#he wouldn't know what answer he expected to hear from Reggie

[galentir]

Alternative universe where Luke and Reggie share the best werewolf vampire solidarity 🤝

[zerolostwalks]

“you came for me…” / “you came back…” for peterpatterlina?

This one got away from me a little and went in a direction I was not expecting at all.

Available to read on AO3 or full version available under the cut.

Luke had heard of evocation, they all had. Despite all the warnings he never expected to find himself caught in the middle of a summoning circle, the glyphs and lines still faintly glowing, a mixture of subtle gold and vibrant lavender. Furthermore, he didn’t expect Reggie and Alex to be caught in the same circle.

Even catching just one of them, as weak as they were, would require a significant amount of power. It’s part of why so few mages bothered with evocation anymore.

And this…this definitely didn’t resemble the residence of a powerful mage. If anything it looked like some sort of large storage shed, although there was a significant amount of flora and stringed lights for a storage shed.

“Ah!” The shocked exclamation drew Luke’s eyes to the unassuming girl standing near the couch set up, which was also bizarre for a storage shed…maybe this wasn’t a storage shed at all.

“I didn’t expect three of you.” The young woman harshly cried, her exact age eluded him. Appearance wise she matched up pretty well with their human forms. So late teens or early twenties? He thinks that’s how old they were meant to look.

The same lavender glow that stained the glyphs pulsed around this woman. Weaving its way through her dark curly hair and casting an ethereal hue to her brown skin and large dark eyes. Based on her age and the lack of the secondary golden aura of magic, Luke reasoned she had to be some sort of apprentice.

What kind of master left their apprentice alone after a summoning? That was beyond stupid, it was plain dangerous. 

Unless…

“Wait, did you summon us on your own?” Alex beat him to the question, an uneasy edge to his voice.

The girl nodded, she hadn’t said her name. Possibly the only wise thing she’d done so far, looking at the glyphs she hadn’t been looking to summon a particular entity. She’s lucky she caught three barely fallen to the ranks of demons and not something stronger. 

She stood taller, her hands forming into fists to hide their slight trembling. “I want to make a pact with you.” 

Luke shook his head to hide his eye roll, he could hear Reggie groan and Alex start to mutter under his breath. Of course that’s what she wanted, mages didn’t exactly summon just to chat.

“Why would we make any sort of pact with you?” A more than valid question any mage should expect. The mage would always be on the better end of whatever deal was made, what with the free exchange of powers. However, mages had very little to offer that would outweigh the cost of a nearly immortal being tying their life to a mortal one. 

Her eyebrows furrowed, but the desperate determination that had blazed in their depths since they arrived never diminished, “wouldn’t you get my soul?” 

All three of them groaned at her question. How old was the tome she’d pulled her summoning knowledge from?

“Even if that were true,” Reggie spoke now, this girl didn’t know just how lucky she was summoning them, any other demon would have taken full advantage of her inaccurate knowledge. “Three demons to one soul isn’t really that great of a deal.”

“Then just one of you make it.” She demanded, practically begged. Reggie’s head cocked to the side, as did Luke’s, Alex’s subtle finger and foot tapping stalled. Now why would she be that desperate?

A question he'll never have an answer to as this had gone on long enough. Luke couldn’t stand seeing how dangerously this girl was playing with fire. He couldn’t guarantee she wouldn't try again and end up in the worst deal of her short life but at least he could rest easier knowing it wasn’t tied to him. He was reasonably sure Alex and Reggie felt the same way, so he grabbed their arms. ��Sorry we’re not interested,” he muttered before trying to teleport away.

Try being the operative and unexpected word. The world flickered like he was blinking through planes and time and space, but he remained in the middle of that lavender glow. He exchanged uneasy glances with Alex and Reggie and watched as they too tried and failed to teleport out.

They then turned their glances to the girl who stood before them. Her chin jutted forward with an almost triumphant smirk, “you can leave once I’ve got my deal.”

“Wha?” Alex examined the glyphs near him as Reggie began to tap around searching for any weak spots. Luke hadn’t heard of any summoning circle that would hold a being where they were, not once they’d turned down a deal. 

Just who was this girl?

*** *** ***

Julie smiled politely from her spot at the edge of the dance floor. A perfect vantage point to admire her parents as they happily swayed to the music. Her mom's hair, barely grown in, was adorned with jeweled flowers that shined bright in the light nearly as bright as her vibrant smile.

She's glad she was able to help her mom. Even if her mom and aunt would have some choice words for her once they found out what she's done, it had all been worth it. So much had changed for the better to include  the unexpected familial reconciliation with Trevor and Carrie Wilson. What she did couldn't have been all that bad if so much good came from it, right?

She twisted her fingers around the stem of the glass of champagne she'd barely sipped to keep herself from scratching at her shoulder. The overlapping glyphs there always burned and itched slightly when she got to thinking about the deal she made. And about the three demons she tied herself with. 

A finger tapped her shoulder right at the center of the warm glyph and she braced herself to turn down another guy for the dance they surely wanted or were sent to ask her for. She'd been denying dances all night much to the dismay of her aunt. Not exactly like she could tell any of them she was currently trapped in the worst case of pining for the unattainable.

She turned and her rejection caught in her throat. Standing there, in formal attire that hugged them perhaps a little too tightly, were Reggie and Luke. 

"Sorry we're late." Luke said as Reggie took her glass from her and gave it to a nearby, and now confused guest. 

Julie blinked at them, trying her best to ignore the aerobics competition her heart and stomach were having. She struggled to formulate why they were even there. When her parents and Trevor had started planning this event they'd extended the invitation for the guys to attend. 

Her dad had even taken it a step further and offered to let them play. Since he had caught the four of them messing around in the garage with some of the instruments they had stored there and thought they sounded good. 

The guys had seemed uncertain about the praise her dad had showered them in so she had declined the invitation to play. It was supposed to be a celebration of her parents after all. Then when the guys asked if she wanted them there, she'd assured them they didn't have to come.

"Why are you here?" she wondered aloud as Luke guided her out to the dance floor. 

He held her close, a hand on one of her hips, the other still holding the hand he had guided her with. He chuckled slightly, his breath dancing across her neck, "I thought that was obvious."

“You came for me?” Julie asked a little breathlessly while Luke spun her out, Reggie caught her hand and pulled her close to him. 

“You did call for us.” His rakish grin melted into a look she didn't know how to begin to decipher as he held her tight against his form. One of his hands trailed up her back, fingers idly drawing over his glyph. His nose traced along her jaw as he whispered, “and we’ll always answer that call.” 

She didn't even remember calling them.

White static threatened to take over Julie’s mind under the weight of his words combined with the warm feel of him pressed against her. Static that got louder as Luke pressed in from behind. She swallowed her fluttering nerves down and mentally chastised herself. Of course Reggie had to have meant literally they had to answer her call. 

They never told her how exactly their deal affects the three of them but she's not aware of them ever being able to deny her anything. Not since that first nearly month-long standoff they had when she first summoned them, when they'd stubbornly refused to make a pact with her–talking about practically anything else they could think of. With that in mind she'd been trying her best to keep her developing feelings in check, not wanting to inadvertently force them to do anything they otherwise wouldn't. 

A near impossible feat when the two she'd slowly been falling for had her trapped between them the way they did. Quickly she thought of the first thing to pull her from the precarious ledge her thoughts had become, "Where's Alex?"

Reggie exhaled a loud sigh as his forehead dropped to her shoulder. Luke huffed out a wry laugh from behind her. Both of their hands moved to her waist or small of her back, as they each took the slightest steps back. Just enough for her to realize how close they had been toeing the line of chaste before.

"He's over by the canapes with Willie." Luke stated, after a quick exchange of indecipherable glances with Reggie. 

Julie nodded, she wasn't entirely sure how Alex had met Willie but he'd been exponentially happier ever since he had. She settled back between Luke and Reggie, the three of them swaying along to the music as she tried to gather the mental strength to pull herself out from between them but it never happened. Instead she spent the rest of the night with at least one of them always near.

*** *** *** 

Fights made Reggie uneasy, they always had. He never told the guys but when they had initially fallen it was one of the things he'd secretly hoped would stop being an issue for him.

His luck had never been kind enough to grant him things like that.

The latest fight with Julie had gotten pretty bad. Not as bad as the ones he'd witnessed when playing guardian but for the four of them it couldn't be called tame. He'd decided to wait out the aftermath in the garage leaning back on the couch. Absent-mindedly, he plucked out nameless tunes on the bass while his eyes studied the lingering remnants of their summoning circle peeking out from under the rug Julie had used to try and hide it. 

"Oh." Julie paused in the garage door way, her eyes landing everywhere but on him. "You came back."

Reggie snorted at that, "you didn't think we'd be that easy to get rid of did you?" He set the bass aside but otherwise didn't move.

Julie shrugged as she hesitantly joined him on the couch. A little too far away for his liking but the fight was still buzzing too loudly through his mind for him to risk moving either of them closer. When she spoke she sounded way too small, "I mean after some of the things I said I wouldn't blame you guys for leaving if that was what you wanted."

He didn't even know where to begin to unpack any of that. Moments like this made it so obvious that she taught herself everything she knew about summoning and pacts. Which in turn always made his stomach turn a little uneasily that he ever relented and let himself or any of them make one with her in the first place.

“Jules, we couldn’t leave now even if we wanted to.” He admitted, averting his gaze once hers started to look guilty. “Not for any significant amount of time anyway.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered “for more than just the fight.”

“Hey, it’s all good.” he threw the words out, hating when she sounded this small and defeated. She should never have to feel like that. 

At her dubious look, he tried to subtly change the subject. Not all that successfully but she played along with a small eye roll. He smiled, when she noticeably began to relax again. His own tension eased away as the two of them continued to talk and joke around.

The smile he’d worked so hard to get back on her face faltered slightly as she thought something over. “I should probably go find Luke and Alex and apologize to them as well, are they nearby?”

Reggie shook his head with a little smirk. There she went shirking away from her power again. "You know, if you really want them here, you could just pull harder." He said as he debated returning to the bass.

Her brows furrowed as she examined him, "what?"

"When you call…just put a little more force into it. Right now all your calls and orders feel more like gentle requests than actual commands."

"I haven't been forcing you guys to do anything?" Her wide eyes may have been looking toward him but she wasn't looking at him. Instead her focus was somewhere beyond him, beyond even the room maybe.

"I mean, not really." He shrugged, not entirely sure why he couldn't seem to shut up at this exact moment. Most beings in a pact wouldn't exactly be so forthright with this particular bit of knowledge.

"You can tell me no?" she asked so quietly he almost missed it.

"Sure, if we really wante-mmph" Reggie froze, wide eyed as Julie's lips suddenly crashed into his.

Final-fucking-ly he thought with a sigh as his eyes closed and he melted under her. But just as his hand came up to cradle the back of her head she pulled back, "Oh, god, I'm sor-"

"No, sh sh, no. More? Please, more?" he babbled as he pulled her closer again, lips brushing against hers. Honestly, it made very little sense how desperately he craved this small, tame kiss. 

She nodded as her lips brushed against his. He smiled against her mouth when she pressed firmer against him. He wrapped the hand he didn't have tangled in her curls around her lower back pulling her to sit in his lap. 

His tongue had just swiped along her lower lip when something heavy landed on the couch beside them. She briefly tried to pull away but Reggie was too lost in drowning in the taste of her to let that happen. Besides he could tell by the sputtering it was Luke, who else could it have been? And Luke always did enjoy a good show.

"Fucking finally," Luke groaned, causing Julie to giggle slightly. Oh, the three of them were going to have so much fun together.

[artdecosupernova-writing]

OC Kiss Week Day 1: Dance

WIP: Partners Pairing: Ben x Reagan Timeline: what is this...1954 I think? god I don't know. it's between installments 1 & 2 of the "trilogy" CW: none Rating: T Words: 1,257

***

Reagan paced on the flagstone patio of the venue, cigarette in hand and humming along with the soft, slow jazz bleeding through the glass door. The three flutes of champagne he'd imbibed were making a noticeable dent in his focus, and he lost himself within the peaceful thrum of the world outside, in the cool night air, as wedding guests and bride and groom danced inside.

He started to sing, knocking ashes to the floor and tipping his face toward the sky. The song didn't have words, but he invented them, deciding subconsciously that it was about a lonely traveler on the way to a destination that existed only in his dreams.

"That's gotta be a superstition, right?" a voice said from the door. "Singin' something like that at a wedding's gotta be a bad omen."

Reagan smiled and turned on his heel, taking a drag simultaneous to sweeping his eyes over his best friend's face, his neatly-pressed tux, the slight stiffness in his shoulders. "Hey, boy," Reagan said softly.

Ben closed the door behind him, shrugging out of his tux jacket and loosening his bowtie once he discarded the outer layer onto one of the tables. "Why do you look better in a yarmulke than I do? Never mind, don't answer that."

"What're you doing out here?"

"Should ask you the same thing," Ben said, stuffing the tie in his pocket. "...I had too much wine."

"You didn't bring your beautiful bride?"

"I just needed a minute."

"You look a little nervous."

Ben took his own cigarette out of his pocket, waiting as he always did on complete instinct for Reagan to light it with his shamrock lighter. Reagan watched him through the small flame, then glanced back through the glass door as Faye stood among the throng of guests, laughing with Ben's mother, Shoshana, and one of his aunts.

"I don't think I've ever been around this much family at once," Ben muttered, exhaling smoke as Reagan put the lighter away. He rolled up his sleeves. "It's bad enough I can't think over the music."

Reagan didn't feel the need to point out that as far as live bands went, that one was particularly quiet. Instead, he reached up to secure Ben's yarmulke better to his head.

"Somethin' on my mind, Reggie," Ben said after a patient silence and Reagan had finished his task. "That toast you made earlier..."

"Wasn't much of a toast, was it?" Reagan said.

"I'm gonna need you to come up with a better one."

"Stop the band and gather everyone back to the tables, then, you absolute idiot."

Ben wouldn't meet his eyes, Reagan just realized. His gaze darted all around the patio and across the woods behind the building, taking in nothing but darkness and the deep, solid blue sky. "...I just thought there would've been more to it."

"I said that no one deserves happiness more than you." Reagan stepped a bit closer. "And I meant it."

Taking another drag of the cigarette, Ben nodded. He didn't appear to want to participate in any sort of levity whatsoever at the moment, which provided mild discomfort. "I guess I expected more."

"I couldn't say anything else, Benny," Reagan said, dropping his own cigarette and squishing it out into the flagstone with his shoe. "It wouldn't have been new to you, anyway."

"Still would've been nice to hear."

Reagan tilted his head and plucked Ben's cigarette from his mouth, putting it out on the stone beneath his feet as well. The band started up another song, slow and warm. "Dance with me."

Ben blinked, finally looking at Reagan's face. "What?"

Reagan took his hand and pulled him close, curling an arm around his waist. He delighted in the feeling of Ben fully melting into him, lacing their fingers together and moving in easy circles across the patio.

"Here we go," Reagan said happily, sighing as Ben's other hand absently found his spine. "Nothin' wrong with the groom dancing with the best man."

"There's quite a bit wrong with this, actually," Ben said, though he made no move whatsoever to stop the shenanigans. He smoothed his hand down Reagan's back—very casually, but Reagan inwardly shivered. "Very clever, though."

"I thought so."

"Just don't try to bring me to your car. I think my wife might have somethin' to say about it."

"I've been swimming in champagne for the last half hour," Reagan joked. "I don't even know who you are right now."

Ben pulled his head back and made deliberate eye contact. "I think you do."

Reagan held Ben's hand closer to his chest, and the comforting din of the party behind them faded away. He smiled. "I like when you're close to me." They made their leisurely way to the other side of the patio. "...Nothin' wrong with that."

"What's your limit?"

Instead of responding to that directly, Reagan's smile widened, what was once feigned innocence becoming deep and private mischief. "This makin' you uncomfortable?"

Ben assessed the question, eyes roving over Reagan's face. "No. Have any words of wisdom to impart on the newlywed?"

The warmth began to leech from Reagan and the light chill of the night took only some responsibility for that. "...You should rethink marriage."

"That's fuckin' fantastic, Reggie," Ben exclaimed, though he had yet to stop dancing.

"I don't think I was cut out for it," Reagan explained. "I think maybe I'm askin' too much of Carolyn to stay with me when I've expected her to tolerate my sleepin' around so much."

"We'll chalk this up to the booze."

"You're right," Reagan said suddenly. "I can't be sayin' shit like that at your wedding; it's not fair."

They watched one another as they danced, wordless for a few minutes, forgetting—for better or worse—that anything else was going on, that anyone else could've ruined their moment at any time. Ben seemed to soften in Reagan's arms, to let an unseen barrier fall with each gentle step they took, and Reagan fought every instinct to coax that further along.

"You know I'd do anything for you, right?" Reagan murmured.

Ben screwed his eyes shut, his hold on Reagan's hand tightening. "Reagan..."

"Ben, all you have to do is ask, and—" His brows pinched. "...You called me Reagan."

"Oh, is that your name?"

Reagan grinned once Ben looked at him again. "That's the first time in the nearly thirty years we've known each other that you've ever called me by my actual name."

"Well don't make a big fuckin' to-do about it, Rían," Ben scolded, invoking Reagan's true given name to hammer it home. Then, more timidly, "...We ain't children anymore."

As abruptly as it had started, the mood shifted. They'd come to a halt and Ben leaned into Reagan's chest, fully anticipating Reagan holding him close, holding his head to him as they embraced in silence only broken by the festivities.

"Mazel tov," Reagan said softly into Ben's ear, pressing his lips to his temple. "...Love you."

There was a pause, and Ben held onto Reagan's waist for support as he leaned in to plant a firm, quick kiss to his mouth. Reagan brushed a thumb over his cheekbone before Ben stepped back, almost unwilling to look away until he was forced to, eventually rejoining his own celebration.

Reagan stood alone, hands in his pockets, willing himself to criticize the choice of flowers within the landscaping until he was no longer wracked with the urge to flee into the forest, never to be seen again.

[innytoes]

"I’m a real adult, just last week I bought a vegetable." for Peterpatterlina

Becoming a world famous band almost overnight before Julie had even graduated high school had its perks. Of course, she got to do what she loved, playing music with the guys. She got to travel the country, and later the world. She got to go to cool parties and wear fancy clothes. She got to sit near Beyoncé at the Grammies. They got to do a Buzzfeed Puppy Interview.

Also, there was the stuff she pointed out to her aunt. She didn't really have to worry about the job market, because even if the band called it quits for some reason, she had so many connections she could make it as a solo artist or a song writer. And with the money the first album and the tours had made, she didn't have to worry about scholarships, or loans, if she wanted to go to university. All the money mom and dad had saved could go to Carlos' education.

There were downsides, of course. Tour buses were kind of the worst, as was the paparazzi and the gossip. The schedule could be exhausting, especially when you added in press and events. Sometimes she missed home, missed her family and friends. But it was worth it.

After their world tour, when they were back stateside again, she, Luke, and Reggie bought a nice, big apartment near the beach. Reggie missed hearing the waves, and honestly, she wasn't going to say no to watching her boys attempt to surf on their days off from workshopping their new album.

One thing she hadn't expected was just how difficult normal life was. After a couple of years of mostly touring or recording and crashing at her dad's in between, this was really the first time they had to... well, adult. Do laundry, and cook for themselves, and clean the apartment, and make sure they went to bed at a decent hour so their sleep schedule wouldn't do a full 180 and make them nocturnal.

Suddenly, she felt very guilty about ragging on her dad for making spaghetti so often.

"Do you ever feel like we're just like, fake adults?" she asked the boys, staring at the contents of their fridge. The bottle of ketchup, sad wrinkled grapes, and some dubious-looking lunch meat stared back at her. She was pretty sure everything but the ketchup should be thrown out.

"Hey, I'm a real adult," Luke defended. "Just last week I bought a vegetable."

Julie opened the vegetable drawer at the bottom of the fridge. The smell made her shut it almost immediately.

"I forgot the vegetable, didn't I?" Luke said, peering over the back of the couch. Slowly, Julie closed the fridge. "I'm sorry. Maybe we do suck at being adults."

"Don't worry guys, I've got this," Reggie said, getting out his phone. Yeah that seemed about right. They could just give up and order delivery or something. They could try being real adults again tomorrow. Or just live on take-out forever. Julie made her way over to the couch and crawled on top of Luke, burying her face in his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close.

"Ray says we’re welcome to come over for dinner," Reggie reported. "I also texted your aunt, she'll meet us there. Maybe she can teach us how to like, meal plan or something. Or load us up with so many tupperwares we have at least another two weeks to figure out how to cook for ourselves like real adults."

Julie smiled, lips still pressed against Luke's neck. God bless their boyfriend for knowing the perfect solution to their angst. Of course the answer was family.

"Oh sweet, Ray's making spaghetti!"

[livsoulsecrets]

This pain wouldn't be for evermore - Luke/Julie fic

Summary: Luke struggles with doubts about where he would go to if he crossed over and Julie navigates those feelings with him after Caleb's curse is defeated.

“— Do you think I would have gone to Heaven if we had crossed over?”

Warnings: Discussion of Death

-

It is a quiet Monday afternoon and all Julie wants is to get her mind off her endless school tests by spending her free time hidden away at the Studio working on some new songs. Luke’s plans seem to be fairly different, considering the amount of attention he is putting on staring at the ceiling with a stern look on his face.

— Julie, can I ask you something? — Luke questions as soon as he realizes she is in the studio. He was sat down on the couch, which wasn’t that uncommon, but his posture was full of tension. She frowned her bow and walked to sit next to him.

— Hum... Good afternoon to you too, but, sure, you can. — Julie answers, mildly concerned by how distressed the boy looks.

— Do you think I would have gone to Heaven if we had crossed over? — Luke’s voice is an octave higher than usual and Julie opens and shuts her mouth while absorbing what she just heard.

She remembered how Luke joked about them maybe ending up in hell during the band meeting before what they thought would be their last show together. Still, Julie had taken that as Luke deflecting from the terrible situation with humor, as he usually did, but it was clear now there was some truth behind his comment. She never thought Luke would be the one to worry about that, after all, this type of concern would fit Alex’s anxious mind or Reggie’s curious thoughts a lot better, but not confident, radiant Luke.

Despite the unlikeness of the situation, Julie could tell his question was sincere, the serious look on his face the same of the day Julie went to see his parents. Her heart breaks with the vision, wishing she could somehow take his pain away, like she did with Caleb’s mark. She can’t do that now, so, instead, she reached for his hand, holding it between hers, hoping to offer some comfort.

— Of course, I think you would be in Heaven if you had crossed over. — She said softly, not understanding how Luke could possibly think otherwise.

— Are you sure? Because I’m not. — He insists, pulling away. Julie blinks, not expecting him to break the contact. He gets up and starts walking around the studio, restless.  

— What makes you think that, Luke? — She asks, hoping his answer will make her understand his behavior.

— I mean- Like I told you, I’m not the easiest person to be around. I’m stubborn and reckless. I don’t think before I do things, which sometimes makes me push people too hard. I ran out on my parents- I broke their hearts. It is not even just that, the way I bailed on you that night, even though it meant a lot to you? How I let myself be distracted by Caleb and didn’t protect the boys against him? I keep messing up... Even when it comes to the people I love.  

Julie is struck by how Luke mentioned herself and the word “love” in the same sentence, but he seems to be too absorbed in his own spiral of concern to notice her shock. She pushes that realization out of her mind to try and help Luke instead.

— Luke, none of those things would be enough to make you not go to Heaven. I didn’t even know you believed in those type of things, to be honest. — He sits back by her side, but his eyes are glassy and distant.

— I don’t. I mean, I don’t think I do, never really gave much thought to this sort of thing, but I guess dying makes you reconsider, well, everything. — Luke admits and she curses herself for not realizing how much this doubt was affecting him before.

— I understand that. Still, I’m sure you would go to Heaven, like, right away! You wouldn’t even need to go through the purgatory stage! — Luke straightened his posture and turned to her, in shock.

— I didn’t know there was a purgatory stage! — He groaned, crossing his arms.  

— I mean, I don’t know it either, it is just what tía says! — Julie added, afraid she was doing more harm than good. — Anyway, it doesn’t matter because you wouldn’t go there. All those things you told me about, they don’t make you a bad person. So what if you are not an “easy” person? Nobody is easy to live with, once you know them enough. You already made up to me a thousand times ever since that night and you know very well that Caleb manipulated all of you into staying there with him. It was not your fault at all.  

Luke still had his arms crossed, as if he was a little kid being told off, but Julie could tell he was paying a lot of attention to her words. Julie contained a small smile as she watched his eyes dart over to her as she spoke.

— I know there is nothing I could say that would make you feel better about your parents, but I can assure you they love you a lot, you saw that already. If there is a Heaven out there, it would understand you were just a teenager trying to follow your dreams. You made some wrong choices and acted on impulse, but your parents made mistakes too. We all do, because we are only human. If messing things up is enough to turn someone into a bad person, then, I guess we are all set to go a long way down.  

Once she finishes talking, Luke is staring at her with wide eyes, turning his jacket’s zipper on his hands, a nervousness to the action that felt unfamiliar coming from the usually laid-back boy.

— Not you, though. — He murmured, quietly. She tilts her head, confused about what he is talking about. Luke seems to notice it because he quickly adds: — I mean... There is no way you would end up anywhere other than Heaven. You are Julie. There is nothing bad about you. — Luke’s voice trembles a bit and he drags his eyes away from her face to stare at the floor.  

Julie doesn’t fight the smile on her face this time.  

— Well, I think there is something bad inside everyone. Still... Thank you for saying that. — Luke nods sharply, still intently not looking at her. — Luke, hey. — She calls, laying a hand on his shoulder, a familiar shiver making its way through the tip of her fingers to the base of her spine, the feeling of touching him still so new... Yet so right. — I meant everything I said. I’m sure Alex and Reggie would agree with me and, if your parents could talk to you, they would say the same.  

Those are the words that finally make him look up at her, allowing Julie to see the tears sprinkling on his eyes, the sharp line of his mouth. She hesitates for a mere moment before opening her arms, offering Luke the spot between them.

His mouth opens slightly and there is a shadow of doubt in his face before he is falling into her. Luke buries his head on her shoulder and her hair is caught under his nose, which she is sure is not the most comfortable position, but he doesn’t seem to mind, holding on strongly to her. She lets him cry on her arms as she squeezes him tightly and pretends not to hear his choked sobs.

Julie knew ghosts didn’t have a scent; still, she liked to think that the soft smell of her mom’s flowers still thriving in the Studio and the sweet touch of wood that her piano emanated were Luke’s signature fragrance. After all, there was no way of parting his smile, broad hand gestures and contagious love for music from the place they met. The place where they cried and laughed together, where they created music and magic and... Something more.  

So, Julie closed her eyes and allowed herself to imagine a world where they were just a boy and a girl holding each other, a world where Luke would get to go home to his family and know how loved he was, where Julie’s mom would be waiting for her in the kitchen to hear all about her day and the boy with a sweet smile. They would never get to live in that world, but, for now, it was enough to just pretend.

Once the fantasy was gone, though, they would still have each other and, somehow, that would be enough to get them through their worst days.

[roseyserpents]

Delicate

Summary: after you lose everything you made friends with some Serpents, but you worry your new feelings would ruin what you have

Word count: 2,616

Warnings: mentions of sex (that's about it I think)

A/N: This is a song fic with Taylor Swift's Delicate! this is the first fic I've posted in a few months so it might be pretty bad :|

This ain't for the best

My reputation's never been worse, so

You must like me for me

You used to be at the top of the social ladder in Riverdale High. You walked the halls with Cheryl Blossom and Reggie Mantle and the like. You were a co-captain of the Riverdale Vixens, proudly wearing the uniform and looking down at the people who could only wish to be like you. To be someone everyone knew and was invited to every party. Someone who could get a boyfriend with the snap of her fingers and get everything she wanted just by saying it. You used to be that person. Until your mom lost her job sending you both tumbling from the richest parts of the Northside to Sunnyside trailer park. It was nothing like your old life where you had a closet the size of the entire trailer and any type of food you had a craving for. Now you had a small dresser and two cabinets that held Cheerios, Graham crackers, and ramen noodles. You traded your high and mighty life at Riverdale High for being the new soft kid from the Northside at Southside High. It was as if you were standing on the top rung of the ladder and someone pushed you off, sending you crumbling down to the bottom not even getting a grip of it. Your reputation in Riverdale was ruined.

That's why you were surprised when on your third day in hell a certain Serpent named Fangs Fogarty decided to take a chance on the Northsider that stook out like a sore thumb and invited you to sit with him and his friends at lunch. Fangs didn't have much of an issue with your past but it took the others about three months for them to consider you worthy of being called a Southsider. One of the people who scoffed and rolled their eyes every time you appeared or spoke was Sweet Pea. But he even came around to you eventually, you becoming part of the group. Part of the Southside.

We can't make

Any promises now, can we, babe?

But you can make me a drink

You were finally okay with your new life after a year and a half when the news of Southside high closing traveled around. You were sent a letter in the mail that you would be transferred to Riverdale High effective by Monday of the next week. Riverdale High where everyone who used to adore you would now glare down at you for being one of the transfered students. Riverdale High where you knew there were rumours about what happened to your family and you were had been receiving hate for it. As soon as you read the letter you threw open the door to your trailer and made your way to the Whyte Wyrm, sitting down with a heavy sigh and your face twisted into an expression of rage.

"See the letter?" Sweet Pea asks, appearing in front of you from behind the worn bar counter. You don't reply, simply nodding and drumming your stiff fingers on the wood. "It'll be fine. You already know everyone."

"You don't understand." You say with a humourless smile and a shake of your head, "They're ruthless to anyone with remote connections to the South. I'm not going to be able to walk the halls by myself without getting the shit beaten out of me."

"Serpents wouldn't let that happen." Sweet Pea says referring to you joining four months prior. "That's a promise."

"Might be a hard one to keep." You sigh. "Can you make me a drink?"

As anticipated by you the first two months of being back at Riverdale High was horrid and filled with you getting pushed becoming the students physical and verbal punching bag. They threw words at you about how now you're Southside Serpent scum and no longer one of them. But eventually most of the Northsiders got bored of bullying you all and dropped it, mostly only Bulldogs and Vixens starting feuds. You'd eventually made friends with a few Northside kids you'd never noticed when you went there through Jughead including Betty Cooper, Veronica Lodge, and Archie Andrews.

"So, I convinced my parents to let me use our lake house for the break." Veronica says as she sits down in the student lounge. "I figured we could all use it as a romantic getaway."

"Sounds great." Betty smiles for her and Jughead.

"You guys have fun with that." You sigh, leaning back in the couch.

"Aren't you going to come Y/n?" Archie asks, everyone turning towards you.

"I would but I don't exactly have someone to go with." You answer.

"Why don't you bring Sweet Pea?" Jughead suggests, raising his hand that rests on Betty's shoulder.

"Sweet and I- we're not like that. We're just friends." You stutter, trying to stop the heat creeping up your necks and onto your cheeks. You didn't want to even admit to yourself you'd grown to like the tall, quick tempered Serpent as more than a friend. The butterflies that flew in your stomach every time you saw your friend scared you because you knew it would change things so you stuffed the feelings way down inside of you and locked them in a box. That nobody was allowed to unlock or even see. Those feelings were off limits and would just turn everything into a mangled knot.

You see Veronica and Betty have a conversation with their eyes before turning towards you. "Bring him, it'll be a friend thing instead of a romantic getaway."

"No, you guys can have your date thing I'll just hang out with the Serpents." You reject, not wanting an extremely awkward week or to ruin theirs.

"Hangout with that Serpent with us." Veronica says with her "I'm not going to stop bugging you until I get my way" look. You sigh and press your lips into a line, looking between the two of your friends before speaking.

"If you guys can convince him to go, I'll go." You finally give immediately regretting it as the two of them look to Jughead.

You'd decided to leave to go to your locker, the others waiting for you to be out of ear shot before talking.

"Y/n and Sweet Pea like each other right?" Archie asks, turning to Jughead.

"Oh yeah definitely." He answers, stuffing a Dorito in his mouth.

"Which means we need them both to come." Veronica adds, quirking a brow as she smiles.

Your stomach flipped at the texts as you realized you just accepted to go on basically a date with Sweet Pea that you were technically forced to do. Still in disbelief the next morning you packed a bag filled with clothes and your basic necessities before walking outside, confused when you see Sweet Pea standing there.

"I was expecting to meet you there." You say, explaining your expression when he quirks a brow at you. He shrugs, hand scratching the back of his neck before falling back to his side.

"I figured I could give you a ride." He says, gesturing to his motorcycle leaning on its stand.

You look to your own propped against your house and look back at his, debating the decisions before walking towards Sweet Pea. He flashes you a small smile before swinging his leg over the seat, you doing the same and wrapping your arms around his torso. He revs the engine before pulling away from the trailer park and makes his way to the lake house using the directions Veronica had sent that morning. You tried to ignore how your heart seemed to stop whenever you remembered how close the two of you were, trying to keep your focus on the passing woods.

After about forty-five minutes you slowed to a stop in front of a house the size of the entire Sunnyside trailer park. The others approached you as you and Sweet Pea gaped at the building.

"You made it!" Veronica smiles, taking back your attention. "You two can set your stuff in your room."

"Room?" You ask, slight panic rising in your chest at the lack of a mention of separate rooms.

"My uh parents only gave me permission to use three so we're all two to a room." She says, not fully convincing you but you say nothing else knowing it would be a pointless conversation as you follow her into the house. "Last door on the right." Veronica says, you nodding and walking up the stairs with Sweet Pea behind you.

"Holy shit." You hear Sweet Pea breathe as you step inside. "This room is as big as four trailers."

There was a queen sized bed on one wall facing a wall made of windows with a door leading to a balcony. Another door sat on the wall next to it leading to a bathroom, the room complete with themed decorations. You both set down your bags and meet the others downstairs, the sun setting below the lake outside as you made small conversation and played a few games.

About an hour after the sun was out of sight you were all sitting in the hot tub with a drink in hand. While the others sat practically on top of one another you and Sweet Pea stayed a safe distance apart sometimes your arms brushing against each others causing your breath to hitch in your throat. You'd easily finished two drinks trying to loosen up and not be so tense when everyone was having fun. You just couldn't stop thinking about every little thing Sweet Pea did from the smile that grazed his lips when the others made jokes to how you could swear he was getting closer to you.

Events seemed to start blurring into each other, you hardly being able to give any of your focus to the others conversation. You hardly realized you were leaning against Sweet Peas side, his arm lazily hung around your shoulders.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom." You excuse yourself climbing out of the hot tub.

"Are you okay?" Betty asks, observing your wobbled way of walking.

"I'm fine." You say, waving a hand at her right before slipping, twisting your ankle and landing hard on the stones around the water. You hear multiple people climb out as you groan and turn over on to your back, squinting your eyes.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Sweet Pea asks, helping you sit up as you rub your head.

"Totally." You groan, looking around at the others who give you looks of concern. "I'm probably gonna go uh lie down."

With that you attempt to stand up but wince and lift your leg at the pain from putting pressure on your ankle.

"Need help?" Pea asks, standing up next to you. You nod and he wraps an arm around you, trying to help you walk but you find it awfully hard to hop on one leg in your state. He shakes his head before scooping you up in his arms, carrying you the rest of the way inside. He gets you upstairs, setting you down on the bed but falling over and ending up on top of you, his cheeks burning bright red.

"I uh..." He says, opening and closing his mouth to finish his sentence but no words come out.

Third floor on the West Side, me and you

Handsome, your mansion with a view

Do the girls back home touch you like I do?

Long night, with your hands up in my hair

You look into his eyes, your hand coming up to cup his face before bringing your lips to his. He hesitates a moment before returning the kiss, moving himself fully above you. The once small kiss quickly turns heated, your hands roaming his body. Your lips trail down to his neck, sucking on the soft skin. His hands lace in your hair, tugging on the y/h/c locks occasionally.

That night you did something you'd never imagined would happen between you and Sweet Pea, not even thinking about how many boundaries were bring broken and how you weren't thinking of your delicate friendship.

The next morning when you woke up you immediately felt yourself go hot clammy finding your head on Sweet Peas chest with nothing but the bed sheets separating your skin from his. Your heart tightens in your chest as you back away from him, having to pry his arm from around your waist before retreating to the opposite side of the bed. Sweet Pea groans and opens his eyes as he sits up, the blanket falling off of his upper body as he does so. Your cheeks and ears burn bright red when he looked to you, your eyes holding his for a quick moment before looking down at the mattress.

Is it cool that I said all that?

Is it chill that you're in my head?

'Cause I know that it's delicate

Is it cool that I said all that

Is it too soon to do this yet?

'Cause I know that it's delicate

"Shit..." He mumbles. "Look I um-"

"It's fine." You cut him off in a small voice. You didn't mean to sound so scared but you were utterly terrified of this ruining everything the two of you had. "I just... I don't want this to change anything."

Sweet Pea nods, meeting your eyes again. You don't know why it hurt you to see regret slightly on his.

"I like you, Sweet Pea." You say, everything in you freezing as you say the thing you had barely admitted to yourself. You don't see any reaction on his face prompting you to rant out of nerves. "I thought that if I just ignored it it'd be fine but I can't get you out of my head. I know that you will probably not want to see me after this and I understand that it's just-"

Sweet Pea cuts you off by cupping your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. Your mouth went dry and you couldn't get any words out as your eyes scanned his face finding something you couldn't quite identify. One of the things on your mind was how you were practically shattering the delicate relationship you had. You felt like you were ruining everything and you just lost one of your closest friends because you were stupid and couldn't keep your emotions to yourself.

"I'm sorry. For all of this." You manage to say.

"Don't be." He says quietly. Neither of you quite understood the reason for being so quiet, maybe not to scare the other away with anything above a whisper. In seemingly slow motion he leans forwards until his lips are on yours soft and warm in a delicate kiss made of rose petals. Everything between you two was delicate from the way his hand gently held your face to whatever your relationship was now. But something that wasn't delicate was the fireworks you were seeing even though your eyes were closed, the colours exploding between the two of you. You both pull away, not getting very far as your foreheads press against each others.

"You're okay with this?" Sweet Pea asks, his breath lightly hitting your face.

"Of course." You smile before connecting your lips again, finally breaking through that delicate phase of your friendship and into a relationship that you'd always thought would never happen in that bed, a kiss being the bond in front of the sunrise over the lake making the whole moment even more perfect and warm and golden.

Cause I know that it's delicate

Delicate

[andwinterfell]

"le raison d'être“ characters: Cher Michaels, Darla (Michaels) Matthews, The McCormick Family warnings: implications of parental neglect / emotional abuse / family issues

1981 words originally written 5/26/2017, no edits currently

The small bed and breakfast of Seaside Cove isn't a place most people would find at first glance. It's somewhat off to the side, located on a cliff, it's driveway shielded by trees. One driving through, especially in poor weather, is likely to miss the blue sign that points it's way down that road, or they're more likely to see the yellow diamond that says No Outlet and pass it up completely.

This is what Cher Michaels deals with every time he makes his way into this town. Leaning over the back seat of his Ubers pointing no, no, there it's there… and often sitting back grumbling when they drive past. The small bed and breakfast of Seaside Cove is larger than most houses still. It's old, a tall and skinny Victorian home with with red shutters and a door also painted red. The mailbox is shaped like a large blue whale, and when he steps out of his Uber often his first act is to run his fingers over the details of the metal. Handmade he knows, by the owner's father before he disappeared and became the sort of person who kidnapped rich kids for money. Cher heard he was in jail again last time he talked to his sister. Neither of them knew how to feel about that, all things considered.

There have been a few additions over the years, newly applied paint and a repair of certain parts of the house, a wheelchair ramp and several colorful picnic tables overlooking the sea. The newest thing Cher finds this time is the binoculars sitting at the very edge of the cliff, just before the fence to keep people from falling over. Twenty five cents for a minute, fifty for two. He doesn't know how they keep all this up with prices like that. It's a cheap place to stay too, five open rooms with two beds each at the most and a fee that was far less than most in the area and a house that was hard to find. They get more business in tourist season, but not by much. They have benefactors of sorts, himself semi-included when he can get away with it, but he still can't say if it would be enough. *** Cher Michaels arrives on an off season, bundled up for the cold Friday afternoon after cutting his last class to get here. Accounting, he'd told his sister when she tried to chide him, a class he both hates and excels at so don't sound like such a mother, Darla. “Well, I'm a mother now aren't I?” “You're not mine.” (That phone conversation led to awkward silence, both of them remembering their own mother. Darla makes a sound, probably to ask how Angelique is doing if she's well if she's healthy, but Cher cuts her off before she can. “I'll be there in a bit.”) Now, standing in front of the house, he stuffs his hands into his pockets and shifts awkwardly. He wonders if she's working right now, because he hadn't called her when he got out of class and into the Uber. He wonders if he should have let her ask. *** The small bed and breakfast of Seaside Cove is run by a couple in their late thirties. Junior McCormick and his wife Norelle, their children Andrew and Mia, and Junior's grandfather Reginald. Aside from his sister, they're the only ones who run the house. It's a family business, Norelle had told him, you and your sister are family too. He tries not to think about that. He fails often, it's hard when Norelle McCormick spots you from the window and is suddenly ushering you in, cooing over you like an Aunt you haven't seen in a while even though Cher reminds her it's barely been a month. Darla's not there yet, but his niece and nephew are. Tristan, getting bigger and learning how to walk, chases after Norelle son, a teenager who has the whole angst thing down to a T. Amèlie, nearly five, lays on her stomach at the foot of Reggie's wheelchair, quietly coloring while the old man sleeps. It's hectic as always, and Cher has to thank God that only the bare amount of family is here right now. Thanksgiving had seen this as well as the Winters twins, Junior's half brother with his mother and their childhood friend, and even Junior's father who'd stopped in at the end of the day to cause a commotion and leave again only to be arrested the following month​ for breaking and entering. “No one else is coming, right?” “Well…” “Other than Darla and Jere.” *** He's playing with Mia and Tristan when Darla finally shows up. It's nearly evening when she comes in with her husband, both of them carrying groceries. She's surprised when she sees him there. “I didn't think you were serious about missing class, Cher.” “When do I lie about that?” “Fine, I hoped you weren't serious.” He shrugs. “I'll make up what I missed over the weekend while you're working.” They both know this isn't true. More likely: Tristan will demand his attention, Norelle will need someone to watch Mia, Amèlie will want him to play her favorite slow piano song a hundred times in an hour, Andrew will need help with math. Cher never considered himself to be good with kids until he found himself with his sister's and Norelle’s crawling all over him. He thinks he likes them now, maybe, sometimes. He thinks he's a decent tutor too, he thinks he's getting better at patience. At least, with children. Wouldn't​ want one of his own but... well, it's been pointed out he indulges and humors them more than adults, at least. Before that, though, he pulls a few things from his bag. Wrapped in brown paper and again inside a plastic bag. He gives these to Darla. “Fran sent that envelope of money, Jolie sent the champagne God only knows where she got it, the coloring books too. I found that necklace here, in America, it was cheaper than I expected.” (She cries, of course she does. She wraps her arms around his shoulders. She doesn’t ask what about Father and Maman. Cher leans into it.) *** It's Saturday before he sits down with his sister. She's made iced tea, put it in two skinny glasses that she sits between them in the sitting room. He has Mia on his lap, reading some story to her while she points at brightly colored pictures that follow. Darla sweeps her away, depositing her into her great grandfather’s lap before taking a seat next to her brother. “You haven’t even looked at what you missed yet, have you?” Cher slumps back, looking away from her. “I don’t really need to, Darla.” She reaches out, fingers twitching on his sleeve as she tugs his hand closer so she can set her own in it. He lets her, glances at her, tries not to smile. “Have you decided what you’re going to do when you finish school?” she asks, and any semblance of a smile drops from his face completely. She notices, adjusts the question, it’s no better in his mind but at least it’s something he can answer: “How was Tours?” “Same as always.” “Is Maman doing okay?” “... no, I don’t think so.” “... Jolie?” “I can’t tell. She seems happy. I don’t know.” “Francine?” “She and father fought a lot this time, more than usual,” he leans back. “She’s smarter than him. I don’t think he likes that.” Darla can’t hold back a laugh and covers her mouth after, embarrassed. A little shamed. (He knows why, her laughs aren’t very modest anymore. Aren’t pristine, ladylike little giggles. They’re loud, she snorts now. He thinks it’s his fault, because he’s here she laughs just fine when she’s with Jere, when she doesn’t seem to care he’s watching.) “What does she think of everything going on? Have you told her anything you’ve told me?” Cher shrugs. “No, not as much. I think she can tell something’s up, though. I mean, clearly she knows I’m talking to you. I’m sure everyone does, at this point. I haven’t been exactly subtle, but Father--” “Tell me more about Christmas,” she says, cutting him off. When he looks over she has one of those forced smiles on again, pretty and polite, and he wants to sink into the earth when he sees it. It gets easier the more they talk about it, she even laughs a few times at the way Jolie dragged him out at night, hearing he was going out more. He tells her about his classes, his new ones, what he likes and what he doesn’t. He makes her tell him about her Christmas, after he left, the whole motley crew showing up to fill the house, leaving little room for business. “You’re a Scrooge,” she says when he points this out. “I’m practical.” “That’s what a Scrooge would say, Cherie.” “I haven’t been haunted yet.” “Give it time,” she teases, leaning in to pinch his cheek before Norelle calls her away. One couple had found the place, shivering with snow in their hair and grateful for the warmth of a fire. “The fuck do they think they’re trying to do?” Reggie asks Cher when he comes to pick Mia back up. Cher shrugs. “Sounds like they’re sightseeing.” “It’s fucking winter.” “They want to see the natural beauty, not the tourist traps.” “Fucking stupid of them.” Cher laughs, the only sign of his agreement before he leaves the old man to sleep again. *** Sunday evening, just before dinner, Darla sweeps into Cher’s room with her hands on her hips. “You have class tomorrow, don’t you?” He sets down his book, shrugs. “I sent in the homework when I had the free time. I don’t need to be back for anything urgent before one.” “Cher…” “What if I stayed here? What if I didn’t go back?” (And, it always comes down to this. He always backs up the second he sees the look on her face, the worry, the is this my fault the you don’t have to follow my example the we’re still family no matter what he says. It happens again:) “I’m joking,” he lies, and goes back to his book. He only looks up when he feels the mattress shift, sees Darla sitting next to him, leaning over his shoulder. “What’s this one for?” “Accounting, I told you I’d look over it when I had the time.” But, he closes the book and sets it aside when she leans her head on his shoulder. They stay like that until Andrew peeks his head in, rolls his eyes and says, “Hey, dinner’s almost ready and I still need help with this Calc stuff so…” *** What if I stayed here? What if I didn’t go back? He’d be miserable, he thinks. This was his sister’s life, what she chose to do with herself, and he knows very well he’d be unhappy doing this all the time. They’re different, the two of them. She likes to bake and garden and is excited over how rough her hands have gotten over the years, how much less they hurt the more she uses them. He likes the softness of his hands, likes staying inside cool rooms and playing or reading. He doesn’t know how he would survive with no money and a job that barely paid minimum wage, no matter how much he loved the McCormicks. No matter how much he loved his weekends and holidays here. Monday morning, when she’s hugging him goodbye, she says what she always does. “What if you tried something else? What if you found something else you loved to do?” He never tells her that’s impossible he really wants to believe it’s true.