#itching for the next patch ngl

[avalon821]

Question bombardment time: new year edition

Does Tyr go to watch fireworks for the new year?

What's Kuzhuk's favourite food for the holiday?

Which of your cast gets drunk? How drunk do they get?

Does Freya dress up?

Does Monroe go to any particular location?

Do Jed's chocobos get spooked? Does he spend time with them, or does he take the holiday off?

Do any of your cast return home for the holiday?

Does Andvari have anything that they'd like to do in the new year, any resolutions?

Tyr really enjoys watching the fireworks. He finds a relatively quiet spot to watch them with a warm drink.

Kuzhuk leans toward different meats, but as he’s gotten older he’s become neutral to most foods when it comes to flavor. Easy finger foods are probably the best bet for finding ones he likes.

Monroe is the most likely to drink. How blasted she gets depends on the company. If alone or with strangers, probably just tipsy. With the people she really trusts she will drink more. Especially if the vibes are right, she will get blackout drunk.

Freya likes dressing up and holidays are easy reasons to do so.

Monroe likes celebrating the new year among people. Unless someone has a good enough party for her to want to go (or has someone free she wants to spend time with) she’ll go back to Limsa.

Jed will hang out with his chocobos on new years. If they haven’t gone through combat training/ been desensitized to loud noises they do get spooked and he gets anxious if his birds are in distress.

Monroe technically goes home. Tyr will make a visit to his dad (how long of one it is depends on if he has other plans). Freya will come home to celebrate either New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day.

Andvari would like to get rid of his voidsent try some new foods.

[morvantmortuary]

not a big deal in the long term but still frustrating health stuff underneath:

so I’ve been stuck at home all day with the worst outbreak of eczema I’ve ever had!

on my face!!

I’d only ever gotten it in very small amounts before, usually something that I could dab vaseline on for a couple days and it would fade, or maybe bigger patches on my thighs during the summer, but never on my face :’D I woke up this morning and my eyes were almost swollen shut from itching in my sleep, I guess. not to mention the skin cracking like glass at the corners of my mouth.

they say it’s caused by stress, which I kind of get bc I have my first meeting with my full committee on friday, and I’m already feeling behind, and we’re two weeks from the end of the semester and I only have a year left of funding

on top of this, as I did my research trying to figure out what I could do to alleviate the symptoms, eating for eczema and eating for adhd/autism are apparently super incompatible!! most of my safe/comfort foods are apparently eczema triggers, and most of the foods you’re supposed to eat for eczema are either things I’m allergic to or things that it’s hard to make consistent sensory-wise. all my usual things I depend on to keep myself hydrated/dopamine boosted/not stressed out are, if not off the table, at least likely to make things worse, which doesn’t help when I’m trying to lower any anxiety that might be keeping the itch cycle going. it kind of doesn’t help that a lot of the eczema spaces I’ve seen on social apps and stuff seem to me kind of regurgitating a lot of diet culture/neurotypical assumptions in some of their rhetoric, which. does not contribute to me being able to relax if this is something I suddenly have to deal with to some degree long-term.

I was lucky enough to get a telehealth appointment with my doctor tomorrow, so hopefully she’ll give me something to take that can alleviate THE ITCHING my symptoms and make it so I feel a bit less like blotchy pink nosferatu. but it’s one of those things where I’m having to try really hard not to get more stressed when I was already lowkey constantly anxious about my work not going at the pace I wanted it to, with this check-in meeting at the end of the week with my whole committee that I haven’t seen in months, and now a whole lot of the things I’ve incorporated into my routine are suddenly something that might exacerbate my discomfort. which sucks!!

and for some reason I have cramps, which is also not helping!!

I’m lucky my bosses are understanding and letting me work remote right now, and I’m trying to ignore the overwhelming urge to take my cat and go stay with my folks for the last two weeks of the semester just so I can have some of the day to day stuff taken off my plate. but I don’t want to test my bosses’ patience that much, and that’s not an instinct I can sustain long term (at least probably not wherever I work next, which uhhhh may also be contributing to my constant anxiety humming in the background ngl.)

I have like three people I’ve been meaning to answer/message back, I’ve read everything and I promise I’m not ignoring anyone!! it’s just a little rough over here rn, like physically

oough what I wouldn’t give to see the hearse or the mustang outside my apartment rn. I just. would really like a break!! :’D

[eugenesmorphine]

Hi can i get some Talbert fluff? Like I’ve seen gifs of him fiddling with his bottom lip with his hand when he’s nervous or concentrating so maybe something like that? Like maybe the reader sees him doing it and decides to distract him with a kiss? Thanks so much i hope it’s not too confusing🙈

Special Mission // Floyd Talbert Imagine

AN: Alright, ngl I'm not to confident with this one. But I worked on it for a couple days so I hope you enjoy. And with my tumblr being kind of messed up for some reason, I couldn;t get the gif of Talbert fiddling with his bottom lip. So my bad.

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @hihosilvers @floydtab @punkgeekchic

Words: 2,658

  “Paratroopers L/N, Talbert, Martin, Shifty, and Liebgott! Front and center!" Speirs boomed, crossing his arms as he stood next to Winters. All the Paratrooper's whose name was listed popped their heads up. Scrambling upwards and jogging over to the two officers. Standing at attention, awaiting to hear what they were called for. Winters folded his hands behind his back and five Paratroopers that stood in front of him.

  "You men, and lady are going on a Patrol. Captain Speirs is going to lead it. But, there is one thing," The superior officer's eyes landed on the female and leveled in on her. She gulped slightly. "L/N, since you are the smallest and one of the quickest, you are going to edge your way into the main house. Your skills of stealth, agility, and hand to hand combat through the years had shown your able to do this piece of the mission. We need you to get in and out with information needed as quiet as possible. Not alerting any other Germans outside of that house. The rest of the men will be held back about thirty yards away, making sure that in case of any emergency, they have your six.

  The woman swallowed, never really having this dangerous or valuable. She pressed her lips together and nodded. "Yes, sir. I won't disappoint," she answered, smiling slightly. She would be lying that even the idea of doing this patrol by herself didn't shoot a shot of adrenaline through her body. The two officers looked at each other for a moment, nodding before looking back at the troopers lined in front of them.

  "Dismissed."

///

  Y/N along with the other men were getting themselves ready for the patrol that was set for the night. Talbert walked up from behind her, peering over her shoulder. Watching as she loaded her sidearm and was busy sharpening her knife. He began fiddling with his bottom lip as the anxiety of having her go in a building filled with Krauts in a town that was considered fully hostile. He fiddled, pinched, and pulled his bottom lip. 

  "Y/N you aren't actually going to go through with right?" Floyd asked as he chuckled nervously. The female trooper turned and her eyebrows knotted, confused on why he may ask that. He bit his bottom lip and pulled off his helmet for a second. His sweat filled hair flopping town and sticking to his forehead. "It's practically a suicide mission, doll."

 Y/N could hear the edge in his voice, but orders were orders. And she knew that Winters was a smart man, and she believed greatly in her skills that she could complete the mission. She sighed and rested her weight on her left foot. Placing down her side arm and her knife on the small table that sat behind her. The woman crossed her arms. "Orders are orders, Tab. I can do this mission. You heard Winters, he believes I can do it.I haven't seen one plan of that man's ever fail. I can do this," she answered, faith and strength in her voice. Floyd sighed and went back to  fidgeting with lips. Y/N noticed this behavior that he did whenever he was focused, deep in thought, or extremely nervous. She took a step forward and placed a hand on his cheek. Using the other hand to lower his hand that was connected to his lip down to his side. His slight stubble scratching at the inside of her palm. Floyd took a deep breath and stared at his lover. 

  "Floyd, I got this. I promise you I'll make it out of there fine and dandy," she smiled. Floyd smiled down at her, feeling his anxiety only melt away slightly. Not fully. But he believed in Y/N, more than anything. Y/N pressed her lips against Floyd's softly before reached down and holding his hand softly. Pulling away to happily see Floyd's goofy grin. "Now, wanna go make out for a bit before we have to head out?" she asked, giggling slightly. Already pulling him along to their bunking area. 

  "Of course I do! What kind of question is that?"

///

  The group of Troopers edged along the edge of town, hidden by the darkness of the night. With Captain Speirs leading them forward. He held his hand up, signalling the group of Troopers to come to a halt. He looked back and turned his body towards them. "Y/N, are you ready?" he whispered. Y/N popped up and nodded. They went over this process hundreds of times. She knew what she needed to do better than anyone right now. But she was still so nervous. Something so small could change everything. Her mind quickly flooded with the patrol with Jackson, his own grenade brought his painful demise. Y/N tried to blink back the thoughts and only think of the positive. Just getting the mission done and get in and out. But the memories always itched their way in. 

  She took off her helmet, tossing her rifle to the side along with her heavier jacket. The men sat there watching her, confused on why the woman was discarding the equipment that would protect her. Especially Talbert, who already began pulling on his lower lip watching the trooper. 

  "Hey, doll. Don't you need all that stuff?" asked Tab, his voice shaking slightly with worry. Y/N looked at  him chuckled softly. She dropped her head down then looked back up at him. 

  "Without that stuff, I'm less noticeable. I can sneak around quieter and I can get in and out of places without being seen," she answered as she stood. Looking at her Captain and giving him a nod. Which he reciprocated. Y/N turned as gave a sincere look at her boyfriend who sat in a ball of nerves. And quickly she was off, hiding in the shadows and coming up to the large house's back wall. Pressing her back against the bridge surface. 

  A hand came down on Talbert's shoulder. Peeling him out of tunnel focused mind and turning his head toward the person's hand. It was Shifty. One of his closest friend within the company. "Don't worry bud, she's got this. We all know it," he reassured, even with his voice at a whisper, he could hear the faith in his voice. Floyd's focus went right back on his woman, who was now creeping along the wall and stopping at the window. His breath hitched as he saw a German soldier standing right in the window. The window was open, so if she made any noise that was loud enough to draw attention, she would be compromised. 

  "Sure maybe we should-" Liebgott began, but quickly he stopped as the men watched the woman yank the German right out the window, covering his mouth and drilling her knife into the side of his neck. Puncturing the artery. Keeping his mouth covered until he died. The men looked in shock. Not ever seeing a woman do something as barbaric. Well, it was clear enough that Y/N L/N wasn't just any other woman. Christ, she was the first female Paratrooper ever. Joe just clamped his mouth shut while the Captain chuckled. 

  Y/N climbed into the window, dropping quietly into the house and crouch walking behind a small pile of crates. She stayed still and silent, listening to hear if there was any sounds of boots or voices within the room. When she heard none, a short and quiet sigh of relief escaped her lips as she stood slowly. Looking around the room quickly but closely. Spotting a desk and making her way over there. She bent down and looked at the papers that scattered it. Y/N huffed as she tried reading the papers, but unlike Webster and Liebgott, she had no idea how idea how to read German. 

  As soon, as she picked up another piece of paper, she heard a set of footsteps coming down the stairs. "Leutnant, sind Sie da unten? Wir müssen einige Dinge besprechen," (Lieutenant, are you down there? We must discuss some things.) the voice boomed. Y/N cursed under her breath when she shoved the papers deep into her pocket and looked around. The German already reached the floor before she could hide. Making direct eye contact with the woman, her blood running cold. "Amerikanisch! Amerikanisch!" (American! American!) he started shouting aiming his weapon. And the female took this as a point that these papers are by far enough, she must've grabbed at least ten or more papers. She took off towards the window, hearing the loud gun shots hit the wall next to her ran, jumping out the window. The sound of more three more Krauts coming into the room, already firing their weapons. 

  Y/N's boots hit the deck and shook took off into the side of the building. Going straight towards the dark patch and little dip valley between the road and field. Talbert and the rest of the men sat there. Listening to the gun fire and shouting. Watching as the Germans looked out the window. He began to hyperventilate, they didn't see the woman leave, but they definitely heard the shots. "No, no, no!" he tried to stand, but Speirs yanked him right back down. Looking at him. 

  Meanwhile, Y/N was edging her way along the ditch. Pressing her hand to the stinging wound from a bullet skimming her right arm. She pressed on, trying not to alert any of the Krauts that were now starting swarm outside of the building. She saw a small opening where she could make it if she ran as fast as she could. Y/N stood up, seeing her target of her men, starting to inch their way back. She pressed her lips together and taking off. Pushing herself harder than she ever had in her life, her legs burning as she sprinted. 

  Thankfully, she made it to the group of men, dropping down besides them. They all quickly aimed their weapons at her. "Flash!" Speirs spoked. Y/N put her hands up and smiled slightly. 

  "Thunder," she responded. Floyd scrambled to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Squeezing her hard. Y/N squeaked a little bit. "Alright, Tab. I missed you too but I'm wounded, and you're kind of squeezing the wound." Talbert pulled away quickly, scanning over her body for the injuries. Y/N went and grabbed his left hand, which was pulling on his lip still. "Babe, a bullet just skimmed me. I'm fine. I got the information needed in these papers. I just need to get Doc to patch me up and I'm fine," the trooper reassured. Floyd nodded, pursing his lips as he handed the woman her helmet, jacket, and rifle. She smiled as they began to walk back with a purpose. Not wanting to attract the Germans that were now circling the area.

///

   The small group of Paratroopers entered the building that Lipton, Nixon, and Winters were in. The three men looked at the group, Y/N smiled as she walked over. Pulling out the folded papers out of her pocket and handing them to Winters. "There should be about ten papers, they looked important. They were all I could get, they might have a little bit blood on them," she chuckled as the officer took the papers and unfolded them. Looking through the small stack. He looked up at the female with a smile. But his eyes quickly followed to the wound that was placed on the side of her arm.

  "Great job Y/N, but that wound on your arm looks pretty nasty. Talbert take her to Doc while Liebgott deciphers these papers. Everyone else, go get some rest. You guys need it," The officer ordered. Everyone nodded and went there separate ways. Whilst Floyd practically dragged Y/N to wherever Doc was set up. 

///

  When the two got back to their bunking area after Y/N got finished getting fixed up, she was busy carefully peeling off her bloody service shirt and tossing it to the side. Poor Floyd was now pacing back and forth. Stuck in his mind that one little thing could of happened and could've changed everything. Like Y/N could of stumbled slightly and the shot that skimmed her arm could have been fatal. That maybe if she wasn't as close as she was to the window, that maybe they could have shot her dead right there. Or even worse, made her a prisoner of war. And just the thought of him not being able to do anything to help his only real thing to fight for in this war. That he could've lost her so fast, and might not even be able to get her body. He felt his stomach turn and his blood go cold. Running a hand through his thick hair and pulling at the ends. Using his other hand to bring it back up to his bottom lip, pulling on his some more. His lips now slightly red and swollen from the amount of times he had been fidgeting with it.

  Y/N stood there and sighed, tilting her head to her the side slightly. Observing her boyfriend's actions for a second. She walked up to him slowly. Putting a hand on his shoulder and turning him towards her. Getting him to stop pacinng. He looked down at her, where she just had a soft smile on her face as she gently took his hand out of his hair and into her own hand. Whilst she took the hand that was connected to his lower lip and placed it on her waist. Using her free hand to cup his cheek and pull him down to gently place her lips onto his.

  Floyd immediately melted against the woman kiss. Intertwining his fingers with on of her hands with gripping her waist a little tighter with the other. Closing his eyes as he just melted into the touch of his woman. Feeling better as his realized that Y/N was safe, that nothing bad truly did happen. That she was alive and living another day with him. She was real, alive, and all those scenarios that he played over in his head didn't happen and won't happen.

  Y/N pulled away from his lips slowly. "Feel better?" she asked with the same smile she won him over with. He chuckled and put his other hand on her waist and swooped her up. She laughed and threw her head back as he carried her to the bed, sat down and placed her on his lap.

  "After this war Y/N, I'm taking you home, putting the biggest ring on that finger and having a the biggest wedding. And I'm going to get you the best house and start a family with you," he preached. Placing his lips back on hers. Y/N smiled against Floyd's lips.

  "Floyd Talbert, I'm going to hold you to it. And babe, you have to stop pulling on your lip! It's getting all swollen! I won't be able to kiss you if you keep at it," she giggled. Floyd dipped his head into the crook of Y/N's neck and started placing small kisses on the surface of her skin. Humming softly on her skin. She giggled as the sensation tickled. 

  "I know, doll, I know. I just can't help it. Now hush up and cuddle with me so we can sleep. You need some rest," he pulled her down onto the bed and snuggled into her. She wiggled closer to his chest wrapping her arms tightly around his torso, their legs entangled. 

  "Floyd, I love you," Y/N exhaled, closer her eyes. Tab kissed her forehead softly and buried his nose into her hair. Smiling softly as the weight of his tired eyelids took over.

  "I love you too, doll," But Y/N was already asleep. Her soft snores could already be heard. Floyd chuckled and just pulling the blanket up over them. Being careful not to touch or hurt her wrapped arm. 

   "I love you more than you would ever know."

[hiuythn]

sorry to ask, but i saw u shared hc for the sick anon, im going thru a rough patch and ur fic rly cheered me up. Can i get some hcs as well?

this is how keith asks lance to marry him:

so we all know how from the beginning, from the moment things got resolved at the end of tnahp, that keith’s been upfront about never leaving lance. everyone knows he’s going to put a ring on that. he’s said it to lance’s face. “what else am i gonna do with you?”

it’s not until six years later that he actually does anything though. mostly bc of the war and the aftermath.

the team are in a meeting with the coalition, boring stuff, routine stuff, and the mind link is closed, bc sometimes keith and lance need breaks. he’s lucky that it was, though, because what happens next in his mind would’ve been enough to make lance fall out of his seat and ruin the meeting and coran would’ve killed them both lmao

lance is paying attention even though he looks just as bored as keith. diligent, as always. he’s even got a holoscreen projected, taking lazy notes. there are faint little sketches of the coalition members and the team. one is of shiro, snoring, comical Zs above his head. keith bites down on his cheek.

lance is twirling the pen in his left hand.

keith looks at that and thinks, loud and clear, there should be a ring on his finger.

he sits back.

huh.

it should be a surprise, he decides after a quiet minute. lance deserves that. it should be at the right moment, the right words, the right place. it should be soft and genuine and such a sweet shock that it takes lance seconds to reply. it should make his blue eyes fill with tears, it should make him curl into a ball before keith, who’ll still be kneeling, ring box open and laughing at him because wow, that’s nice reaction, lance. it should be a proposal so perfect that it makes lance kind of mad, makes him shove keith, makes him pout that frustrated-loving-happy pout.

(bros, as a gay, this is kind of really fucking gay)

keith spends the rest of the meeting laying out proposal plans. lance gets exasperated when he finds out keith remembers nothing of the meeting. “dude, you--tell me again, who’s the leader of voltron, here?” “it’s allura.” “....okay, but who flies bl--”

and some people might ask, what’s the point, if you’re already levertan-married? if you’ve mind-linked and basically achieved the pinnacle of ‘joining hands in holy matrimony’?

keith’s answer would probably be something like ‘fuck off, i love him that’s why’

(ngl that’s hella romantic. no? just me?)

the long answer is that he knows lance is a romantic. that he really likes gestures of affection, that his face gets all rosy and he always tries to bite back his smiles, and he gets so pleased and flustered and also adorably angry every time keith does anything for him. keith’s in love with that. he goes absolutely dumb over making lance happy, he’s fucking obsessed with it. every neuron in keith’s stupid head is devoted to lance like 24/7.

(it’s a given that lance is the same, if not worse. how tf do they get anything done?)

plus, levertan-married doesn’t really mean the same as human-married.

so keith--somehow--manages to pull off thinking up proposal plans without closing the link, without lance knowing--maybe bc his thoughts are purposefully fragmented like ‘white chocolate? milk?’ or ‘speakers? mic?’ or ‘beach sand feels sandy’ and yes it sounds absolutely dumb but it’s clever because after a while lance tunes it out. though, at the beginning, it really fucking worried him because it sounded like keith was having a stroke LMAO

over the next couple months, keith steadily puts his plan together: get the ring, figure out what to say, speak to allura about detouring to earth for some r&r, speak to shiro about not fucking things up for keith because i know you’ll do that somehow shiro no are you serious of course you would you’re evil do you even remember that time i said no to inviting people for my fourteenth birthday and you did it anyway even though i was looking forward to just playing video games for the whole day??? i had to deal with james griffin in my goddamn house you ass--

the day keith asks, everything--surprisingly--goes really well? like suspiciously so. like keith’s really glad but he’s itching to reach for his knife by the end of it, bc he was prepared for shiro to have done sth by now. 

but nah, keith and lance have a lovely day hanging out, doing activities keith planned and things lance spontaneously suggests. the weather is a perfect breezy, sunny day. when the sun sets they wordlessly head for the beach. lance chases keith though the surf. they throw clumps of wet sand at each other. keith hoists lance in his arms, listening to him yell as keith spins them around. lance picks him up and tosses him into the shallows, that fucking jerk. lance gets keith to forgive him. lance gives keith his shirt, goes half-naked for keith’s shivering form. ‘i’m going to get a cold,’ lance says. ‘and i’m not?’ keith snorts. they walk down the beach and lance tells him stories, pointing to this rock or that spot and saying oh i broke my arm there or dude i saved a baby turtle from a seagull that day and keith soaks it all up like he’s the sand and lance is the ocean waves, coming back to him every time.

lance hops onto a rock, demonstrating to keith how he used to pretend he was a sea prince looking for mermaids. the winds play with his hair, the setting sun brushing golden against his bare chest and the grin on his lips. like this, he’s a foot or two taller than keith.

keith gets down on one knee.

it’s lance’s fault that the ring box is damp, but he’s lucky this thing is olkari-made, because when keith opens it up, the ring shines just as bright as lance. almost as bright. it tries its best but keith really only has eyes for his soulmate.

keith says:

every day, i want to choose you. every day, i want to get to choose you. every day, growing up like i did, was spent learning what i needed to live, what food or drink or mantra was needed to make it another day alone. my body forced to me to focus on its needs, on the bare essentials. if i went a month without a caring touch, it didn’t matter, because it hadn’t killed me yet.

before i fell for you, i don’t think i knew what it meant to want. i never had a chance to think about it, a second to indulge. if i wanted a home, a family, it was a weakness, a distraction, and i couldn’t let myself admit it. so i never learned to want.

the only other thing that comes closest to what i feel for you is probably flying. it’s that addiction to diving through the clouds, it’s free-falling, it’s soaring with my heart in my throat. and even then, even now that i know you, it doesn’t quite compare. it’s a poor substitute.

in this world we exist in, where some force out there knows exactly what we need, who we need, it’s kind of a miracle that i still got to choose you. i’m glad i got the moments where it hurt to think of you, because i wanted you so bad i couldn’t stand not having you. i’m glad i got to slowly realize that you were everything to me, on my own time. it was my own conclusion, my own resolution to love you because you were you, and not because you were someone i was supposed to love. the universe kind of tricked us, but i think she meant well.

and now i know, that even in a world where soulmates didn’t exist....i know i’d still want you.

i want to want you, every day. i want to wake up wanting you, every day, fall asleep wanting you every night. i want to leave for missions wanting you, want to stay behind watching you go, wanting you to return faster than you can. i want you to want me, too. i want a ring on our fingers, reminding me that you do, that you feel the same and you always will.

i want to marry you, lance mcclain.

will you marry me?

[tasteofswallowedwords]

The Perfect Shot

Part Five

Pairing: Jughead x reader

Warnings: violence, swearing, angst

Summary: the reader has a bad time and it gets progressively worse ngl

A/N: I’m bad at summaries I apologise

Part One

It was not supposed to end like this: tied up in an abandoned building, dust stinging my eyes and something most definitely crawling up my leg. Wait, what’s that I see flushing itself down the toilet? Oh yeah, that would me my hopes and dreams for the future. Pretty sure they don’t accept corpses to college. A scholarship is no good to my dead ass. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to them. I knew Jughead Jones would do nothing but get me into trouble.

Yet here I am, wrists bound behind my back, about to be murdered by a biker gang.

“What are you doing here?” a bearded man asks, crouching so that he is uncomfortably close to my face. He seems to be in charge, as the rest of the gang stand crowded behind him.

“Looking for a bathroom?”

He grabs the collar of my jacket with both hands and pulls me closer to his face, lifting my butt right off the ground. “Do I look like the kind of guy you can joke with, kid?”

“No, sir,” I blurt, shaking my head. “My sarcasm comes out in full force when I’m afraid. Also,” I add, “I don’t need the bathroom anymore.”

That earns a few chuckles from the back of the room. The man drops me back to the ground.

“I’ll ask you one more time. What are you doing here?”

“I was taking pictures for a school project,” I say, glancing at the huge man in the leather vest who is inspecting my camera.

“These are pretty good,” Leather Vest comments.

“You really think so?” I ask. “I should’ve brought more lighting equipment. The flash kind of distorts-”

“Shut up,” the bearded man says emphatically. “Why here? Why tonight?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Because this is the only abandoned building in town that I know of, and I had nothing else to do?”

“Well, it’s unfortunate that you picked tonight, kid,” he sighs, genuinely sympathetic.

“I feel like ‘unfortunate’ is an understatement,” I mutter, pulling against the restraints on my wrists. “Here’s a wild idea, hear me out: you could just… let me go.”

He erupts in fits of laughter. “Is that so?” he wheezes.

“Yup,” I nod. “I’ll go home, no one has to know.”

“Really? Because your parents have already noticed that you’re missing,” he says, holding my phone up in front of my face to display several worried texts and missed-calls from my mother.

I gulp. Of course she’d get off work early while I’m being kidnapped by a biker gang. Of course she would.

“She knows I’m here,” I lie. “So do my friends. They’ll come looking for me.”

“Oh no,” he says melodramatically. “We have to run boys! Before the soccer mom gets here!”

His gang chuckle, but some of them look uneasy. They don’t want to kill me.

“If you let me go now, I’ll say I got lost in the woods,” I say desperately. “I’ll tell them I thought I could take a shortcut home, but it got dark and I couldn’t find the path.”

“That sounds good enough,” a man in a leather jacket says, stepping out from the crowd.

“Shut it, FP,” the bearded man spits. “How do we know she won’t go straight to the police?”

“Because I’m not an idiot?” I say incredulously. He glares at me, fury in his eyes and I lean back, breath catching in my throat. “I mean, what would I tell them? I have no proof you guys were here, and no proof that you’re even doing anything illegal – besides kidnapping me, but we can forget about that for a second. I have no idea what you guys are up to out here. For all I know, this could be a barbecue… a barbecue with a distinct lack of meat… and grills… This is a really shitty barbecue,” I finish rambling, meeting the bearded man’s gaze.

“She’s scared, Jack,” the man called FP interjects. “She won’t say a word. Look at her.”

“There’s only one way we can be sure she never talks,” Jack says, ignoring FP.

“I could pinky swear?” I offer.

He tilts his head at me in a way that looks like he’s contemplating bashing my face in and now is not the time for jokes dear God I need to shut the hell up.

I take in a shaky breath. “What are you gonna do, kill me?” I ask, heart beating so hard I’m sure the whole room can hear it. “I can promise you, I won’t go quietly. My entire life has been one big mess; I imagine my death will be the same. Defensive wounds, scratching, biting – it’d be a DNA goldmine. And then what would you do with my body? Dump it in the river? That’s a tad unoriginal, don’t you think?”

“She’s got a point,” Leather Vest concludes.

“She’s fucking annoying,” Jack retorts.

“If you think I’m annoying now,” I begin, “imagine what my ghost would be like. And you can bet your ass I’ll haunt my murderer, I can be incredibly spiteful when I want to be.”

“Jack,” FP interjects again, “she’s got nothing on us. And you don’t need her blood on your hands.”

“Fine,” Jack sighs, getting up to retrieve my camera from Leather Vest. He looks at it absentmindedly, frowning slightly. “But you understand what would happen if you told anyone about this little exchange.”

“I understand,” I say quietly, wanting desperately to reach out and take the camera from him, but the restraints won’t budge.

“We’ll have to keep an eye on you, make sure you aren’t talking to the wrong people.”

I furrow my brows, dreading what he’s going to say next.

“Slater,” he calls gruffly. There’s some shuffling, and a kid about my age steps out from behind FP. His blond hair is tousled, and his sneer is repulsive. “Get a good look at this one. You’re her new babysitter.”

I swallow the urge to protest, knowing it’ll only make him angry. I’m itching to leave. And itching literally because I’m pretty sure this place is cockroach-infested and I feel something crawling across my back.

“You make one false move, (Y/N),” he says deliberately, “and Slater will report it back to me. I won’t come for you. I’ll come for everyone you care about. I will end them all, and make you watch.”

“Is that, like, a kink of yours, or…”

He clenches his teeth and glares at me, nostrils flared over his moustache. I look from his furious eyes to the camera in his hands, and my chest constricts. The world is absent of sound as he hurls my camera to the ground. It seems to fall in slow motion and I lunge for it, knowing I can’t catch it but desperate to try. It hits the ground with a sickening crack, tiny pieces splintering off in every direction, the lens falling out of the body completely.

I let out a strangled sob, staring at my shattered future on the floor. Tears form, but they don’t have time to fall, as Jack lunges at me. He swings some object I can’t quite see at me, cracking me on the head with it. The pain explodes in my skull for a split second.

Then the world is black.

  My eyelids flutter open, and I have approximately one millisecond of bliss before my head begins to throb. I wince in agony. My entire skull feels swollen and heavy, the pain alternating between dull and sharp in time with my pulse. I sit up slowly, battling a wave of dizziness as my eyes adjust to the darkness. Trees. Everywhere. Why am I lying in the middle of the woods?

The pain in my head becomes so immense I almost fall back to the ground. I clench my fist around a clump of wet leaves, squeezing my eyes shut as I wait for it to subside. It relents, and I try to get my bearings. What was I doing all the way out here?

I glance down at myself, checking for other injuries. My wrists are red and rubbed raw. The moonlight glances off something hiding amongst the leaves beside me. I pick it up, and recognise my camera, broken and irreparable. The memories from the evening flood back to me in a torrent. My heart breaks anew.

I tuck what is left of my camera into my backpack and stand slowly, easing the strap onto my shoulder. Every part of my body aches from the fall I took earlier. A car rumbles past, not too far away from where I stand in the tree cover. At least they had the decency to dump me near the road.

I shuffle out of the woods to stand by the roadside, hoping someone will drive by. A car pulls up a few minutes later, a concerned face peering at me through the window.

“Oh my God,” the man says, climbing out of his car. He rushes over to me, hands out as if he’s expecting me to collapse right in front of him. He’s middle aged, wearing a cap and a plaid shirt. “Oh God,” he says again. “What happened to you? Do you want to go to the hospital?”

I must look confused, because he says, “Your head. It’s bleeding.”

I touch a fingertip to my temple and wince as it makes contact. It comes away bloody. “Oh,” I manage, but I don’t know what else to say.

“Let’s get you to a hospital,” he says gently, guiding me to the passenger seat.

He doesn’t ask any questions. I can’t speak anyway, I just stare through the window, eyes glazed over. My mind assaults me with memories: the sneering boy, Jack’s face as he hit me, the back of Jughead’s beanie as he turned and left.

The man kindly walks me into the hospital, and speaks to the woman behind the desk because mentally I’m still in a dark, dusty room being interrogated by criminals. The woman tells the man he can go, bringing me back to reality.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, eyes crinkling in a sad smile. “Take care of yourself.”

A doctor appears and batters me with questions as I get patched up by a nurse with gentle hands. I’m decidedly uncooperative. That doesn’t discourage him, however.

“Should we call the police?”

“No,” I say, staring off into the distance. “I fell. It was an accident.”

“Are you sure, Miss (Y/L/N)? That’s a nasty head wound. Just looking at it, I’d think someone might’ve hit you with something.”

I laugh flatly, brushing him off. “The ground hit me with a rock, if that’s what you mean.”

He sighs, clearly sceptical, but unable to do anything about it. He does, however, call my parents. Explaining to them what I was doing in the woods at midnight is going to be a hoot and a half.

When my mother arrives, I give her the Southside Serpents-approved excuse. She’s unconvinced.

“The woods, (Y/N)? In the dark? What were you thinking?”

“It wasn’t dark when I got there.”

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” she asks, cupping my face in her hands.

“I was kind of… unconscious.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she says, pulling me in for a hug. When she leans away, there are tears in her eyes. “Let’s get you home.”

I half expect Jughead to be asleep in my room when I get home, but the bed is empty. His bag is gone, too.

I don’t have the energy to change, so I just peel my jeans off and crawl into bed. I close my eyes, seeing Slater’s snarling face, and my pulse races. My eyes shoot open and stay that way until my alarm goes off for school.

  “Take the day off,” my mother urges me. “You have a concussion, (Y/N).”

“I know. But I can’t. Scholarship, remember?”

That’s an invalid excuse. No camera; no scholarship. But she doesn’t know about the camera. I have a feeling Slater will be keeping a close eye on me, and I don’t want him anywhere near this house. The best way to avoid that is to go to school.

Her face is pained, her eyes flitting between mine and the bandage at my temple. “Your health is more important-”

“I’m fine.”

“You look tired.”

“Gee, thanks,” I mumble, turning and walking out the door. She’s right: I am tired. I can barely keep my eyes open. The last look I got in the mirror showed a strange, sickly girl with a bandage on her head and blue crescents under her eyes. She looked like death.

I suffer through the morning and successfully make it to lunch without bumping into Betty or Jughead. I go to the cafeteria, hoping that they’re eating lunch in the Blue and Gold office. No such luck. As I’m searching for a table, Jughead catches my eye across the room. His eyes widen as he takes in my bandage, worry creasing his forehead. I can’t lie to him – he’ll see right through it. So I’ll just have to avoid him. I grip my tray tighter, lowering my gaze and walking purposefully to an empty table. 

I sit, shooting a quick glance in Jughead’s direction. Shit. He’s getting up. He’s walking over.

“(Y/N),” he says worriedly. “Come sit with us.”

I stare at my hands as they fidget beneath the table. “I’m good here,” I say quietly.

He scoffs. “Then I’ll sit-”

“Hey, (Y/N).”

I look up to the seat across from me. Slater. I want to take my tray and whack the disgusting grin right off his face.

Jughead looks at him, lip curled. “You know this guy?” he asks me, without looking in my direction.

Slater looks at me expectantly. This might be the concussion talking, but I want to throw up.

“Yeah,” I say half-heartedly. “This is… my friend. Slater.”

“Friend?” Jughead sneers.

“Yes,” Slater says hatefully. “We’re friends, jackass. And if you don’t mind, we’d like to eat lunch together.”

Jughead stares at me, searching my face for an explanation, giving me one last chance to go with him. I wrench my eyes away from him, back to my lunch. When I look up a few moments later, he’s gone.

  Betty slides a note me in chemistry:

 Blue and Gold Offices. Next Period.

 She gives me a hard look, as if she’s daring me to challenge her. I don’t. I have to face them sooner or later. It’s better to do it in private, somewhere Slater won’t be watching.

When the bell rings, I rush from class, checking the corridor for the Serpent. I race to the office, throwing a quick glance behind me to make sure I’m not being followed, then duck into the classroom. I sit on a desk, rehearsing my lie until the other two arrive.

“What the hell happened to you?” Jughead says angrily, storming towards me.

Be calm. Be casual.

“What do you mean?” I shrug.

His face contorts with rage. Perhaps that was slightly too casual.

“What happened after we left, (Y/N)? Cut the bullshit,” he spits.

Betty puts a calming hand on his arm, pushing him away from me slightly. “We’re just concerned,” she says encouragingly.

I stare at my hands. “I left shortly after you did,” I supply. “I thought I could take a shortcut through the woods, but it was dark, and I got lost. I fell, hit my head on a rock. I woke up a few hours later.”

“How dumb do you think we are?” Jughead yells. “Do you really expect us to believe that?”

“It’s true,” I say, though I can’t even commit to the lie at this point.

“Yeah,” he says sarcastically. “And I’m the Queen of England.”

Betty glares at him pointedly. “What really happened when we left, (Y/N)? Who else was in that room?”

“Oh that,” I say casually, even throwing in a laugh. “That was just a raccoon.”

“A raccoon that could speak English?” Jughead roars.

I’ve never seen anyone so angry in my life. His entire face is red, nostrils flared, he’s practically shaking with rage.

“So this is where you’re hiding,” sneers a voice from the door. I whip my head around to find Slater, leaning against the door frame. “Got a minute, (Y/N)?” My stomach churns.

“She’s a little busy,” Jughead spits back.

“I think she has time for this,” Slater retorts. The two boys lock eyes with each other, neither attempting to hide the animosity from their features.

I slide off the desk. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Jughead grabs me by the arm. “You aren’t leaving.”

I look up at him sadly. There’s no more anger in his eyes, just concern. “I have to go,” I say, and it comes out a whisper.

Betty pulls him back, and I follow Slater out of the room. We’re halfway down the corridor when he slams me up against a locker, knocking all the air from my body.

“You’re not holding up your end of the bargain, (Y/N),” he spits, inches from my face.

“I lied to them,” I snarl back. “I did what Jack wanted.”

“You didn’t do a very good job. They don’t believe you.”

“I’m a photographer, not Meryl fucking Streep.”

He laughs, his breath breezing across my face. Glancing to the side, he says, “Looks like we’ve got an audience.”

I cast my gaze down the corridor and see Jughead and Betty standing in the middle of the hall, staring. Jughead’s jaw is clenched, hands forming tight fists at his sides. Betty looks like she just watched me kick a baby.

“The least we can do is give them a show,” Slater continues. I turn to give him a questioning look and his lips crash into mine. I squeeze my eyes shut in disgust, my head pressing further into the lockers in an attempt to get away from him. I push against his chest, but he’s too strong.

He finally releases me, and I look desperately to Jughead for help, but he’s storming down the corridor in the other direction.

“Oops,” Slater shrugs, and slinks off.

I try to console myself as Jughead disappears around the corner. Sure, he hates me now more than ever, but it’s probably for the best. At least now he’ll stop pressing me for answers. He’s safer. Betty is, too.

However, these thoughts do nothing to quell the sickness in my stomach, or dissuade the feeling that things are about to get a lot worse for all of us.

Part Six

A/N pt 2: I felt a lot of pressure writing this. I kind of suddenly gained followers and I want you to enjoy what I write but I also have a plan for this series that may not be what some people expected. I hope you still enjoy it, even if it’s more angst than fluff. If you want to see me write something more light-hearted, feel free to request!

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