Lodge. You can call me V.” She gushed at Betty as Betty connected Anna story with the woman. She wondered what advice she had given Anna. “I'm the best friend’s wife, that's my husband over there.” She said pointing to a redheaded man who sat on the couch reading to Noah. He looked oddly put out of place among the brunette family. Even the in laws seemed to share the hair color trait, leaving Betty and Archie the oddballs out, the blonde and the redhead. “It's great to meet you, Betty Co-” Betty cleared her throat, “Jones. I'm Betty Jones.” She clarified taking in a breath and faking a smile. What a difference a few days had made. “Okay come on! I made pot roast and it's calling our names!” JB proclaimed, ushering them into the dining room. As they all funneled into the dining room, Jughead placed a guiding hand on Betty's back. This was something Jughead had become accustomed to doing in the past few days. It had become second nature to him and Betty found it reassuring, that just maybe they could be friends. They both gravitated to the back of the crowd as they entered the dining room. Jughead slowly leaned down to Betty's ear sending a shiver down her spine. “Are you alright?” He whispered into her ear. She nodded and smiled up at him, “for now.” They all took their places around the table, John and Jellybean occupying the heads of the table. Archie, Veronica, and Anna on one side of the table. Jughead, Betty, and Noah on the other. The spread in front of them filled all the senses, so much so that Betty wanted to dig in with her hands. Maybe it was the hormones but Betty suddenly felt ravenous. “Why don't we say grace?” John announced holding his hands out for Jughead and Archie to take. Jughead rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly before taking John’s hand and reaching for Betty's. Betty willed her face not to turn red as Jughead's hand enveloped hers. She glanced at Jughead to see if he possibly felt flustered too only to find him looking back. She blushed slightly and bowed her head as John began to pray. “We come before you now Lord to ask your spirit on this meal. It has been wonderfully prepared by my loving wife and we are here as friends and family to enjoy it. We thank you for bringing our new sister, aunt, and wife into our lives. May you bless Jughead and Betty's marriage. Forgive us for our sins father, amen.” Betty's eyes began to well up as she opened her eyes. She had never felt so welcomed and loved so immediately. She had spent a lifetime in her own family and yet overwhelming love was never an emotion she felt. She took a deep breath pushing the tears away. Jughead moved their hands underneath the table, not letting go just yet. “You okay?” He asked softly so only she would hear. She looked at him with a smile and a slight assuring nod, but he could still see the tears hanging onto her eyes. He smiled at her, deciding not to press the matter and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. “Ow!” Anna exclaimed from across the table. Betty looked up at her moving her hand from Jughead as if they had been caught. “Stop kicking me!” “Anna! Noah! Stop that! You're gonna make aunt Betty want to leave!” Jellybean sighed shaking her head at her children. Betty shook her head remembering her fights with Polly when they were kids. Jellybean sounded oddly like Betty's mother but she knew it was just a mother's tone she heard. “Aunt Betty? Do you have any siblings who drive you nuts!?” Anna asked throwing a glare at Noah. “Yeah I do, her name is Polly.” Betty explained quietly before taking a bite of her food. “She's older than me. She has a little girl about Noah's age.” Betty explained quickly not wanted to talk about her family. Noah's eyes lit up, “My age? Can I meet her? I've never had a cousin!” Betty almost choked on her water. She swallowed it and shook her head slightly. “I don't know bub. Um...She is uh..” Jughead interrupted her stumbling words, “She lives far away and I don't think her mom and dad could bring her this far.” He deferred quickly as Archie cleared his throat. “Hey Ron, maybe you could take Betty to the hair salon in town, let her meet some of the girls.” Archie suggested changing the topic. As Veronica began to babble about the hilarious thing her assistant Tina did that day in the salon, Jughead turned his attention to Betty. He moved his hand from his own lap to lay gently on her thigh. His rough hands scratched against her smooth freshly shaven skin. Betty jumped slightly at the interaction, unnoticeable to anyone but her and Jughead. His hand had caused her dress to ride up, the fabric laying softly against the rim of her underwear. She looked to him with curious eyes dancing across his face. He turned to her with a small smile that she thought she saw turn up into a smirk. He let his thumb drag slowly in circles along her skin. He looked into to her eyes as if nothing would happen to her because he would protect her from anything, even from his family. She knew he was just trying to help ease her tension, to tell her it was okay, but inside she was having quite a different effect. Her insides coiled as his thumb grazed against her. She wanted to leave and have him in her bed or his bed or wherever they made it to. Their hands searching for bare skin under clothes and their fingers tangled in locks of hair. A mattress or maybe a wall would slam against her back as Jughead plastered her with kisses. Sloppy, wet kisses leaving trails of marks behind them. “Dessert time!” Jellybean beamed startling Betty out of her trance. Jellybean stood in front of the table with a freshly baked apple pie. Betty glanced around her noticing the dishes were cleared except for their glasses. New plates and a fork sat in front of each of them. How long had she been entrenched in her thoughts of Jughead? Jughead removed his hand from Betty's soft skin making an appearance above the table. Betty let out a quiet whimper at the lack of his touch. Jughead glanced at Betty from the corner of his eye, checking for signs that the sound he heard wasn't just in his head. Betty was flustered, still in a state of denial, like he didn't just touch her, like he didn't make her hormones rage. “Betts? Are you ready to go home?” Jughead asked smiling softly at her. Betty swallowed a gasp from the sudden communication. She nodded and pushed back from the table. She wanted to tell him that she wanted to go home and have her way with him, to sleep in his bed. But she push away the idea knowing they had just met and he didn't feel that way about her. “Oh you just got here!” Anna protested. “Aunt Betty is tired. They will come over again soon.” Jellybean explained knowing Betty was probably exhausted from the recent days. Jellybean surely was always tired when carrying her own children, especially during her first pregnancy. Betty needed her space and a soft bed to crawl into. They all exchanged goodbye hugs and kisses. Noah hung onto Betty's leg for a good five minutes before letting go when Jughead pulled him off. “Hey aunt Betty is my girl, only I'm allowed to hold onto her leg.” He teased giving Noah a kiss on his cheek. Betty flushed at the thought of really being Jughead's girl. Something more than a piece of paper and a shared house. Betty and Jughead climbed into his truck waving goodbye to their family. Betty pulled her legs up onto the seat hugging them tight to her body. As the truck moved down the dirt road Betty fell deeper into sleep. “My family liked you… a lot.” Jughead started to talk not realizing Betty was asleep. He chuckled as no response came and he realized she was fast asleep. She was so beautiful as she slept, her face soft, her hair messy. He would stare at her all day if he could, maybe have a painting done of this exact moment. A night that was mostly comfortable and a car ride that defined what dreams were. Ten minutes before they arrived home, Betty stirred from her sleep, tossing on her side to readjust her position. Her head fell softly onto Jughead's shoulder. Jughead smiled down at her, begging himself to refrain from enclosing his arm around her and pulling her close. He tried to make minimal movements with his hands so he wouldn't disturb her. She slept soundly until they arrived at Maple Valley Farms. Jughead put the car in park and turned the car off making Betty stir from her sleep. She sat up rubbing her eyes, “We’re here? That was fast.” Jughead chuckled, “yeah well you slept for like 30 minutes.” Betty smiled and stretched, shaking her head in apology. She reached for the door and hopped out onto the grass. Dakota came running from her dog house at the sound of the door. She jumped onto to Betty searching for attention. Betty giggled rubbing her head thoroughly. “Did you miss me?” Betty asked the pretty pup. In response, Dakota nudged her stomach. Betty scoffed, “I see you only missed the baby not me?” She asked with a giggle. Jughead chuckled from behind her, “Come on. It's getting chilly.” He said casually as walked inside, Betty and Dakota following behind him. They walked in silence into the house and to their separate rooms. Betty wanted to tell Jughead she would like to join him tonight, sleep peacefully in his bed with no expectations. She would change into her pajamas and then maybe she would tell him. Just as Betty entered her room and began to change, her phone beeped. An unknown number popped up on her screen. Hi it's Anna. Mommy got your number from uncle Jughead for emergencies and then gave it to me. I want to know if I can come over and hang with you. You are so cool and I don't have any friends, Just my brother. If you don't want me to, it's okay. I just wanted to ask. Betty smiled at her phone, she didn't know much about Anna or her family but she knew what it was like to feel like a prisoner in your own home. Especially, at the young, transitioning age of thirteen, you needed your space and a good confidant. Hold on I'll ask your uncle. Betty quickly changed into a pajama set of a shirt and shorts with polka dots on it. She sat down her phone and walked towards Jughead’s room. The door was cracked slightly causing it to open when Betty knocked. Jughead looked up from the book he was reading letting out a “hey.” His voice was rough and sleepy, Betty took and deep breath and gulped at the sight of him. His plaid pajama pants hung low on his hips, a noticeable bulge in his crotch. She scrunched her body close to her trying to appear smaller, to disappear. “Reading another baby book?” Betty teased trying to try and ease the tension as well as distract herself from his physique. Jughead chuckled, “No it's a mystery novel,” he sat the book down to look at her. “Everything alright?” “Oh yeah, um, Anna text me and asked if she could over sometime. It seems like she's aching for a friend.” Betty trailed off not sure what else to say. “Sure. I don't mind. I mean the further along you get it might be nice to have company around, to help if needed or just to hang out with someone besides boring me.” Jughead suggested with a smile. Betty chuckled, “you're not boring.” Betty paused as Jughead’s eyes locked on hers, “How about Tuesday?” Jughead agreed and she smiled. Betty opened her mouth to tell him how good he looked and that she wished they could be more than married strangers, that she wanted to sleep in his bed but the strange feeling in her stomach told her not to. It would be a mistake that would change everything in a bad way. “Jughead, Goodnight.” “Goodnight Betts.” Betty walked back to her room leaving Jughead’s door open. As she climbed into bed she found the warmth of the light from jugheads room made her feel safe. She sighed thinking about Jugheads move at dinner, she thought maybe that was a sign. Now it was back to strangers who happened to live in the same house. Jughead sat his book on his nightstand and turned off the overhead light. He laid staring at the ceiling hoping for a more comfortable future. One where her wouldn't have to say goodnight to the beautiful woman who lived in his house. He could hold til they fall asleep. Dakota made her claim on a mutual spot in between the two bedrooms. She was used to sleeping in bed with Jughead but now that Betty had arrived she wanted to sleep with her too. So she decided to take her place on the floor, an equal distance between Jughead and Betty.