#there's one more where the shed door closes on reggie and opens on him but that one's boring so have the rest!

[youmagnificentbeast]

Taskmaster US - Alex's Ad Break Interstitials

[unholyobsessions]

Story of Another Us

Pairing: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader

Description: After Julie finds a song Luke wrote about you, he reminisces on his moments with you

A/N: The song Luke wrote is Story of Another Us by 5 Seconds of Summer i highly recommend listening to it

Warnings: Cussing

Word count: 1.7k

Part 2

Julie is a curious person by nature, nobody can deny that. So when Luke gave her his journal and told her to look at all the dog eared songs, she couldn’t stop herself from reading them all. When she got to the last song in the journal she hesitated. It was not dog eared and looked to be the newest written. Most words were crossed out and corrections were written between the margins, she turned the page to find the final version of the song, written coherently. She raised her brows at the wet spots that stained some of the words. She read through it, her own eyes tearing up and threatening to smudge the beautiful lyrics composed by her lead guitarist.

The faint pop Julie has grown to recognize startles her. She meets Luke’s eyes and tries to flip the notebook back to another page but he catches sight of it before she can.

He stays quiet for a second and Julie bites her lip in anticipation.

“What is it that you always say Jules? Boundaries?” The look in his eyes is a mixture of anger, betrayal, and pure sadness, and it breaks Julie’s heart.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. She doesn’t know what else to say and ultimately decides to risk asking the question that is on the forefront of her mind. “Luke, who is the song about?”

He sighs and takes a sit next to her on the bed, there’s no point in lying to her. “My girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Julie asks, both confused and surprised.

“Yeah ex-girlfriend I guess. We uh dated back in the 90s,” a sad smile on his face as he spoke. “She was there the night of the concert but she hated hotdogs so she stayed back with Bobby at the Orpheum. I didn’t want to think about her when we first came back but last week I looked her up and I went to see her. She has a family, married, children everything that we talked about having together.” Tears were falling down his face and Julie wanted nothing more than to be able to hug him.

“I-“ she started but what was she supposed to say? Luke shook his head, not finished talking.

“Her youngest son, his name is-“ he pressed a fist against his mouth, biting back a sob. “She named him Luke.” It’s something that took him by surprise when he heard her call his name. For a second he thought she meant him, but then he saw the cute nine-year-old dashing into the room, smiling brightly at his mother.

“Oh.”

“And I am so happy for her but I just, I guess I finally realized just how much I lost that night.” He finally turned his head and made eye contact with Julie.

“Tell me about her,” she said. Luke’s eyes widened, not expecting that to be her response. He regained his composure and nodded his head, thinking back to the moments you shared together.

. . .

You’re sitting on the couch, waiting for the boys to get back to the studio after playing at the pier for change. You actually had school and therefore could not go and watch them but you have the rest of the day off and decided to spend it with your favorite people.

The loud, excited voice of your boyfriend breaks you from your thoughts. He pushes the door of the garage turned studio open and smiles when he spots you. He rushes to the couch and throws himself on top of you. You grunt and try to push him off, which only causes him to hold you tighter.

“Get off me you doofus. You’re sweaty and gross,” you exclaim. He looks at you in mock hurt and you use his surprise to your advantage and push him off the couch. You sit up and wave at the rest of the guys.

Bobby smiles and shakes his head walking forward to ruffle your hair. Alex and Reggie make it seem like they will throw themselves on top of you too and you scream, raising your arms over your head in defense, making everyone laugh. You stick your tongue out at them and look down at your boyfriend still laying on the floor.

“How was your physics test?” He asks, remembering last night’s mental breakdown about you not understanding anything. He always felt useless in those situations, never having taken physics himself after dropping out, so he couldn’t help you study. He normally just holds you close and hopes you stop crying, because regardless of what Alex says, he would never leave you to cry alone.

“Meh, pretty sure I passed but I never know.” You shrug your shoulders dismissing any thoughts of your grades.

Bobby laughs and points an accusatory finger at you, “You always say that and you always end up being the highest score. Don’t give us that ‘meh’ bullshit.”

You throw a pillow at him but he easily catches it and throws it at Reggie, who gets hit in the head. Reggie complains and both you and Bobby chuckle at his inconvenience.

Luke finally gets up from the floor and sits next to you on the couch, pulling your body to lean against his. You’re used to this proximity, realizing early in your relationship that Luke is a very touchy person and has to have physical contact with someone at all times.

You smile and look up to him, asking how the performance at the pier went. He excitedly goes on about how people complemented them and how he knows that they are on their way to becoming big and you can’t help but agree. If there is one thing you know is that Sunset Curve is on their way to greatness.

. . .

“She believed in me, in all of us. Every second of spare time she had, she spent helping us get gigs. She would even sit on that old coach while we practiced and do her homework.”

Julie smiled at the way his eyes lit up. “She sounds amazing. Though I am surprised she was able to concentrate with you guys playing.”

Luke laughs and shakes his head. “She was not. She would yell at us and blame us if she didn’t do well on a test, but we always convinced her to stay when she tried to leave.”

. . .

You tried to block out the loud playing of instruments as you read Lord of the Flies for your english class. You snap the book shut and let out a frustrated sigh standing up abruptly and making your way out the door.

Luke stops singing and slips his guitar off before rushing over to you.

“Hey where are you going?” Luke asks a little breathless, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his body still full of adrenaline.

“I can’t concentrate,” you reply. “I’m pretty sure I have a test on the first four chapters tomorrow.” You look up to find him pouting adorably at you. You roll your eyes and try to leave again but he grabs your arm.

“We’re almost done. Let us just finish this song and then we were all just going to write. Just don’t leave.” His eyes are pleading with you and you know that you won’t decline. You let him lead you back to the couch and you sit down, reopening your book and trying to finish the chapters assigned.

Five minutes later the guys were all milling on different areas of the studio with a pen and an instrument, working on melodies as Luke works on lyrics on the floor in front of you leaning back against your legs. You run your hand absentmindedly through his hair as the other holds up the book.

The pager clipped to your jeans beeps and you glance down at it, your eyes widening when you see the message. You stand up quickly, dropping your book on Luke’s head in the process. You ignore the calls of pain and protest from your boyfriend as you run out of the shed and into the house. You greet Bobby’s mom and walk to the living room where the landline is at. You dial the number quickly and mumble “pick up” repeatedly under your breath. The club owner picks up and you talk for about fifteen minutes. At the end confirming a gig for Sunset Curve every Saturday this month at one of the hottest clubs in LA.

You scream with joy and run back to the studio yelling for their attention.

“Guess who just booked you guys a gig!” You exclaim, a joyous smile on your lips. The boys all jump up from their places around the room and rush to hug you but you raise your hands stopping them in their tracks. “Sunset Curve will be performing every Saturday this March at The Reserve!”

They all freeze, mouths opening in shock before they tackle you in a hug and jumping around in excitement. Luke pulls you close against him and kisses you desperately, trying to convey every emotion he is feeling at the moment. The guys cheer like they always do whenever Luke kisses you in front of them.

They all give you their thanks and a hug before Luke pulls you back to the couch, picking up his lyric journal and placing your hand back in his hair. The room is still buzzing with excitement but your force yourself to concentrate as you pick your book back up and continued reading.

. . .

Luke looks down at his hands, “She was the love of my life, quite literally, and I guess that now in my death I have to learn to live without her.”

Julie let her hand hover over his and if she concentrated hard enough she swears she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “It’s a beautiful song Luke and she sounds like she loved you very much. Just remember that getting over her doesn’t mean forgetting her.”

Luke smiles at his friend, thankful to have met her and have her be a part of his (after)life. He looks down at his journal, eyes skimming over the song. “Do you think,” he pauses. “Do you think it’s good enough to perform?”

Julie stares him like he’s insane. “Anything you write is good enough to perform, especially this song.” Luke turns away, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Thanks Jules.”

[rafecameron]

dancing on my own

request: Angst with no happy ending? How abt *insert actor/character* getting married and their ex (the reader) kinda 'forcing herself' to go to the wedding bc she really wants to see their mutual friends again but like doesn't wanna see the wedding. And reader just watching the love of their live get married and be happy with someone else and their heart silently being ripped apart? Too cruel?

pairing: ex!luke patterson x reader

word count: 2.1K

warnings: heartbreak, no happy ending

a/n: here you go cruel anon. turns out im not that great at heartbreak but hopefully this makes your heart crack a little bit. (also idk if people read authors notes but my requests are currently closed!) 

Y/N thought back on all the times she could have turned around. When she was getting into her car. When she reached the airport. When she queued to board the plane. When she checked into her hotel. When she began to get ready. Now she was facing the very last time she could turn around. Stood outside the venue, all dressed up with no one to walk her inside. But just like the times before, she didn’t turn around, she pushed on. Her heart breaking a little more with each step, she knew that surely by the end of the night there would be nothing left but crumbs. She had promised herself two things before this trip. Number one; she would not speak to him. Number two; she would not cry. She wasn’t entirely sure she would be able to keep either of the promises to herself, but repeating them in her head made her feel that little bit calmer.

She situated herself beside a table lined with drinks, helping herself to a flute of champagne. She was anxious for the doors to be opened so she could find a seat, somewhere in a corner at the back would suit her just fine. Out of sight of anyone who would surely recognise her, she had no intentions of engaging in conversation until the reception. But seeing as what was happening today she should have known it would be her unlucky day.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a voice speaks beside her and she turns, landing eyes on someone she had not seen for far too long. His suit was tailored perfectly to his body, his long hair tied in a bun at the back of his head. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” He pulls her into a hug.

“I wasn’t sure I would either,” she admits as she pulls away, “I wasn’t going to, but I wanted to see everyone...most people.”

Willie laughs softly, “I’m glad you’re here, sit beside me?” He asks, motioning with his head towards the doors that were being pulled open.

“Oh, I was just gonna sit in the back,” she stumbles over her words as Willie takes ahold of her hand, “Aren’t you going to sit with Alex?”

“He’s preoccupied.” Willie states simply, ignoring her protests as he pulls her towards the front of the room to take a seat in the front row.

She sighs as she sits down beside him. The sick feeling in her stomach growing as the room slowly became more and more full, people lining up on the benches and getting ready to watch the ceremony.

Willie reaches down and takes ahold of her hand again, giving it a light squeeze and offering a comforting smile, “You don’t have to stay.” He whispers.

“I do.” She nods, “I want to see everyone, I won’t stay all day but I need to at least say hello now I’m here.”

Willie nods his head, squeezing her hand one last time and patting her knees before turning back to face forward, the ceremony would be starting any minute and she found that her eyes were glued to the pattern on the floor.

For the entirety of the ceremony she didn’t look up. She didn’t want to risk meeting his eyes, didn’t want to see her friends sympathetic looks and definitely didn’t want to see the bride looking beautiful in her white dress. She tried her best not to listen, she couldn’t stomach hearing the vows and knew if she heard the words I do in his voice she’d cry. So she thought about anything else but what was happening in front of her.

She finally looked up when the couple was safely past her line of sight, eyes instantly meeting that of an old blonde friend. He gave her a wave, she was sure the smile was supposed to make her feel better but she just felt more pathetic. Why was she even here? She’s sure the invite was out of politeness and not an actual invitation to come. And if her friends were going to be tiptoeing around her and treating her like a porcelain doll she wasn’t sure she could cope. The nicer people were to her about this the more likely it was she would break down.

She didn’t want to think about it, about him, sure she was at his wedding but that didn’t mean this day had to be about him. She wanted to have a catch up with her friends, avoid her ex the whole night and then go back home, cry with a bottle of wine and forget this whole thing ever happened.

“I’m glad you came.” Alex says as he reaches her, pulling her into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too.” She responds truthfully, “Can we go to the reception? I think I need a drink already.”

Alex laughs, taking Willies hand in his own and leading the way towards the after party. The amount of people that were there she was sure she would be able to avoid the groom for the night. She found herself situated on a table with her friends, helping herself to a glass of wine and making sure the bottle was kept close to her.

No matter how excited she was to see her friends she found that now she was here she was finding it hard to hold a conversation. The group around her were still familiar with each other, still seeing each other and having things to talk about, she felt a little like a spare part. But still she smiled along and listened to their conversation. Something about a recent party they had attended where Reggie had drank a little too much, she laughed along with them unsure of what else to do. The more they spoke and tried to involve her in the conversation the more she realised she didn’t really know the people around her anymore. Sure she had good memories with them and she would always consider them her friends, but she didn’t really know them.

The best thing about weddings it that you can be invisible if you wanted to be. The bride and groom were always busy, everyone wanting to talk to them and congratulate them, and the drunker the guests got the easier it was to slip away from conversations and merely watch the scenes unfold. Which is exactly what she did. She watched her friends get drunk and progressively louder, not noticing anymore if she wasn’t joining in their conversation. If the night continued this way she was certain she would make it out in one piece.

She thought she was doing a pretty good job of avoiding the one person she feared seeing the most. But halfway through the night a hand landed on her shoulder and a familiar scent filled her nose. She felt her skin ignite where his fingers touched and she begged the butterflies in her stomach to go away, to fly away and disappear forever.

Turning in her seat she finally meets his eyes for the first time that night, forcing a smile onto her face as she stands up and allows him to pull her into a hug. Her heart hammers in her chest and she uses every ounce of will power within her to not shed any tears, she felt the epitome of pathetic. Wanting to cry at a wedding like she was in a bad romcom movie. Only if this were a movie she’d get the guy, or a second guy would come sweep her off her feet and make her forget the first one was ever there. She didn’t see that happening anytime soon.

“Thanks for coming.” Luke smiles, “You look great, that colour really suits you.”

She returns his smile with a tight lipped one of her own, “Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.” She attempts a light hearted laugh.

She looked away, she couldn’t stand looking into his eyes any longer, his gaze intense and stirring way too many different emotions inside of her. She wanted him to be horrible to her, to tell her to leave and never come back, not to tell her she looks great. How was she ever supposed to get over him when he was nothing but nice to her all the time. She wished he had done something at the end to allow her to hate him. Cheat on her maybe, or tell her he never loved her, then maybe she’d stand a tiny chance of getting over him and moving on with her life. Instead he was selfish and kept her at arms length because he knew he always could and that should have been enough for her to stay away, but she just couldn’t.

“Congratulations,” she looks back at him, eyes settling just above his to avoid his gaze, “You seem really happy, I wish you all the best.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and it’s genuine, something which breaks her heart a little more.

Of course she wants him to be happy, but a bigger part of her wants him to be happy with her and not anyone else. She knows that’s selfish, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to wish it into existence no matter how futile she knows it is.

“Have you met Jess?” He asks, placing a hand on her shoulder as though about to lead her somewhere.

“Oh, no I haven’t but she looks busy,” she quickly shrugs his hand off, the bride she could see from the corner of her eye, laughing at something another guest had said, “I’ll introduce myself later.” She lies.

The only thing she could think that would be worse than this wedding was having to actually meet the bride. To meet her replacement, the better version. The one who had stolen his heart and been worth enough to keep it forever. She forces a smile and excuses herself to the bathroom.

As she reaches the bathroom she can feel her eyes stinging, shutting herself in a cubicle she fans her face, determined not to let a single tear fall. She had made a promise to herself and the least she could do was keep it. She leant her head back against the door, letting out a shaky breath to compose herself.

Once she was sure she wouldn’t cry she exited the bathroom again, thankful to see that he was no longer at the table she had just ran from. She took her seat and no one asked where she had been or if she was okay, she was glad for that at least.

As the night wore on she thought she was doing okay, one little hiccup but no tears since, she’d even found herself genuinely laughing at a couple points. He’d spoken to her and she hadn’t thrown up on his shoes, he had no reason to try and speak to her again.

But then it was time for the first dance and she felt her chest tightening. Her calm composure being over taken by a sinking feeling of dread. She watched for a minute, watched him hold her close and smile. Watched him lean in to kiss her gently before spinning her under his arm and pulling her back in. She wished more than anything that it was her in his arms, her who he still looked at like the world shone behind her eyes. But it would never be her again, and his bride she was sure was far more beautiful than she could ever hope to be.

She watched as more dancers joined the floor, her friends among them. She tried to smile, but the sight was too much for her. Her friends laughing and dancing with their loved ones while she sat on the side lines and watched feeling like a stranger. The slow music a melancholy soundtrack to her emotions, reminding her of something she could never have.

She stands from the table, dragging her eyes over each person she knew, lingering on Luke for a moment longer before she turned and walked out of the room. She knew that this would be the last time she ever saw him, because she knew seeing him happy with someone else would be a slow form of torture. So she walked away, from him, from her friends forever, leaving whatever little pieces were left of her heart behind. By the time she exited the building she felt nothing more than a hollow shell and she finally let the tears fall.

tags: @lovesanimals @makebank @chrlsgillespie @crybabyddl @marinettepotterandplagg @caitsymichelle13 @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @alexpjoyner @meangirlsx

[thedeathdeelers]

Julie x Luke Fic

ok i did it

i finished the song inspired fic (my first attempt at writing Juke lols) (also my longest fic posted to date?? over 2k?? what)

find it here on my AO3, otherwise under the read more cut below :)

let me know what you think!

————

i’ll go wherever you will go

JULIE

Saturday morning found Julie wide awake tossing and turning at 7:30am. Which was odd to say the least, as Julie definitely enjoyed a good lie in just as much as the next person.

She tried to go back to sleep, snuggling in deeper under her covers, tucking her hands under her cheek, and even switching positions a few times.

But still nothing.

Finally giving up on sleep by 7:50am, Julie jumped out of bed, planning to head straight to the studio. Her mind had switched on the moment she first opened her eyes, whirling with lyrics and melodies for a new potential anthem.

So she slipped on her large bear claw slippers, and padded her way through the still quiet house, gently opening and shutting the front door behind her.

She slowly walked down the path to the studio, fully aware that the boys would not be back from whatever it is teenage ghosts who don’t sleep do all night.

Julie pushed passed the doors of her mom’s studio, leaving them ajar, hoping to let in the cool morning breeze. She headed straight for the couch, where lay Luke’s (and now hers as well, she supposed) songbook.

She plopped down, enjoying the worn out feel of the leather and the softened cushions, dragging the book over & onto her lap. Flipping it open, she rifled through the pages, humming quietly under her breath, looking at all of the recent songs she & Luke had written together. It was routine for her to do a little recap of their joint material before she reached the empty pages, where she would start on something new.

She was just about to flip past their latest work, paper crinkling under her fingers, when something fell out from between the pages, fluttering to the ground. She looked down, brows pulling together, to find a folded piece of paper on the floor next to her cladded feet.

Curious, and fully aware that she had only just held this notebook in her hands yesterday, Julie leaned forward over her knees and picked up the scrap of paper, and unfolded it.

It was in covered Luke’s familiar scratchy handwriting, covered in words and notes and melodies, just like the rest of their shared songbook (albeit looking slightly more organised). Scratching at her scalp in confusion, Julie brushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear as she brings the wrinkled paper closer for her to read.

But just before she does, she allows herself to breathe in deeply, eyes closing as the scent that is purely Luke invades her senses, enveloping her in a kind of warmth that vaguely reminds her of happy summers past.

She only gives herself a few seconds of self-indulgence, before she pulls the paper away from her face, sitting up a little straighter. Opening her eyes, she focuses on the words in front of her, scanning through the first few lines.

A gasp breaks through the silence in the studio as Julie starts to process the meaning behind the song.

She was reading a love song.

Her brain takes a second to comprehend, and another to fully process and kick in.

A love song written by Luke. And there was a very big chance that it was written with her in mind.

Love songs weren’t entirely a new territory for them - they had experimented with a few ever since they performed Stand Tall. But this one was a fully fleshed out song, with an underlying tone that was so heartbreaking, Julie could already feel her heart squeezing tight in her chest as tears start to push past her eyelids and down her cheeks.

So lately, been wondering,

Who will be there to take my place,

When I’m gone, you’ll need love,

To light the shadows on your face

A sob clawed its way out, breathing ragged as Julie clutched tighter at the piece of paper in her hand, her eyes squeezing shut. He must have written this when they thought they were going to move on.

She presses her free hand, now shaking, against her mouth, failing to stop the new stream of oncoming sobs from breaking out.

Even now, with the boys being physically present in her life, uncertainty still reared it’s ugly head. She would be bobbing her head along to music, working on her algebra homework, or lying in bed scrolling through Instagram, and it would hit. She’d suddenly be very aware of the fear of losing her new found family, of losing him, unsuspectingly crawling its way back up from where it was buried deep down, engulfing her in a haze that wouldn’t let up.

Trying to bring herself back to the present, Julie shakes her head, eyes opening back up. She tries to refocus on the words in front of her, even as her vision continued to blur.

If I could, then I would

I’ll go wherever you will go

Way up high, or down low,

I’ll go wherever you will go

And maybe, I’ll find out

The way to make it back someday

To watch you, to guide you,

Through the darkest of your days

I hope there’s someone out there

Who could bring me back to you

If I could turn back time,

I’ll go whenever you will go

If i could make you mine

i’ll go wherever you will go

“Jules?”

She was so taken by the words on the paper, so absorbed in the world the words were creating, that she hadn’t noticed Luke appearing into the studio.

Startled, she lifts her head, hair shifting and falling back over her shoulders as her eyes meet his.

LUKE

Luke had spent his night just as he always did: Roaming around the streets of Hollywood, constantly checking out new bands, new music - desperately trying to keep up with the music scene that constantly seemed to be changing.

Him and the boys had made a pact that they would always take advantage of their time back on Earth, whether spending it with loved ones (Alex tried to sneak off and see Willie whenever it was possible; Reggie liked to stick around the Molina house, following Ray and Carlos around), or spending it enriching their already deep knowledge of music.

And although he genuinely enjoyed spending his nights exploring the music scene with his boys, Luke always found himself itching to head back to their studio. Itching to head back to Julie. Some could call it pathetic (Alex), but he was over caring.

After having thought that he had somehow lost her, being forced to cross over or join some megalomaniac’s house band forever, he was through trying to act coy. He was head over heels in love with Julie Molina, and that was that.

Which meant that as soon as he deemed it late enough to head back, he left the boys on their way to meet Willie at some singer’s pool, and poofed back home (home. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?).

He was expecting the Molinas to still be asleep, hoping he’d be able to get a few hours’ worth of songwriting in before he’d be joined by a sleepy Julie.

What he hadn’t expect was to find a hunched over Julie, sat on their couch looking small as her eyes shone with freshly shed tears.

Luke quickly crossed the space between them, nearly jumping over the coffee table in his rush to get to her. He fell onto the couch next to her, reaching out to grab her hand in his. As was his routine whenever he’d held her hand, his thumb started to lightly trace over her knuckles, trying to soothe her the only way he knew best: by touch.

“Jules? Julie, what’s wrong? What happened?” He searched her face, futilely trying to make sense of the red rimmed eyes and the tear streaked cheeks. He was so preoccupied by the fresh batch that had started to spill over that he hadn’t noticed the cause: the now crumpled piece of paper wrapped up in Julie’s trembling fist.

But Julie would only shake her head at him, staring back with wide and glistening eyes.

Luke shifted, twisting his body to fully face her, extending his free hand towards her face to gently cup her cheek. The need to touch was just as much for her as it was for him. If he had a beating heart, it would be trying to hammer its way out of his chest. He needed something to ground him, to calm him down so he can focus, and nothing did that better than the girl sitting in front of him.

“Do you- do you want to talk about it?” He tried to regulate his voice, making it softer, tilting his head slightly to get closer to her eye level. He’d let her decide if she wanted to talk. He knew from personal experience what it felt like to want to let the tears and emotions pour out, without feeling the need to speak them out loud.

And yet - the lack of reaction on her part was worrying him. She still wouldn’t say a word, not even another shake or nod of the head - just staring at him with a mix of grief and wonder shining from her eyes. He didn’t know what to do with that.

But just as he was about to slide back a little, give her some space, he saw her lift her free hand, fingers curled tight into a fist, holding it up in front of him.

He looked at her questioningly for a second, before the hand that was still resting on her cheek moved to brush at her closed fist. At the contact, her fingers seemed to relax, easing the pressure on her knuckles. She slowly unraveled what was in her hand, dropping it in the palm of his.

As soon as he saw the crumpled piece of paper he understood.

She had found it.

His song. To her.

His farewell song.

He‘d completely forgotten he had hastily slipped it back into his songbook yesterday after their session.

He had planned on leaving the song in her dream box, where she was to find it after they had crossed over - a little piece of him, of his heart, of his soul, left behind for her to hold whenever needed.

But then they had stayed. And hugged. And laughed and hugged some more. And he figured she didn’t need to know about the sad love song he had written her.

So he had snuck back into her room late last night while she was asleep, and quickly grabbed it, shoving it into his songbook, with plans to properly dispose of it at a later time.

Too late for that now.

“Jules - I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to find this.” He scratched the back of his neck, song still in hand, unsure of how to navigate the conversation. He let out a long breath, trying to find the right words to explain to her.

“I wanted to leave you something that would always remind you of me - something personal, that no one’s seen or heard before. Just a little keepsake that you could go back to and read whenever you needed it.” His hand dropped into his lap with a soft thud, sound muted by the deafening quiet of the studio.

He chanced a look at her face, to find her still staring at him. Fortunately (he hoped), he could see the tears had stopped.

“I didn’t want to leave, knowing things might have been left unsaid. I figured I wouldn’t be as lucky next time round.” He tried for a weak laugh, but knew it wasn’t going to work. So he tried again.

“It uh- it was in your dream box. I know you said not to go near it, but I swear I just dropped the song in there and closed it. I didn’t snoop. Scout’s honour.” He did a little salute, two fingers held up, despite the fact that they both knew he was never a boy scout. He even tried a little shy smile, hoping she’d react to something. Anything.

And yet, still nothing.

Did she hate it? Did she think he was overstepping her boundaries? Did the song make her uncomfortable? He was starting to panic, even as he still felt her warm hand resting in his.

He let out a deep breath and tried again.

“I’m sorry, Julie, please, just talk to me. Let me know if I made you uncomfortable in any way, I-I-I’ll stop. We can burn the piece of paper and just forget this ever happened just please- say something.” He was pleading her, eyes solely focused on hers as he tried to gauge any type of reaction from her.

“You think I’m crying because it made me uncomfortable?” Her voice was so low, he nearly missed it.

He was not expecting her to start with that. But unexpected reactions were better than nothing.

“I- I don’t know Julie. You’ve been quiet from the moment I poofed in here. I don’t know what to think. But I’m so-“

“Please. Please Luke, stop apologising.” She shook her head, voice hoarse. Her lips twitched at the edges, the first signs of movement on her face since he approached her.

“This song- I-“ She swallowed, trying to dislodge the emotions wedged in her throat. Her eyes flickered from his lap, to the song and back up to his.

“Luke this- this is the most beautiful song you’ve ever written. I haven’t even looked at the music accompanying it and it’s already my favourite piece of music ever.”

Her voice hitched, as she tried to control her feelings. She cleared her throat, continuing.

“I cried because the emotions, the feelings that have been building up for a while now, all came crashing down on me at once. The fact that I really was this close to losing you guys,” she lifted her hand and touched his jaw, letting her fingers trail his cheek. “To losing you.”

Luke lifted his hand, covering hers.

“I’ll always be by your side Julie. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure of it. You know that.” His lips quirked into a half smile, recalling the words he had uttered the night they thought was their last.

“Could you- Could you play this for me?”

That surprised him. He wasn’t expecting her to want to revisit the song for a while. He lifted his brows as he tried to read her clear brown eyes.

“You sure you want to hear it now? We have all the time in the world. We could leave it for another day?“

She shook her head, the first real smile that morning, finding its way on her lips.

“No, I’m sure. I want to hear you sing it while I- while I can hold you close.”

His non-beating heart stuttered at her words, even as he tried to (unsuccessfully) keep the joyfully surprised expression from showing too much on his face.

“Alright.”

He got up quickly to grab his guitar and then immediately headed back to sit down next to his brown eyed wicked beauty.

Hm, that title had potential.

No Luke, focus.

He started tuning his six-string as Julie settled herself more comfortably against his side on the sofa. Her arm snaked its way around his back as she squeezed herself closer, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes, trying to savour this feeling, this moment, committing it to memory, before he opened them back up and prepared himself to start playing the song he never thought he’d get the chance to perform.

So lately, been wondering,

Who will be there to take my place,

When I’m gone, you’ll need love,

To light the shadows on your face

He could already feel the tears soaking their way through his shirt sleeves, as Julie’s hand clenched, her arm tightening her hold onto him. He fought through the need to comfort her, willing himself to finish playing her his song. He was baring his soul to her; the least he could do was do it right.

I know now, just quite how

My life and love might still go on

In your heart, in your mind

I’ll stay with you for all of time

He was nearing the end of the song, strumming through the last verse before he reached the altered chorus, bringing his emotions to an all time high. He sneaked a quick peak at Julie, her eyes closed as the tears continued to spill.

If I could turn back time,

I’ll go wherever you will go

If I could make you mine,

I’ll go wherever you will go

I’ll go wherever you will go

And with the last strum of his guitar, the final note softly fading into the quiet of the studio, Luke shifted for the first time since he started playing her the song. He gently moved the guitar from his lap, placing it against the side of the sofa. Turning back around, he then fully enveloped the other half of his soul in his arm, bringing her even closer to her rightful place in his heart.

FIN

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 19 - The Masters

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, what are they up to?, 3.6k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

Willie was back in Vegas, wandering through the street late at night. He was just leaving the hotel, like he’d just dropped Alex off by the front doors, knowing that he was saying goodbye and couldn’t stand to leave it on a heavy note. Still, he moved onward without looking back. He was just going to enjoy the memory that he had of the green eyes and the waves and the way he’d been nestled against Alex’s chest with fingers in his hair and wearing the hat and feeling like a handsome prince at the look on Alex’s face and - yeah, he was just going to cherish it forever. Without ever having another chance. Rock stars didn’t keep promises like that, no matter how much they meant to. The second Alex made it big, he would forget him, Willie was sure.

The journey from the hotel back to Caleb’s house was incredibly short. He looked back toward the street in bewilderment, unsure what could have happened. Sure, Willie knew his shortcuts, but he’d definitely clocked that journey numerous times.

As he walked up the drive, he rounded the corner and to his horror found the shed already ablaze. Stepping back in terror, Willie stiffened as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, Caleb loomed over him with a monstrous look in his eyes. He seemed to grow larger by the second and his face became twisted and grotesque. Then he opened his mouth, letting out a cry of rage as his eyes began burning a fiery purple and he raised his arm as if to strike.

“I told you to clean up this mess!” he cried.

Running away from the house, Willie was only just able to escape his attempted blows. His feet seemed to slam against the pavement, and his breathing was too loud. Looking up momentarily, he somehow had already arrived at the diner, and that was in flames too. Willie couldn’t help the small cry of distress that released from his throat, almost like a sob. Changing direction, he eventually came to the hotel and watched as it was already crumbling apart as it burned. Fear and confusion consumed him as Willie continued running with tears streaming down his face. The bodega was on fire too. And so was Roy’s. Anywhere that Willie tried to run to roared in fiery destruction.

He was sitting inside the truck, but it was empty. Nobody sat in the driver’s seat - nobody smiled back at him. All Willie could see was that the truck was burning but he couldn’t open the door to escape. He tried rolling down the window but the flames got too high and he had to roll it back up. The door wouldn’t unlock or be forced open. Willie could feel himself suffocate in the confined space, feel his pulse rising. The ever encroaching doom of never making it out shrouded him like it was its own force.

“Willie!” A banging could be heard on the window and Willie looked up to see Alex frantically trying to open the door on the other side. Pressing his hands up against the glass, Willie shook his head, telling him it was no use. Alex just kept tugging on the handle and pounding his fist on the window in desperation, and didn’t seem to be affected by the flames consuming the truck as he did so. All Willie could hear was his name striking against the glass with every fistfall, but no change in Alex’s ability to save him. The agonizing sound repeated, slowly fading back as everything darkened and became more muffled, and then finally his mind regained consciousness.

Sitting up in bed, Willie sucked in a breath and huddled himself close. Taking a few seconds to try and let his pulse calm down, he looked over and found Sheldon had been curled up in sleepy contentment against his stomach, and was already stretching to find another place to sleep. Picking up the cat and cuddling him into his chest, Willie scratched his favorite spot behind his ears, hoping to convince him to continue sleeping at his side. Hearing Sheldon purr helped slow his excited heart rate.

Thank goodness it had just been a nightmare. But why had it been so terrifying and bizarre? He had already been through the loop with the one that went backwards, and now having everything go down in flames and being teased with the hope of rescue? Willie didn’t think he wanted to know what it meant. It was beginning to be a pattern now that dreams like that had a significant meaning. He was afraid of what the meaning of this one might be.

Sheldon took advantage of his loosened grip while he was caught up in his thoughts, and scuttled off of the mattress into the dark. Sighing heavily, Willie laid down and pulled the covers over himself, trying to get back to the same level of warmth and comfort as before. Nothing was bringing him back into a state where he could easily drift back to sleep. The wonder of the ocean in Alex’s green eyes didn’t help this time because it only brought the echo of his voice crying Willie’s name. He could only focus on missing the feeling of his cat curled up beside him.

“It’s gotten worse,” Alex said over the phone. Willie was just finishing another shift at the record store when he’d gotten the call. It’d been a few weeks since their first date and Alex hadn’t even been able to call in that time. He didn’t know how he’d been able to handle months without him after that whole day filled with absolute bliss. It was great to hear his voice again.

“How much worse?” Willie asked.

“He’s been doing this thing where he criticizes the tiniest things, but then he uses every bit of persuasion to make us nod and say yes to what he wants. At first we fought it, but now we just do what he says and then hate it later. It sucks.”

“That’s how he started with me,” Willie told him. “I didn’t know any better, so it was worse.” So much worse - his mind had been so addled with the loss of memory and new information had been frightening for a while. He’d merely been a toy in Caleb’s puppeteer hands.

“Yeah, and now he’s watching us like crazy. He’s never stayed in L.A. this long. He’s there from the second we’re in the studio to when we leave.”

“Huh,” Willie replied. “I think I might be to blame for that.” A cruel memory arose of all the times he’d ignored Caleb’s imposed curfew and then been asked what he’d been up to.

“It doesn’t even feel like we’re doing music anymore,” Alex lamented. He’d been fired up when he had started the conversation, but the way his energy flickered out pained Willie too much. Alex hadn’t had a chance to be open with him about why music was so important to him, but Willie was able to take a few guesses.

“So what are you going to do?”

“Well, the guys and I have been talking…”

Willie rode in the back of the van with Alex and Reggie as the guys carefully rolled up into the alley behind the studio. They all remained hushed, but the anticipation in the atmosphere was electric. Each of them scrunched their faces at the sound of squeaky brakes as Bobby slowed to a stop and parked beside a door. He hadn’t spoken a word for the entire drive, but Willie shared a glance with Alex, both of them full of nerves and adrenaline, and they each held in awkward laughter. Luke got out as quietly as he could, made a careful sweep of the premises, and then unlocked the door before signaling everyone to get out.

“So you want to be in on this?” Alex asked. He had just told Willie their plan to get back at Caleb and it immediately got him excited.

“Of course!” he told Alex. “I’d give anything to make him pay back for everything he did.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Alex said. Willie could hear his smile from the other end.

As they each carefully entered the back end of the studio, Willie caught the stench of cigarette smoke in the first place they entered and covered his nose. While they continued further in, Bobby lit a flashlight.

“Ow!” Reggie immediately covered his eyes from being accidentally blinded. Bobby winced as he moved the beam away from his face.

“Sorry!” he whispered. “It’s hard to tell what’s what in here, it’s so dark.”

“When are we going?” Willie asked.

“Next Sunday night.” Alex told him. “Caleb should be out of town that weekend. Plus we have a few things that need to be ready first before we go for it. But I wanted to make sure you were totally in before we put all the plans together.”

Willie smirked. He wasn’t sure if Alex was aware he was tickling his rule-breaking side, but he wanted to think that maybe he did know. For someone as sweet as he was, it sure was nice that he didn’t try to stifle that side of Willie.

“Are you and the guys gonna pick me up?”

“Yeah. We’ll come around...eleven? Does that work for you?”

“Yeah, that works perfectly.”

“Okay. I can’t wait to see you.”

Willie had to suck in a breath at those words, already wishing he didn’t have to wait an entire week.

“Can’t wait to see you either.”

They had gone all out with wearing black together and everything. Luke had been really vocal about it because Willie guessed he’d always wondered what a heist would be like. Did this count as a heist? It didn’t involve taking money or precious gems or anything - not even stuff that didn’t already belong to them, technically. In any case, it was definitely somewhere past midnight and due to the circumstances the guys had to break in to get what they wanted.

Willie followed them through the hallway, intrigued. This was where Alex had been spending a good deal of his time. Where Caleb had come and continued to spread lies. What the man wanted with them Willie was still unsure of, but he wondered if he’d been part of drawing Caleb’s attention to them. He didn’t like the possibility of having dragged them into his mess, but maybe it would be over soon. Alex put a hand on his shoulder and he immediately responded with an encouraging smile as warmth spread all over him.

 Luke was shuffling through the key ring. He hadn’t explained where he’d gotten it from and Willie honestly didn’t care to ask. The fact he had one instead of picking every single lock was impressive.

The door opened to reveal the studio they’d spent the past months recording in and Willie looked around at all the strange things he’d never imagined inside. So many different kinds of microphones and cords, stands for all sorts of things, smaller rooms to the side, headphones hanging everywhere. It seemed so different from just playing a show somewhere. Alright, maybe that was the point, but still, Willie was in wonder about how this somehow meshed with Alex’s rock n’ roll world. He didn’t want to laugh, but this place seemed so...wrong for the guys of Sunset Curve. Not because it was just any recording studio, but this particular one made him picture a bunch of guys in pressed business suits making some easy listening record. He would’ve tried to tell them not to sign here even if Caleb weren’t involved.

While he looked on, the rest of them began taking out all of their equipment. Quickly, Willie aided Alex in carrying out different pieces of his drum set. He had to be especially careful carrying out any cymbals so they didn’t make any noise, moving at a ridiculously slow pace. The rest of the guys packed up their guitars and amps and they managed to somehow place everything in the van so it fit tightly and securely.

“Is that really everything?” Willie asked, peeking inside once they’d hauled everything out.

“We’ve done this plenty of times,” Reggie told him. “Not the breaking and entering thing, of course, but the whole packing all of our stuff into Bobby’s trusty van.” He patted the side of the van affectionately. “It’s like Tetris!”

“Her name is Thelma, thank you,” Bobby teasingly corrected before he disappeared back inside the studio.

Reggie got flustered as he followed him. “I...wasn’t calling her Tetris…”

Willie chuckled as he shut the door and brought up the rear. This time the guys went into the booth behind the studio and began looking into every box and drawer they could find. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, but Willie still joined them anyway. What were masters even supposed to look like? After filtering through everything they could, Luke and Bobby stood up.

“I’m not finding anything,” Luke said. “Anybody else?”

Alex rose from where he’d been kneeling over a box.

“Nothing.”

“Gonna be honest, I have no clue what I'm looking at,” Willie told them. Reggie peeked over into the box he’d been rifling through. After a few seconds, he shook his head.

“Nope, nothing there either.”

“Ahh, I figured they wouldn’t be here, but I thought we should look anyway, just to cover all our bases,” Luke admitted.

“Where else were you planning on looking?” Bobby urged slightly. He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost one already.”

“Everywhere man, what else?”

“Luke, we can’t spend all night here,” Alex said.

“Okay, guys” Luke defended. “We can split up or something and get things done twice as fast.” The guys looked around at each other, although it was obvious what the pairings would be.

“Okay, Alex, Willie, you two can go together. Bobby and Reggie, come with me.” Willie instinctively took Alex’s hand as they looked at each other, both smiling a little. “Just don’t get stuck in a closet together or something.”

“Really, Luke?” Alex remarked. “Us? In a closet? Choice words, man.”

Luke only rolled his eyes and shook his head with a smirk as he followed Bobby and Reggie. Alex turned to Willie, also shaking his head at his friend.

“Okay,” he said. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Hand in hand, Willie followed Alex into another storage room, having difficulty getting his mind off the now-forbidden closet scenario. Maybe they could find the masters and then kill some time? He’d gotten a chaste little smooch as he’d entered the van and plenty of knee touches, but as they were already in the middle of breaking in, why not take the chance to make out in a closet while they were at it? The kind of story that would make for later? The memory? It was too tempting.

“I won’t lie, I definitely thought you guys knew where these masters would be,” Willie told Alex as he pulled open drawers full of file folders. Alex sighed as he shut the drawer he’d been searching.

“I should’ve told you we were guessing at best,” he said. “But we really did think they were most likely going to be in the mixing booth. Or, I guess, all of us excluding Luke.”

“What are you guys going to do if they’re not here?”

Running both hands through his hair, Alex thought for a little bit. It appeared their plan lacked a great deal of thought toward contingencies.

“So next time you tease me for forgetting what busses are, I’m just gonna bring this up - ”

“Shut your face,” Alex laughed, playfully shoving at his shoulder, making Willie giggle. “This isn't even close to that. Anyway, I guess we would just have to come up with a new plan. I mean, no one would even know we came tonight as long as we don’t get caught.”

Willie placed his on Alex’s back assuringly and for a moment they simply shared a look of hope. His hand slowly trailed from his back and held the side of his face, gently rubbing his thumb along Alex’s cheek.

“We’ll find them,” he insisted softly. Placing his hand over Willie’s, Alex’s eyes emanated gratitude and he gave a small smile.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, returning the tender tone he’d been given. Shrugging casually,  Willie shut the last drawer, making sure everything remained as it had before. He trailed Alex as they headed back out and almost immediately clashed into the other three boys.

“So we’re thinking it’s in...the office,” Luke told them.

“The office?” Alex asked in disbelief, apparently understanding what that meant. All the guys looked at each other with uncertainty, none more than Willie himself.

“The office?” he repeated. “Is that supposed to mean, like, Caleb’s, or something?”

“You guessed it,” Bobby replied, gesturing toward him dejectedly. “And it’s the one that Luke definitely doesn’t have a key for. So unless you’re good at picking locks, we came here for nothing.”

Willie wasn’t sure what it was, but at hearing Bobby say that it was like lightning struck in his mind. Sitting back on his heels, he looked between each of the guys, landing his gaze on Alex last.

“Actually, I think I can,” he told them seriously. “I’m not sure, but...I don’t know how, but I think I know this.”

“That’s a better chance than none at all,” Luke said with the slightest hint of confidence. “Anyone got something we could use?”

“Ope!” Reggie immediately began digging into the pocket of his pants and shortly procured a bobby pin. As everyone stared in bewilderment, he merely shrugged. “I had to do my sister’s hair this morning; I think it turned out pretty okay.”

“Alright, well hand it over,” Luke demanded. Reggie passed it to Willie and they all gathered around the door of Caleb’s office.

Kneeling and licking his lip, Willie concentrated on placing the bobby pin correctly into the lock, pressing his ear against the door and listening as he slowly turned the pin back and forth. A couple minutes of distilled silence passed as everyone held their breath, watching him carefully work with the lock until they all heard a satisfying click and Willie cracked a wicked smile. The whole band exhaled in relief as he turned the handle and pulled the door back.

“Come here,” Alex said, pulling him into a quick kiss with both hands before venturing into the room. A very twitter-pated giggle let loose from Willie’s throat that he tried not to dwell on because of how embarrassing it must have sounded. Reggie smirked as he passed them, nodding in approval.

“Awww, yes!” Luke cried as he found what he’d been looking for: the master copies of their newly finished album. According to Alex, the mixing and rendering had only been finalized a couple days before and they had more of Caleb’s stamp of approval on them than anything close to their songs. They couldn’t finish ruining his business without them. This was only half of their plan, anyhow.

As Luke filled his hands with the precious records in victory, an alarm immediately began blaring into everyone’s ears. They all looked around in panic before they all rushed toward the back door of the studio again, hands over their ears.

“Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!” Luke repeated, clutching the masters to his chest.

While they were almost out the door, Reggie stopped as he caught sight of the recording booth again, an odd look in his eye.

“Reggie, come on, we’ve gotta go!” Bobby called to him.

“No, I’ve gotta do this!” Reggie shouted back, heading inside the booth. Willie watched in confusion as he unbuckled his jeans while leaning with his back against the glass of the booth. He lowered the back of them until he could press his entire rear end up to the window, trying his best to make a print in the glass. Bobby sighed in exasperation and shook his head as he rushed to get behind the wheel of his van.

Reggie finally left the window, struggling to pull his jeans back up as he hurried toward the van again. Alex stood back as he climbed into the same seat that he’d had before, and then made to clamber inside himself before bright lights illuminated them from behind. Turning and raising an arm so he couldn’t be blinded, Willie stood petrified at what he saw.

Caleb Covington stepped out of his vehicle, a look of fury that struck his very core. Suddenly, Willie could feel flames beginning to devour him, and the way the man had leered over him in his dream made his blood freeze. He’d once been completely trusting of this same creep who had his gaze fixed on him with pure hatred. He could hear the pounding on the glass. He could also hear the sound of his name.

“Willie!” Alex tugged on him harshly, dragging him backwards into the van and slamming the door shut before Willie even realized what had happened. Snapping out of his trance, he looked up as Alex was gripping his hands tightly and Bobby floored it out of the back of the alley. He couldn’t help but stare back toward the fading headlights where Caleb’s figure was still silhouetted in a desperate stagger, and he thought he heard that same cry of rage.

He felt a sensation on his hands and looked down to see Alex planting a kiss on his whitened knuckles, rubbing them over with his hand. His face was full of concern, and a bit of his own fear mirrored back. They kept wary eyes out the back window of the van, but ultimately didn’t see Caleb following them. After a few blocks, Willie finally felt he could let go of the breath he’d had trapped in his lungs and pressed his forehead against Alex’s. That had been terrifyingly close, but they’d made it out. That’s what mattered.

[floralbuckley]

Write about Alex havin a panic attack and willie helping him

Though it was a regular Thursday, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, Alex had felt some-what anxious all day and he had not a clue why. That feeling in the pit of his stomach that hadn’t been present in quite some time had returned so suddenly that, over the course of the day, his anxiety had ironically made him feel even more anxious.

What he couldn’t wrap his mind around was that it felt like it had come out of absolutely nowhere. He had woken up to his 8 o’clock alarm (a phone call from Julie making sure he was up) the same as he always did every single morning, however, this morning there was a little tingle in his stomach that lingered a little too long for his liking. His first thought was that he was hungry. Surely that was it, right? Yes, definitely. He just needed a little breakfast and he would feel fine again. But even after Alex had eaten his entire bowl of porridge as well as some cookies, that same feeling was still there.

It carried on as the hours passed, a dull and numbing headache making its way into the day on top of that sick feeling in his stomach, which had grown more and more, until he had exhausted every possible reason of what this feeling could be. Finally, he knew he had to face the fact that it could only be one thing, and that was his good old friend: his anxiety. And as soon as he had come to this conclusion, the reason of why had sunk in as he remembered why his boyfriend wasn’t in the house.

The previous night, something Alex never though would happen, happened. He and Willie had their very first fight. And over something as simple as them both forgetting who’s turn it was to cook dinner. What made Alex even more mad was remembering that halfway through the fight he had realised it was actually his night, but his stubbornness told him to shut his mouth and prove he was right, which is exactly what he did. And after their light arguing had eventually turned into yelling at one another, and a few minutes had turned into half an hour, Willie simply took a breath, said he didn’t want to have to deal with this right now, and stormed out to stay at Reggie’s house.

This horrid feeling in his stomach took him back to a time before he had met Willie. A time when his stomach was nauseas and his head pounded and his palms would sweat every single day. A time when he didn’t have that person who knew exactly what he needed to calm him down and make him feel at ease. A time that Alex really didn’t enjoy looking back on.

But now here he was. 2pm in the afternoon and laying on the couch with an ever-present feeling of wanting to both cry and scream, Willie not by his side where he was usually sat. And as Alex looked up and took note of that empty space that was usually filled by that long-haired boy he loved so much, he finally couldn’t handle it anymore.

Slow tears began making their way down his cheeks as all the anxiety from the day was finally being let out, however, it wasn’t too long before Alex could feel his heart rate beginning to speed up and his throat starting to wheeze as he slowly was losing his control over his breathing. He sat up quickly and closed his eyes, placing one hand on his chest and the other on his stomach like his therapist had once told him to do. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, almost as if it were begging to be let out as it so dearly missed the one that kept it beating. And he felt his stomach rise and fall more quickly as each second passed by and his anxiety rose higher and higher. Alex begged his mind to let himself calm down and get through this on his own, but as he sat there in the living room, the dead silence that screamed he was all alone surrounding him, he knew that the one person he wanted to call more than anything was at Reggie’s and more than likely still was not in the mood to talk to Alex. But as Alex’s fingers began to grow numb from his heavy breathing, he knew that he really didn’t have much of a choice. It was either face the music and call, or faint, And Alex knew which one he would prefer.

He slipped a shaking hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialled the only number he knew by heart, and hit the call button as he waited for Willie to answer. He truly thought that his boyfriend would refuse to pick up, that he still didn’t want to deal with Alex. However, after a few rings a sad and tired, yet also stubborn voice could be heard through the speakers of Alex’s phone.

“Ready to apologise?” Willie said shortly, however the exhaustion was clearly evident in his voice.

Alex felt both his heart and breathing rate go up at those words, starting to loudly hyperventilate as he attempted to find the words to ask Willie to come home.

However, those words didn’t need to be found. As soon as Willie heard the spike in Alex’s breathing, he knew what was happening. “I’ll be there in 5, baby,” he said quickly, his tone completely changing to be one that was filled with worry. “Just stay still, okay?” Alex could hear Willie shuffling around, the jingle of keys, the starting of a car. He did his best to focus on the sounds from the other end of the line to try and ease his mind, but every time he remembered last night, he was thrown back into panic with more tears being shed.

It wasn’t long before Willie finally said that he was home and had hung up the phone. Alex had never been so relieved in his life to hear their front door open, and at the same time, his phone slipped out of his hand as his fingers became increasingly number. Willie ran over to where Alex was still sat on the couch and knelt down in front of him.

“Hey, I’m here,” he said gently, grabbing hold of Alex’s hands.

“I-I’m sorry,” Alex struggled out, his cheeks adding to the list of things that were growing numb on his body.

Willie shook his head from side to side before he got up and sat on the couch next to Alex, then tightly wrapped his arms around his torso. Alex appreciated the pressure, already feeling his breathing start to slow down little by little as he breathed in Willie’s scent – his favourite smell in the world.

“It’s okay, Lex. I promise.” Willie whispered, gently kissing Alex’s cheek multiple times before pressing his lips a final time to his boyfriend’s temple, then looked up at Alex’s tear-stained face. “Hey, remember the time I tried to teach you how to skate?” He said with a light chuckle, knowing exactly what would work to calm down the shaking boy in his arms.

Alex simply nodded in response, his eyes still closed tightly and his hands now wrapping around the arm of Willie’s that was around his waist.

“I remember how nervous I was when I was waiting for you. What was that? Our third date?” Willie knew for a fact that it wasn’t their third date, but he also knew that if he got Alex to speak, he would calm down so much faster.

“It was our second date,” Alex said softly. “I remember you bought me iced coffee with oat milk because I told you I was lactose intolerant.” Alex smiled at the memory, thinking back to that time and remembering how thoughtful he thought Willie had been to not only buy him a drink, but to keep in mind something Alex had told him weeks before that date.

“’Cause I had such a big crush on you, I didn’t want to mess anything up,” Willie said sweetly, causing Alex to break out in a wide smile as the feeling began to return to his cheeks and fingers, his eyes still slightly teary, though. Willie wiped away the wetness that remained on Alex’s cheeks and smiled. “I also remember you falling over before you even got both feet on the board, and you forced me to hold your hand as I put a band-aid on your knee.”

Alex smiled and let out a fake gasp. “You so wanted to hold my hand, just admit it.”

The both of them let out a chuckle at this memory and Alex leant into Willie, resting his head against his boyfriends chest. He finally felt calm, like he could breathe and think clearly once again, and it was almost as if the two of them didn’t need to say a single thing more. Almost.

“So,” Alex started reluctantly. “It actually was my turn to cook last night.”

“I knew it!” Willie said with a loud laugh, poking Alex in the ribs to get him to laugh as they both fell backwards on the couch, Willie’s arms still tight around Alex’s middle with absolutely no plans on letting him go for the rest of the day.

[phantom-curve]

did I shatter you? pt.3

part one: you’re not my homeland anymore | part two: when a good man hurts you | part three: there’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me | part four: my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand | epilogue: what died didn’t stay dead

They rode the train together in silence. Side by side, leaning into each other occasionally when their car screeched around a corner. They held hands in the yellow light of the Barclays Stadium stop as they transferred from the Q to the D, and still they didn’t talk. It was another silent agreement to pause their conversation for now. They had broken through the first heavy layer of their past. They needed a safer harbor if they were going to keep digging. When Julie had shyly mentioned the apartment, she had seen the way Luke’s eyes lit up and then watched him immediately feel the devastating blow of realizing she had kept both of the homes they had shared. It was only minutes later that they were walking to the subway stop on Ocean Parkway, fingertips brushing every few steps.

The snow had stopped by the time they were climbing the steps to the West 4th Street exit. A thick blanket of white covered the ground, muffling the normal sounds of the city. Julie felt as if the universe had created this quiet cocoon just for the two of them. Their footsteps crunched in perfect synchronization as they made their way to Cornelia Street. The nondescript brownstone walkup came into view sooner than anticipated. Julie fumbled for a moment, frozen fingers struggling to jam her key into the old lock. Luke’s hand covered hers, slipping the key in easily and opening the door with a slight jiggle.

“I don’t know why this door always fights you so hard.”

The low words were murmured directly into her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine. He was right. She had always struggled with this lock, Luke usually letting her try and fail for a few minutes before taking over and opening it in one try. The intimate reminder of the life they once shared sent a wave of longing through her. They stumbled inside together, shedding wet layers in the darkened entryway. Luke switched the light on before Julie could get to it. He sucked in a breath as the apartment was illuminated. She avoided his gaze, focusing on her shoelaces. She knew what he was seeing. This was her apartment now, hers alone, but it looked the exact same as when it had been theirs.

She had made changes to the LA house, had needed to do something to get rid of the overwhelming Lukeness of the space. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to erase him from the apartment though. She didn’t spend much time here anymore, the odd weekend when she was passing through on tour or flying in for various press engagements. It wasn’t the same sanctuary it had once been. There were too many quiet memories etched into the creaky floorboards, too many happy scenes soaked into the wallpaper. She would never be able to remove his presence here, so she had simply embraced it instead. It was the one self-inflicted torture she allowed herself to indulge in. She didn’t let herself ask Alex and Reggie for updates. Didn’t allow her fingers to type his name into any search engines. When the longing became too sharp, she simply came here and escaped into what they used to have until the pain dulled. Clearly, Luke hadn’t expected this type of time capsule to be hidden inside.

Julie skirted around Luke’s frozen form, eyes bouncing around to look anywhere but him. She wandered into the kitchen, desperate for something to do with her hands, needing some type of busyness to keep her from throwing herself at Luke. They weren’t done talking, had barely scratched the surface. She couldn’t just jump back into him without overcoming the demons that had been determined to push them apart. Not if this was going to be anything more than a single night of closure. Julie was desperate for it to be something more. Her bones practically ached with the yearning.

She flicked the flame on underneath the kettle, reaching on her tip toes for her favorite mug from the cabinet next to the stove. A larger, longer arm shot above hers, easily plucking the ceramic from the shelf. His body heat pressed in against her back and Julie fought to keep her breath steady. He reached one shelf lower to pull down her favorite box of chamomile tea and the honey pot she kept next to it. His muscles shifted and flexed, the sight sending a hot wave through her body. He reached further back into the cabinet, frowning down at her when he couldn’t locate the other mug that used to live there. Julie felt her cheeks flame.

“There were some things that didn’t survive the breakup.” She mumbled cryptically, ducking underneath the cradle his arms had created.

She avoided his eyes, remembering the first time she had returned to the apartment after losing Luke. She had cried until there were no tears left, curled into a ball in the entryway as she stared at the dirty Vans he had left behind. There had been small little bits of him scattered throughout the entire space, like Easter eggs designed specifically to break her heart. She had torn through the apartment like a whirlwind, throwing every last scrap of it into a trash bag, ripping half written songs to shreds, smashing his favorite mug against the wall in the kitchen hard enough she had needed to repair a small dent left behind. It was only when she noticed how the shattered porcelain had left little pinpricks of blood on her bare feet that she had been brought back to herself. There was no undoing the damage. Truly numb for the first time since she had left Luke on the boardwalk, Julie had bandaged her cuts, swept the mess into the overflowing bag and stuffed the entire thing in the dumpster in the side alley. It had been the last time she’d let herself go to pieces over Luke.

“You painted that mug for me for our one-year anniversary.”

Luke’s voice was broken. Julie didn’t have to look to see hurt on his face, she could hear it in his words. The kettle screamed a shrill whistle as the water boiled. Julie grabbed a plain black mug from a different cabinet, dropping a tea bag into each cup before filling them with the hot water. She kept her face down, shrouded behind the steam.

“You didn’t take it with you when you left.”

He hadn’t taken any mementos. The apartment had looked the exact same as the morning they had left it when she returned over a month later. There had still been dirty breakfast dishes in the sink.

“I didn’t think...that wasn’t supposed to be the end.”

Julie nearly dropped the kettle in surprise. Hands shaking, she forced herself to place it safely back down on the stove before turning to face him. His eyes were swimming with regret, body bowed inward as if someone had sucker punched him. He looked completely lost.

“Luke...”

She tried to keep her voice soft. It was obvious he wasn’t faking his reaction. Clearly, this was yet another miscommunication that could be added to the mess that was the end of their relationship.  

“You...didn’t think that was the end? After what you said? After almost a year of trying and failing to be what you needed?”

He was staring at her like she was challenging everything he had ever believed to be true. Julie felt the crack in her heart twinge.

“Was I just supposed to stick around as your punching bag forever?”

He staggered back a step as if her words had hit him with a physical blow. She wanted to cry. God, what an absolute disaster. So many crossed wires and not enough grace for each other had led them to this place where they were both adrift in a sea of misunderstanding and hurt. It was ironic that the one person who had known every last inch of her now stood before her as an almost stranger.

She forced herself to return to the comfort of preparing their tea. She scooped twice as much honey into her mug, added a splash of milk to Luke’s. She told herself it was so Luke could have a chance to process, not so that she could work on clearing the lump from her own throat. She kept her eyes away from his face, unable to handle the destruction taking over his features. Mugs in hand, she left the kitchen and moved into the living room. The fireplace roared to life with the flick of a switch, the mugs placed on opposite ends of the coffee table as Julie curled herself into the corner of the couch, eyes unseeing as she stared at the flames dancing before her.

“Did you really think I only saw you as a punching bag?”

Luke had finally appeared in the doorway leading from the kitchen. Julie let out a small sigh of relief. His voice was a bit stronger, not the same defeated whisper as before. She could see he had made some sort of peace with the situation, even if the hurt was still raw behind his eyes. Then his words sunk in and she flinched away from the memories. She reached out to pull her mug close, needing the burn in her hands to keep her centered, needing the extra shield between the two of them. She cleared her throat delicately, refusing to let herself lean into the swell of emotions. She stared down at the liquid in her mug, trying and failing to keep her voice even.

“You quite literally told me that my work was less than yours. You made me feel like I was less than you. You found flaws in everything I did, Luke. Of course, I felt like a punching bag. It didn’t take long to figure out that I wasn’t the one you were really mad at. Bobby wasn’t around for you to take it out on, and you couldn’t hurt the boys like that, but for some reason I was fair game. At first, I rationalized it by telling myself that meant you loved me the most. That you were the cruelest to me because you felt the safest with me. I accepted that position like some dumb ass martyr, thinking it was proof of how much I loved you. I loved you so much I would bleed for you over and over.”

Tear drops plinked into her tea. It was the only sound in the room, even the snap of the fire dying down for the moment. She finally looked up to see Luke, still hovering in the doorway, staring at her like he had never seen her before.

“One day, I woke up and realized I had bled myself dry. I didn’t have anything left to give and you kept trying to take. I couldn’t live like that anymore. I cannot believe you thought I would stick around after that fight in Coney Island. What did you expect me to do?”

Her voice echoed in the quiet space like the closing of a tomb, low and haunted. For one second there was absolute stillness.

“I didn’t think you would just leave!”

Luke exploded, springing into the room with an uncontrollable burst of energy. It was his turn to pace now, hands moving a mile a minute as he stalked back and forth in front of her.

“Jesus, Jules, I came back here to wait for you, to talk it out, and you just never came home! I finally realized all of your most important shit was gone so I booked a red eye to LA, but when Reggie and Alex came to get me from the airport they wouldn’t let me go to the house. I thought you would come to me when you were ready, so I kept waiting and waiting and you just never showed!”

His movements were becoming more frantic, arms waving around erratically, hands fisting and tugging at his hair. Tears he hadn’t even noticed streamed down his cheeks.

“When the boys came home with my stuff and told me that you said it was over I thought I was going to die. Then Andi sent us a new contract and said you had left the band and I knew it was real. I didn’t...I never...I thought you broke up with me.”

The chasm stretched open between them again. It felt insurmountable. Julie wrapped her arms around herself, drawing her knees close to her chest, shrinking further into the corner of the couch. Luke was breathing hard, staring at her with heartbroken eyes that begged her to tell him his version of events was accurate, begged her to release him from the torture of knowing he had been the catalyst to end it all. Julie could do nothing more than cry harder.

“I waited for you to come home in LA. I told Lex and Reg that I couldn’t keep being the one to go back. I couldn’t keep accepting blame for things I didn’t do.”

Frustration burned in her gut, sharpening her words. Of course, he had expected her to be the one to bridge the gap, apologize and smooth the fight over. But she hadn’t started it. And she hadn’t thrown out daggers disguised as words in any of their wars. Those attacks were Luke’s alone.

“Why would I go back to someone that kept throwing me in the trash? You started that fight. You started every fight. Why was it my responsibility to bandage my own wounds and then apologize like I had caused them in the first place? That was all you, Luke. You didn’t even see it.”

Just like when they had been sitting on that snowy bench earlier, she watched the fight drain out of him instantaneously. He dropped to the carpet in a messy heap, burying his face in his hands. Muffled sobs echoed in the room, his back shaking from the effort. She ached to go to him, wrap her arms around his shoulders, offer him whatever comfort she could. She forced herself to stay seated. This was the reckoning Luke needed to have. If they were ever going to move past this he had to recognize the ways he had hurt her. The universe had brought him back to her, forced him to be the one to show up for once. It was in his hands now to repair that damage. Heart throbbing, she sat and waited, just like she had a year ago.

[fiveisnumber1]

Hoo boy this is gonna be a long one so I apologize in advance. I'll try to keep it short tho. So you recommended me these songs and here's my view on them. I decided to mention them by name in case someone else wanted to listen too:

Last Dance - Diplomacy

This song is pretty much word for word Five's thoughts in the apocalypse. He's "looking for a way out the door" or how to *create* a door in his case. He's quite literally haunted by reader's ghost who "won't let him be" cuz he imagines her with him all the time. It's her vision that nags him to keep going when he's ready to give up so he can "find my way back to (reader)"

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

I feel this song is very sad, speaking of Five's regret of Time Traveling. He'd literally wish he could go back in time to when he first met reader and warn his younger self to not be an idiot or else he'd lose reader or at the very least, not "ride along with (her)" to make sure she doesn't get stranded in time too. "I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you" is pretty self explanatory. He had reader, he lost her and wishes he could change things.

Lately III - COIN

The house is too quiet. So I sleep in my car. I'm losing my magic. I hear your voice in my head, I think that I'm working too hard. But who, who am I-I kidding? I want you right back in my arms.

I can see these lyrics being from both reader's and Five's perspective but more Five cuz everything around him is quiet. He literally "lost his magic" as in his ability to time travel til he could figure out the equation. He can hear the reader's voice in his head both encouraging him but also telling him to rest when he works himself too hard but obviously it's more important for him him to get back to her so she's in his harms again.

Thirteen - Armors

This made me think of a "what if" from readers perspective or just the beginning of their friendship when Five defied his father to meet and befriend her. It could work in reverse too since readers parents also wanted to have her avoid the Hargreeves but I guess I thought of Five more cuz he had more to lose from disobeying Reggie and befriending reader. The lyrics of "going out on Friday/tickets for the dance" and getting "your dad off my back" and becoming an "outlaw for my love" makes me very much think of Reader not putting up with Reggie's bullshit and encouraging Five to break free of him even more.

Lover of Mine - 5SOS

This one was possibly my favorite. The chorus was everything.

"When I take a look at my life And all of my crimes You're the only thing that I think I got I right I'll never give you away 'Cause I've already made Already made that mistake".

It's so clearly Five talking about the Reader after be comes back. Maybe his residual fears of doing something wrong and losing her. She's the only thing he did right after his time at the commission killing so many people, his self loathing makes him feel like coming back to save her and his family is the only worthwhile thing he's ever done. The first part of the chorus as well, God knows we've come up with so many dancing headcanons for Five and reader so I didn't repeat that. And the verses, I feel could be more of Five blaming himself for all the regrets reader has. I could see the second verse as reader though cuz she knows what Five has been through "the world fall from his eyes" so she literally wants to "kiss the regrets goodbye" so they can be at peace instead of him constantly blaming himself for what happened.

I also am going to try my best not to analyze every single song in detail (although I do have a lot of opinions) so let's jump in my (hopefully) brief reply. This is where the fun begins.

Last Dance - Diplomacy

We were dancing through the city, And you were looking pretty, you held me close. 

Even through the white lies we both talked. Oh-oh, We were running far away, oh-oh, From those words we can't say

So this first line is Five remembering the night that he danced with the reader. Straightforward. The second line though is about both the reader and Five and how they hid their feelings from each other. They continued to talk and be friends even though they were both lying to themselves and each other about the strength of their feelings. They were running away from opening up and expressing how they really felt (the words they cannot say)

Let me took another moment. Painted such a foot prints in the snow. But we've reached another road short. Going through emotions we both know.

I like to think that the footprints in the snow are the ones that they left together before Five left and jumped into the apocalypse. It was the last moment they were together. Also, both Five and the reader are constantly going through the same emotions of hurt, loneliness, regret, love. They both know those feelings.

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

I've been searching for a trail to follow again, Take me back to the night we met.

This line can be about the reader and Five. Both of them have been dropped into unknown situations. They’re both now lost in life and are searching for a sense of normalcy like they had when they were with each other, but they still haven't found that path or trail to follow since they separated.

And then I can tell myself, What the hell I'm supposed to do. And then I can tell myself, Not to ride along with you.

I think for this line from the reader's perspective is that now that she’s in this whole new time, a whole new reality, and she doesn’t know what to do. She can’t tell herself how to change things or move forward because she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do to accomplish that. And I think for the line “not to ride along with you” it’s the opposite of Five. Instead of Five wanting to not have brought her through time, it’s the reader wishing she held on and went along with him.

I had all and then most of you, Some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Haunted by the ghost of you. Oh, take me back to the night we met.

Like you said self-explanatory but both Five and the reader want to go back to the simpler times when they had each other.

When the night was full of terrors, And your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet, Oh, take me back to the night we met.

All I picture is the scenes I wrote where they’re both just crying over finally coming to the realization that they had truly lost the other. The reader on her knees below the portrait of Five above the fireplace and Five holding the now deceased in his arms. Both of them shedding tears at the terror of the situation and how they wished they could go back to when they met and start over so this would never have happened.

Lately III - COIN

Be honest with me. Do you, do you, do you wanna be honest with me right now? I swear to God it meant nothing.

I can see this as Five asking himself why he did what he did. Why did he not listen? Why did he jump through time? Looking back wanting to jump through time and defying Reginald really meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

The house is too quiet

This line can also be applied to the reader because she’s staying in the empty academy house. There was once the sound of all the academy kids but now there’s nothing.

Thirteen - Armors

I don’t have any specific lines but I agree that overall this is definitely the reader trying to convince Five to break free of Reginald’s grasp and live life with her. She’s not going to force him hence the line “If it's no, then I can go. I won't make you.” but she wants him to be able to do normal things with her like go to a school dance without it being a problem.

[theangriestpea]

Crowned : five

Summary: Two blonde princesses, two dark-haired princes, and one plotting marquess. Lily is in love with a secret admirer. Shanna doesn’t want to ascend to the throne. Jughead wants to spend the day writing poetry. Sweet Pea would rather be out on his horse. And Reggie just wants to be king. <ao3> <masterlist>

Pairing: Sweet Pea x OC, Jughead Jones x OC

Word Count: 4.6k+

Warnings: None really, mild drinking I suppose. 

A/N: Welcome to the grande finale! Part six will be an epilogue! Thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this series! There is also a scene that was omitted from this part that will be made into a one-shot later. Enjoy! Graphics on this chapter at by @princesweetpea​!

Part Five: Wedding Bells

Two fair haired princesses sat in silence at the table drinking a special blend of mint and ginger tea. They had both had unsettled stomachs for a few weeks now, and it was only getting worse. Everyone around them had chalked it up to nerves before their big day. In truth, that was part of it but not the reason why they had been so ill. 

“We have to tell them.” Lily said after a sip of tea. She held the teacup gently in her hands. The fragile porcelain was shaking slightly in her grip. “It’s the right thing to do.” 

Shanna was quiet for the longest time, and Lily wondered if she even heard her. They sat in a stuffy silence for another ten minutes before she finally spoke. “You’re right. They deserve to know.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Did the tea help you at all?” 

Lily shrugged, “a little. I feel slightly less like puking and more like laying catatonic on my bed until it all goes away.” 

“We’ve got a long time before that happens.” Shanna said with an unladylike groan. “Well, I know where Sweet Pea is. Always in his fucking war room. Any idea where Jughead is?” 

She bit her lip as she thought, “I’m not sure. Probably with daddy. It will look weird if I go get him. He will get suspicious…” 

“Divide and conquer then?” Shanna asked, “I’ll get my fiance, you get yours?” 

Lily nodded reluctantly. “Meet back here in ten minutes?” 

“Deal.” 

Roughly ten minutes later, the two princes had joined their future wives with a curious look in their eyes. They had noticed their strange behavior lately but they assumed it was just stress. 

The girls stared at one another, unsure if they should proceed. “Well?” Sweet Pea asked, annoyed that he had been interrupted. “I was in the middle of something important.” Shanna snorted back in response, knowing it couldn’t have been all that important since he was willing to come their little rendezvous. 

“On the count of three?” Lily asked her sister who simply nodded in response. She took a deep breath and counted slowly. 

Once of three they said in almost perfect unison, “I’m pregnant.” Before looking down at the ground, ashamed of their confession. It had been so  stupid  , so  reckless  of them to let this happen. Their wedding was in one week. Maybe, just maybe, they could get away with this without anyone finding out. After all, they were only about four or five weeks along.

The princes stared at them, Sweet Pea baffled with how this could have happened while Jughead had a broad smile slowly spread over his features. “This is great!” He exclaimed happily, clapping his hands together for emphasis. 

The other three royals stared at him with wide eyes and mouths agape. Great? How in the hell was this great? “Do tell me, brother,” Sweet Pea drawled with a grave tone, “how exactly is this  great ? We have to raise each other’s kids!” He threw his arms up in exasperation before pacing vigorously. 

Lav frowned, shuffling her feet and shifting her weight uncomfortably. She had known he’d be upset but she still wasn’t prepared for it. “You have to get rid of it.” He quickly added, looking directly at his lover with piercing brown eyes. They only softened when he saw the tears spill from her eyelids and down her cheeks. 

“Is that what you want?” She asked in a voice that shook like a leaf in a tornado. Pain made it crack with hurt. “You want me to just kill it and pretend none of this ever happened?” 

“You cannot be queen and give birth to my child!” He said, voice raised due to the intense anxiety he was feeling. “What about that don’t you understand?” 

Her eyes set ablaze as she stormed up to him and slapped him hard across the face, leaving the faint red impression of a hand print. “I understand that you’re a heartless, prick. Thank the heavens I’m not marrying  you  instead!” 

This time his eyes portrayed his own pain at her words. Something he normally steeled himself to. For a brief moment they both felt guilt. However, their anger made it quickly wash away. “No one will ever love you.” He bit back, spitting out the same phrase he told her after their first race. “Not my brother, not me, not your bastard child, no one.” 

Lily was about to jump on him herself, but Shanna stopped her. She swallowed the sob that threatened to erupt from her as she stared at him with narrow eyes, tears still streaming down her flushed cheeks. Before anything else could be said, the dark prince stormed from the room, the door slamming shut in his wake. 

Jughead was in a state of shock at how cruel his brother had just been to his fiance. To the woman he had consensually impregnated with his own seed. As soon as the door slammed closed, the older girl broke down. Before she could fall to her knees, both him and Lily caught her in their arms. They looked at one another with sorrowful eyes, knowing this was a pain they could not mend. 

“Don’t listen to that asshole.” Lily said, running her hands through her sister’s golden hair. “I love you. Our babies will love you. And I’m sure Jug-” 

“I’ll love you.” Jughead said with a soft smile, “maybe not in the way that I’m supposed to, but I will still care for you always.” The words stung Lily but not as much as she thought they would. This was their cold reality. There was no going back. 

Once he was back in his precious war room, Sweet Pea broke down himself. He remained silent as hot tears flooded his eyes and he went down to his knees in front of his war table. Everything was so messed up. Him marrying Lily. Shanna carrying his child. And worst of all the immense guilt he felt from the horrible things he had said to her out of anger. His father had tried time and time again to teach him control, but it always failed him in the end. This was just too much, he couldn’t bear it. 

And worst of all he knew that she’d hate him now and would possibly never let him see the baby she refused to get rid of. A prince or princess that will forever be their dirty little secret. A boy or girl that will one day ascend the throne even though they will have no Jones blood in them. But if anyone knew the truth, the alliance could break. Shatter their peaceful lives into tiny unmendable fragments. War would rage with the kingdom of Greendale. Their happiness was a lost cause. 

But still, he had broken his own heart with the way he had acted and unfortunately, this time, he had no idea on how he’d make it better. His own bride to be was likely to loathe him as well. Essentially he had just made his home life hell for who knows how long. Their joint weddings would be next week, not even a full seven days away. They’d honeymoon and I suppose consummate but it was far more possible that the only way he would get laid from now on would be through the string of mistresses he had planned to keep. Because ultimately no one would feel like Shanna did when she was in his arms or how comforting her presence was while they were in bed together. No, he’d probably just sleep alone. 

And that night, he was alone in his room. His eyes rimmed red and inflamed from the many tears he had shed. He stared up at the blank white ceiling, wondering how things were ever going to be okay again. No one had spoken to him, no one had bothered him for the rest of the day. Even so, he got no more work done. He was far too upset to concentrate. 

Instead he had found a bottle of top shelf whiskey in the kitchen and had taken it to his bedroom to nurse solemnly. It was half gone, his mind fuzzy and somehow horny for the one he had cast away. Perfect, he needed her and he had made it so she’d never satisfy him again. Why did he always screw things up? 

There was a banging on his door and he slurred a sloppy  come in . The door opened and his brother stood, looking tired and angry and determined. Shit. Sweet Pea knew that face well. That was the face Jughead made when he was on a mission to fix something that is broken. That something was no doubt the current state of his relationship with the woman that would bare his child. 

“Are you drunk?” He asked, staring at the dark prince that appeared to be extremely disheveled. Sweet Pea hiccuped a confirmation, having no need to use actual words to affirm the state in was currently in. 

Jughead wanted to punch him. Sweet Pea had a habit of drinking copious amounts when he was upset. It was a terrible coping mechanism that he and their father shared even though they weren’t blood relatives. 

He moved closer to the bed as Sweet Pea sat up. He grabbed the bottle from his nightstand and took another chug. Jughead snatched it from him before he could finish. “Is this about what you said to Shanna earlier?” 

Sweet Pea would rather fuck a cactus then talk about this with the crown prince. He thought it was glaringly obvious as to why he was drinking. Today had been a pretty shitty day. He found out he was going to be a dad and then ruined his relationship with the child’s mother. It was beyond terrible. 

“I didn’t mean it…” He mumbled, mostly to himself. He didn’t mean it, but that didn’t stop him from saying it. The moment replayed in his head like a broken record set to haunt him for the rest of his life. There was no way he could make this up to her. 

Jughead let out an aggravated sigh. “I don’t understand why you blew up like that. It’s not that bad. Actually, I think it’s pretty great. I love kids.” 

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes, “You want to raise someone else’s kid?” He spat back at him, “you won’t even see yours most of the time.” 

He shrugged, “I’d rather you be a father to them than a stranger.” He answered honestly. “We both need heirs anyway. This just speeds things up.” 

Pea stared at him in an attempt to see if he was being serious or not. Did he really not see how dangerous this was? “And what if someone does a DNA test on the child? What then?” 

“I’ll be king. It won’t matter because what I say will be absolute.” Jughead replied sharply with an air of authority. “We only have to keep this a secret for six more days. Then, it won’t matter. The deal will be sealed. No harm can come to our kingdoms. So if you ever want to see your kid in the future, I suggest you go to Shanna and apologize for what you said to her.” 

“She’s not going to forgive me.” Sweet Pea said miserably. “She probably won’t even answer the door.” 

“Go try!” Jughead said, his frustration showing more and more. “Because she’s having your child whether you want her to or not! You could at least be a halfway decent person for once in  your life and mend things with her before our weddings.” 

His brother’s words hurt. They struck him deep in the chest. Maybe Jughead was right, maybe he wasn’t a decent person. Always sleeping around. Breaking hearts. Getting into fights….the bad in him seemed to outweigh the good and he suddenly wondered what she saw in him at all. 

“Fine.” Sweet Pea said in a defeated tone. He managed to stand up and wobble towards Jughead who stepped out of his way. “But if she hits me again, I’m blaming you.” 

Jughead rolled his eyes, “you deserve anything she throws at you. Now go.” He shooed his brother out and watched him stumble down the hallway towards his fiance’s room. 

Once there, he leaned against the door with all his weight, breathing heavily in an attempt to control his nerves. Doing this while intoxicated was much harder than he had thought. He offhandedly thought about going back to his bed and crying himself to sleep. That would be easier than this. 

The door suddenly opened and he toppled forward, landing face first onto the carpet. He heard a shuffle of feet and an annoyed huff. “Did you shower in whiskey or something?” Shanna asked, the smell making her want to throw up for the fifth time that day. She was exhausted from the amount of emotion she had felt that day. Too tired to put up a fight as to why Sweet Pea was drunk outside her door. 

He mumbled something into the thick carpet that she couldn’t comprehend. “I can’t hear you when your mouth is full of shag.” She said, the bitterness in her tone made him flinch. 

Sweet Pea turned his head to the side and took a deep breath, “I came to apologize…” 

Shanna resisted the urge to kick him angrily in the side. “Please, just leave.” She said in a soft, defeated voice. “I don’t want to talk to you while you’re drunk.” 

He sat up, albeit with a bit of difficulty. “Shanna, listen, I didn’t mean what I said...I was just upset, I don’t want you to get rid of the baby…” 

She huffed angrily at him, “You’re so full of shit, Sweet Pea. You’re only here because Jughead ordered you too. I’m not an idiot. Just, go sleep it off or whatever. I don’t want to see you after what you said to me. Not meaning it does not make it okay. I’m not some verbal punching bag for you to take your anger out any time you get upset.” 

He looked down at the floor and against his will, more salty tears filled his eyes. She hadn’t seen how awful he looked when she opened the door. She could barely see it now. Snot flooded his nose, causing him to sniffle to keep it from dripping out. The sound made her freeze in her tracks. 

“Are you crying…?” She asked, her voice even quieter than before, almost as if she didn’t believe it. 

Sweet Pea looked up at her once more, fresh streaks of wetness down his face. “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry, I always fuck everything up. I’m not really a Jones, you know? I’m not royal. It’s not right for the queen to have a baby that’s not royalty. I’m just an abandoned mutt and you deserve better than what I could ever give you.” 

Shanna got down on her knees in front of him, reaching out with both hands to cradle her face. “I don’t care about your lineage. I never have. That doesn’t matter to me. Royalty or not. I don’t understand why you think so low of me. How did I possibly make you believe that I wouldn’t want you just because you’re not King Jones’ biological son? You are his son, Sweet Pea. Blood doesn’t always matter.” 

She wiped his tears away with her thumbs, her heart heavy from his words. “I love you.” She said for the first time out loud. While Lily and Jughead had no issue saying the three words until their lips turned blue, Shanna and Sweet Pea had not dared to utter them. “I love you and I will always love you. Even if you don’t love me back.” 

His heart twisted in its cage. “That’s not...that’s not true.” He said, meaning her last statement. “I do…” He hesitated, the words feeling so foreign in his mind. As if thinking it and saying it would cause the world to crash down around him. “I love you too.” He finally said in a low voice. He silently hoped she didn’t hear him. 

The princess leaned in and gently kissed him on the lips. It was tender and chaste, and after a second she pulled away. “Come in and close the door before someone sees you. And please, take a shower before you make me throw up.” She laughed lightly as she stood up. She outstretched her hand and he grabbed it, needing all the help he could get to stand. “Maybe it’ll sober you up a little.” 

“Oh, ha ha.” Sweet Pea said flatly before making his way into her bathroom. “Join me?” 

Shanna smiled and nodded, following up behind him and walking inside. 

  |\/\/|

 Six days past and the big day had come. The first item on the itinerary was the wedding of Shanna and Forsythe. It would take place promptly at 10 am, following a brief intermission there will be the wedding of Lilian and Nathaniel. Then the reception would follow. It was going to be a very long day. 

Prince Forsythe was at the altar in his traditional military uniform. He looked striking, as did Sweet Pea who was wearing a similar outfit next to him. The only difference was he had several more medals pinned to his breast. Adorned on both of their heads were crowns, although Jughead’s was much more elaborate compared to Sweet Pea’s modest one. 

One side was filled with the Northside Kingdom’s royal court and what little bit of royal family there was still left. The other housed the Southside Kingdom’s court and family. King and Queen Jones as well as Princess Jellybean. Even the royal hound lovingly named Hotdog was there sitting patiently. 

On the third row of the Northiside side, the Mantles sat waiting in quiet. Reggie had his evidence stockpiled against the princesses. He planned on using them to his full advantage. The pictures, the physical evidence he had gathered, it was all for this. All to usurp the Jones family. Hopefully the King would listen to him, although the duke had assured him that King Owens would have no choice but to concede. 

The music began and the wedding party slowly walked down the decorated aisle. There was but one bridesmaid and groomsman. The siblings of the bride and groom. They walked down the aisle together, Lily forcing a smile while Sweet Pea had a blank if not annoyed expression on his face.

The guests rose as the music changed to the traditional wedding march. The King appeared at the end, his eldest daughter on his arm as they walked slowly down the aisle. Small gasps at how beautiful the princess looked sounded, happy tears were already starting to be shed. 

Sweet Pea could not look away from him. His gut twisted painfully at the thought of the only woman he had ever actually loved marrying his brother. His eyes darted to her still flat stomach before going back up to her face. This wasn’t right but there was nothing he could do about it. His son or daughter would be in Jughead’s care. This seemed like a fresh kind of hell for him. Life had never been terribly easy but now it seemed a million times harder. 

Reggie’s hands twitched nervously as he fumbled with the plastic wand in his pocket. It was almost time. Almost… He did not notice Jughead’s gaze landing on him. 

The prince held his hand out for his future queen as the royal priest spoke, “who gives this woman away today on the day of her wedding?” 

“I do.” The King said with a kind smile, his eyes twinkling. Shanna gently grabbed Jughead’s hand and stepped forward to take her place at his side in front of the altar, facing him. 

The priest looked across the crowd. “Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” He stated for tradition sake. Obviously no one in their right mind would object. 

All four royal teens tensed at the old line. Lily and Sweet Pea’s eyes were on the marquess as Jughead and Shanna remained staring at one another in an attempt to pretend to be having a good time. Everyone was on edge. 

And then, as if on cue, Marquess Mantle stood. “I do, father.” He stated in a booming,  arrogant voice. “I have evidence of infidelity. Trickery. And something even more sinister that has happened under the noses of the royal court.” 

King Owen’s head shot around to stare at Reggie, his eyes aflame with rage at the interruption. Certainly nothing he had was true. Certainly this was all a trick to stop the wedding. “Marquess.” He said in an authoritative tone, “show me this evidence or you were be excused from this court...permanently.” 

“Your highness, some of it may be unsuitable for the eyes of the public. There are young children here.” He added calmly. “However, I will show it to you in private if you do not take my word.” He looked to the bride and drank in the horrified expression on her face. “King Owens. Are you aware of what your daughters have been doing on the days leading up to this ceremony?” 

“They’ve been busy planning.” The King said distrustfully. “And spending time with their fiances.” 

“That is only half true.” Reggie corrected. “They have been planning, yes. However They have not been spending quality time with their betrothed. Rather, Princess Shanna has been making a bed with Prince Sweet Pea while Princess Lily was having her own affair with Prince Forsythe.” 

Shanna thought she was going to faint. Sensing this, Jughead kept a firm grip on her in case she did lose consciousness. Lily’s knees were wobbling so hard that she was visibly shaking. No. No, no, no, this was all wrong!

“And your proof?” The King asked, his face red with fury. There was no way this was true. This was impossible. A fabrication to smear the names of his daughters. 

“I have video and photographic evidence.” Reggie replied, his tone cool and smooth. He took out two objects from his pocket and showed them to the king. “As well as these. Taken from the princesses’ personal bathrooms.” In his hand were two positive pregnancy tests. 

“Not only are the princesses not virgins but they are pregnant with the other prince’s child. I’m sure a simple medical exam will find this to be true. A DNA test will confirm it once the children are born.” Reggie said, a satisfied smile on his face at his success. 

The king’s murderous gaze turned to his two girls, “Tell me. Tell me this is all some cruel joke being played on your old man.” He said, his voice rising, “tell me you did not break your vow to me!” 

Before he could continue, King Forsythe Jones the Second stood. “King Owens.” He said, an amused look on his face for what his sons had gotten themselves into. “If I may propose a solution to this predicament?” 

The Northside King looked as though he did not want to negotiate any longer. His daughters had betrayed him in the worst way possible. Their kingdom was depending on them and they just threw it all away. He wanted to scream until his lungs gave out, but he held his composure. He took a breath to try and still his raging heart. “What do you have in mind?” He asked finally. 

“Since both my sons are of royal blood, and likewise both of your daughters are of royal blood, then what does it matter who marries who? I only ask that my son is king of our united kingdoms.” FP was smiling warmly at his sons and their fiancees. “I am not so set in my ways that I can’t compromise, are you?” 

King Owens sent a heated look to his daughters, mainly Lavender who was boldly looking back at him. “Daddy, I never wanted to be queen. Please, let Lily take the throne. She will be a brilliant queen. I will stay on the Southside with Prince Nathaniel to help him with the rural provinces. This is what we both want. Will the kingdom not be happier with two rulers who truly love one another?” 

Her gaze turned to Reggie. “The Marquess would have me marry him, daddy, but the truth is. He is the one that took my virginity on my eighteenth birthday to try and steal the crown from you. The only one here deserving of punishment is him. Sneaking into our bathrooms, spying on us, all of this is unacceptable for someone of the royal court.”

Reggie opened his mouth, about to protest when she held her hand up to silence him. In that moment she looked more like a queen than she had in her entire life. “But, do not blame him, daddy. It was his father that put him up to all of this. His father that has thirsted for power although he is already corrupt with greed. If anyone should be harmed on the day of your daughters’ weddings then it should be the Duke.” 

Duke Mantle shot up from his seat, “your highness, this is absolutely ridiculous slander against-” 

King Jones started to laugh at once and all in attendance stared at him. “What’s wrong, Marty? Are you that eaten up about your bastard son being a prince? Does him potentially becoming king instead of your royal heir that you will do anything to dethrone him? You are such a vile, sad man and I agree with my future daughter-in-law. If anyone here is guilty of wrongdoing, then it is you. King Owens, for his heinous actions against both of our courts, I suggest you strip Duke Mantle of all of his titles and honors. Do with his claimed heir as you will.” 

King Owens, flabbergasted with the turn of events stared in shock at King Jones. Was he truly okay with all of this? Was the decision truly his? Shanna’s words rang in his ears painfully. “It is settled.” He said finally, looking back at the bride and groom. “Lillian, you will marry Prince Forsythe who will ascend the throne after me. Shanna, despite your show today of how great of a leader you could be, I will allow you to step down and marry Prince Nathaniel. If this is what the both of you truly want, then so be it.” 

His dark and stormy eyes met that of the Duke who had suddenly gone pale. “As for you, I hereby renounce your title as Duke of the Northside. Reginald, you may take your father’s title if you wish but he is to be banished from the kingdom. I will not allow his scheming to continue on my soil.” 

Reggie sat down slowly, in utter shock at the King’s decree. He would be duke? Then his father...He’d finally be rid of his father? A grin broke onto his face. “Thank you, your highness for your mercy.” 

King Owens nodded curtly. “Shanna, switch places with Lily. Let the wedding commence.” 

Happy tears were streaming down Lily’s face. Her waterproof makeup set in place as she joined Jughead at the altar. Without any more objections the two were wed. And then, in place of an entire second wedding, Shanna and Sweet Pea were wed on the spot next after switching places. 

No one in the kingdom had seen the dark prince smile as he had that day. It was the dawn of a new era and their happiness would reign.

Tag List: @the-gargoyle-queen​, @wayward-river​, @redhairdontcare732​, @southside-vixen​, @iamaunicorn4704​, @jezzabelleserpent​

[introverted-and-unhinged]

I’m in Love with a Girl I Hate - Riverdale

Summary: Y/n and Sweet Pea don’t get along, and the whole crew is about to find out why.

A/n: I just finished my first semester of grad school, and I’ve gotten an A on 2/3 of my classes this semester. So, here’s a little something to celebrate. I might turn this into a series?

WC: 4681

Y/n’s POV

Growing up on the Southside of Riverdale when you weren’t a serpent’s kid was a little strange. Even as a kid, you were aware of all the secrecy, all the things the other kids understood that you couldn’t. Being Toni’s cousin has its perks; though, and you weren’t completely out of the loop. When you were younger, in elementary school, your house was the go-to hang out spot because your parents were actually home to watch you and your friends. Even now, Toni and Fangs spent a ton of time at your place, especially on Tuesday nights when your dad made his famous taco bar spread, complete with beef and chicken, three types of cheese, sautéed veggies, and his homemade salsa and guacamole. Your mouth was already watering as you walked up to them both standing in front of Sweet Pea.

“Come on, man,” Fangs said to him. “Put your differences aside for one night and join us for dinner like you used to.”

“Fangs, I only ever went because my mom made me, and she’s not here to do that now. So, I’ll just see you at the Wyrm later.”

With that, Sweet Pea left, brushing your shoulder as he passed.

“Why do you even try anymore, Fangs?” you asked him. “Pea and I have never gotten along.”

“I don’t know why,” Fangs mumbled, opening his locker. “You two have more in common than you think.”

“That’s probably why.” Toni cut in. “Sweet Pea probably can’t stand that y/n can read him like a book.”

“Still,” Fangs said with a nod. “it would probably be good for him to have someone that understands him that well in his life.”

“Are you kidding me?” You asked. “We would drive each other insane.”

Toni and Fangs just looked at each other and smiled as you walked to your first class, English, in which you had a pop quiz. After class, Fangs followed you and Toni out of class, complaining.

“That pop quiz was so brutal,” he said as Sweet Pea fell into step next to him after leaving his class across the hall. “Like, how am I supposed to remember which of the main character’s family members wasn’t in the dream he had at the end of the first chapter?”

“His mom.” You and Sweet Pea answered at the same time.

“Okay. That was creepy,” Fangs said as you and Pea eyed one another.

“Glad to know I shouldn’t have a problem with that quiz when I have to take it later today.” Sweet Pea said stopping at his locker.

Toni and Fangs stopped on either side of him while you kept walking, leaving them with little more than a nod and a wave. Just before you were out of earshot, you overheard Sweet Pea warning Fangs about not asking him to join you for dinner at your house again, and you just shook your head. Fangs was right about you and Pea having some things in common, at least. You were both stubborn as hell, and you were pretty prideful too. That’s why, at the beginning of high school, when Sweet Pea had decided that he didn’t like you anymore, you never fought back. If he wasn’t going to give you the time of day, you weren’t going to give him any satisfaction by showing any emotion about it. After a while, it stopped hurting your ego anyway.

Sure, you and Sweet Pea both hung out with Fangs and Toni, and you interacted with each other when absolutely necessary, usually only to criticize one another, but you didn’t really know each other that well. That’s why you were so confused when he was waiting for you outside your class after the bell without Toni or Fangs flanking him. Honestly, you thought for a moment that he was waiting for someone else, but you were convinced otherwise when he reached out for your shoulder and turned you around as you walked past him.

“Hey, y/n, wait,” he said as you turned to face him.

“Oh? Do we actually talk to each other now?”

“Look, I’m just here to do you a favor,” Sweet Pea said, holding his hands up with his palms facing you.

“What could you possibly do for me?” you cut him off.

“If you would fucking let me finish a sentence for once, I could tell you,” he bit back.

You crossed your arms over your chest in response nodding at him to continue.

“Mantle said something at practice the other day about planning some big thing to ask you to the homecoming dance, and I know you hate shit like that. He’s in the rec room setting shit up now, so steer clear, I guess.”

“Oh, um, thanks, Sweet Pea,” you said rubbing the back of your neck. “That’s actually really nice.”

“Yeah. Whatever,” he said looking down at his feet.

You adjusted your back pack on your shoulder and headed straight for the rec room.

“Did you not listen to a thing I just said?” Sweet Pea called after you.

“I got this!” you shouted over your shoulder, not turning around to see him let out a huge sigh.

You marched into the rec room to see Reggie and some of his jock friends hanging a huge banner on the wall. You leaned on the doorframe and cleared your throat loudly, causing the boys to whip their heads around to look at you. Reggie tried to jump in front of the banner, barely even covering up your name.

“Y/n!” he shouted, “You’re supposed to be at lunch.”

“Yeah, I was going to go until someone told me that you were in here doing all this,” you said waving your hand at the banner.

“Who told you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, walking fully into the rec room. “Look, Reggie, I really hate big displays like this.”

His face started to fall as you spoke, and his buddies let the end of the banner that hadn’t yet been taped to the wall slip.

“But,” you continued, “I would love to go to the homecoming dance with you.”

A smile spread across Reggie’s face, and you leaned against the back of the couch next to you. He closed the distance between the two of you, placing his hands on the back of the couch on either side of you. You could feel his breath on your cheeks as he leaned toward you.

“Really?” he asked.

You nodded, placing your right hand on his shoulder as you bit your lip before laying a soft kiss on his lips. Reggie smiled against your lips as he placed a hand on your hip and pulled you closer to him. You and Reggie had hooked up a few times at some parties, but you had never kissed each other sober let alone in a room full of his teammates. A couple of the guys let out hollers as he deepened the kiss and you grabbed at his hair with your fingers. From the doorway, you heard Toni let out an “aww” that caused you to pull away from Reggie. She stood leaning in the door way with Fangs and Sweet Pea behind her.

“Gross,” Sweet Pea said before turning and walking away toward the cafeteria.

You rolled your eyes at him as Toni and Fangs walked up to you. Fangs clapped Reggie on the shoulder and gave him a nod while Toni pulled you into a hug and squealed. You laughed as she gushed about how she was waiting for you and Reggie to get past the drunk hookup stage of your relationship. Reggie smiled and put his arm around your shoulder.

“I think we have enough time to dip and go to Pop’s for lunch since I don’t have to set up all this shit anymore,” Reggie said to you.

You nodded and waved at Fangs and Toni as you and Reggie walked out to the parking lot.

Sweet Pea’s POV

“Where’s y/n?” I asked as Toni and Fangs sat down at the lunch table.

“She and Reggie went to Pop’s instead,” Toni replied with a smile.

“He’s one lucky son of a bitch,” I said, causing Toni and Fangs to raise their eyebrows at me.

“Oh, yeah?” Fangs asked.

“I mean he’s lucky he got away with pulling something like that and y/n still saying she’d go to the dance with him. Don’t go imagining things that aren’t there, Fangs.”

“She would’ve said yes either way. They have been hooking up for a while now,” Toni said.

 “Really?”

“Yeah, you’d know that if you didn’t boycott every activity involving y/n,” Fangs snapped.

“Like you really want the two of us arguing at a party,” I scoffed. “I just wouldn’t have pegged Reggie as y/n’s type, to be honest.”

“And what would you think y/n’s type is, Sweet Pea?” Toni asked.

“Tall, dark, and Serpent perhaps?” Fangs added.

 I rolled my eyes and took a bite of my sandwich, shaking my head ‘no.

“Sure,” Toni said, “go ahead and avoid the question by stuffing your face.”

           Toni and Fangs spent the rest of lunch pushing the issue, suggesting that I had some sort of secret feelings for y/n.

           “Come on, Sweets,” Toni said, “Don’t you remember when we were like six and y/n broke her arm while we were climbing around the rocks by Sweet Water River?”

           “Yeah. She slipped on a rock. So what?”

           “So she didn’t shed a tear, and you cried the whole way to the hospital because, and I quote ‘My best friend’s arm is going to fall off,’” Fangs jumped in, whining as he mocked little Sweet Pea’s crying.

           “And,” Toni added, “You carried her teddy bear around her for over a month until she got her cast off.”

           “Then there was the time we had to act out ‘The Princess and the Frog’ in class, and you threw a full on fit because you thought you were going to have to kiss y/n,” Fangs said.

           “That doesn’t sound like it helps prove your point,” I said with a smirk.

           “You weren’t upset because you didn’t want to kiss her. You were upset because you wanted to save your first kiss with y/n until your wedding,” Toni reminded him.

           “That definitely sounds like a lie,” I said.

           “It’s not. You also punched Jimmy Smith in the gut in fourth grade because he told you y/n was too pretty for you.”

           “Because no one is ‘too pretty’ for me,” I spat placing air quotes around the words “too pretty.”

           “No one?” Fangs questioned.

           “Okay, maybe Heidi Klum,” I mumbled.

Toni and Fangs continued to list off every childhood memory they could think of to prove their point that I, at some point in life, had feelings for y/n. There were still fifteen minutes left of lunch by the time I got up and walked out of the cafeteria, having heard enough. I went to my locker and grabbed the books I needed to do my homework, deciding I was just going to skip the rest of the day. The front doors to the school flew open just as I was about to push them, and y/n and Reggie came through laughing and carrying milkshakes. I slid to the side to keep from running right into y/n and knocking her milkshake to the ground.

           “Oops. Sorry, Pea,” she said looking up at me and slipping through the door.

           The way she looked up at me through her bangs had me reliving each story Fangs and Toni had just brought up before I remembered one of my own. The one where y/n looked up at me in exactly the same way after both our names had been drawn to play Seven Minutes in Heaven during our first high school party. “I’m sorry, Sweets. I- I can’t,” she had whispered. I stood in the middle of the room with everyone staring at me as I watched her walk out the door. That was the last night I could remember us being friends. I pushed past her and Reggie with a wave of my hand and stormed through the parking lot toward my bike.

           “Did he look mad to you?” Reggie asked y/n.

           “Honestly, when does he not?” she asked.

Y/n’s POV

           You and Reggie walked into the rec room hand in hand and sat on the couch next to Fangs. Toni and Cheryl sat together on the chair next to the couch, looking at something on Cheryl’s phone and laughing.

           “Hey,” you said. “Did something happen at lunch? Sweet Pea looked kind of pissed when we passed him coming in from the parking lot.”

           Toni and Fangs looked at one another with wide eyes.

           “He left before free period? You don’t think we took it too far, do you?” Fangs asked Toni.

           “I mean, anything is possible,” Toni shrugged.

           “Took what too far?” Reggie asked, leaning forward and taking another sip of his milkshake.

           Toni and Fangs looked at you, then at each other, and back a few times before they started muttering and speaking over one another. You, Cheryl, and Reggie just exchanged confused glances as you tried to decipher what they were saying. It proved to be of little use because all you could here were a series of ums and wells between long, quick sentences run together so haphazardly that it sounded like they were speaking another language.

           “Wait,” Cheryl commanded. “Slow down and speak one at a time. TT, you start.”

           “Well, um, Fangs and I were just giving Sweet Pea a hard time at lunch is all.”

           “A hard time about what?” you asked, sighing and thinking you were pretty sure you already knew the answer.

           “We, um, well, we may or may not have listed all the reasons we think he has feelings for y/n,” Fangs confessed.

           Reggie choked on his milkshake and sat up straight with wide eyes. He continued to cough as you rubbed his back and shot Fangs a look.

           “Exactly how many reasons are there?” Reggie asked between coughs.

           “Well, we started with the time y/n broke her arm on the rocks by Sweet Water River,” Fangs said.

           “Dude! We were six,” you replied.

           “But he carried your teddy bear around for you for like a month!” Fangs defended, “Then we talked about the princess and the frog fiasco.”

           “The what fiasco?” Reggie asked, causing you to turn to him and place your hand on his knee as you explained.

           “I’m not exactly sure how they think that proves their point, though,” you said rolling your eyes.

           “Well, there’s another detail you don’t know about, y/n,” Toni mumbled.

           “Which would be?”

           Your cousin looked down at her hands and picked at her nails. You looked over at Fangs with an eyebrow raised, but he was avoiding eye contact with you too. Toni spoke up after you leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms over your chest,

           “The reason Sweet Pea was so upset about the thought of kissing you is because he wanted to save his first kiss with you until your wedding.”

           “What the hell, T?” you asked, unable to hold back your laughter as you spoke, “What does that prove? We were in the first grade! That’s the most ridiculous-”

           “Hold up,” Reggie cut in, “Sweet Pea said he was going to marry y/n?”

           “Reggie, we were in the first grade. Kids talk about that shit all the time like they even know what it means,” you shot back.

           “Sweet Pea?” he asked again.

           “Yeah,” Fangs said, “then he swore me and Toni to secrecy.”

           “I’m not saying Sweet Pea and I are close or anything. Really, we just play basketball together, but I know for a fact marriage is one thing the dude takes seriously.”

           “And how would you know that?” you asked.

           “Well, we have this tradition for initiating new team members where we get them really drunk and ask a bunch of super personal, embarrassing questions.”

           “If Pea was drunk, you can’t trust a word he said,” you, Toni, and Fangs said in unison.

           “That’s the thing,” Reggie continued, “Sweet Pea was the only new guy who wasn’t drunk. He told us all it should’ve been enough that he came to the initiation bull shit in the first place considering there was quote “no way in hell” it was tougher then his Serpent initiation had been.”

           “Sounds about right,” Fangs muttered.

           “Anyway, he about beat the shit out of Chad when he said the worst thing he ever did was propose to his girlfriend in front of all her friends as part of a prank. I’m talking slammed the dude against the wall and went straight for his neck while screaming about how that’s one thing a man should never joke about. When we finally pried Sweet Pea off him all he said was that playing with someone else’s emotions like that wasn’t cool, that it wasn’t okay to build up a person’s trust like that and then embarrass them in front of all their friends.”

           The room fell silent, and somehow you knew you were the only one who could break it.

           “I don’t think that has anything to do with me, though. Sweet Pea and I haven’t been friends for like two and a half years, way before we even came to Riverdale High,” you said. “And even if he did have a crush on me in the first grade, I don’t think he would’ve held onto that until now. Trust me, he hates me now.”

           “But do you hate him?” Cheryl asked.

           “That’s a good question,” Reggie said turning to you, “I know you pretty well, and from what I’m hearing, it sounds like you and Sweet Pea have a long history with each other.”

           “We grew up in the same place. My mom used to watch all the kids in the neighborhood.”

           “He’s right, y/n,” Toni said. “You’re not the kind of person to just give up on someone. It’s like one day you and Sweet Pea were super close, and the next, it was like you two barely knew each other.”

           “You’ll have to ask him about that. I just went along with it, I guess.”

           “Why?”

           “Well, because he was mad at me, and I didn’t know how to make him not be mad anymore,” you admitted.

           “Do you know why he was mad at you?”

           “No,” you said, thinking about the last time you really talked to Sweet Pea. There was a sense of guilt you weren’t quite able to place.

           “When did you stop being friends?” Reggie asked.

           “It was like the beginning of freshman year,” you said, “right after- Oh shit.”

           “Right after what?”

           “Right after our first high school party. Toni and Fangs couldn’t go, so I begged Sweet Pea to come with me, and I um, I kind of left him there.”

           Your voice started to trail off at the end of the sentence as you finally remembered exactly what had happened that night.

           “Wait. Shit. I remember that,” Fangs said. “He came to my house after you left. He was pissed.”

           “I’d be pissed too,” you admitted, “if my best friend left me at a party where I barely knew anyone because she was too afraid to tell me she had accidentally gotten really drunk.”

           “You accidentally got drunk?” Reggie asked.

           “Oh, shut up! It was my first party ever. I had no idea what I was doing, and I got drunk. Then, I got embarrassed about being drunk, and my anxiety made me feel like I was definitely going to puke, so I ran outside. Some junior girls outside said that the best way to avoid throwing up was to keep drinking, and I think I blacked out. God, I probably seemed like a total bitch the next day because I had no idea what happened.”

           You put your empty milkshake cup on the table in font of you and laid your head on your knees, wrapping you arms around it to try and hide from the room full of people who were looking at you. When you finally looked up again a couple minutes later, Fangs was biting at his nails.

           “Why are you doing that?” you asked him, knowing it was something he did only when he was really nervous or uncomfortable.

           “You still don’t have the whole story, y/n,” he said. “Sweet Pea came to me house fuming because you had ditched him right after Jessica pulled both your names to play Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

           Your face quickly turned bright red as the memory hit you like a ton of bricks.

           “Okay, now even I’m convinced that Sweet Pea has feelings for y/n,” Reggie said sadly, looking you in the eye, “The poor dude probably thought you left because you didn’t want to kiss him.”

           “That’s exactly what he thought,” a voice called from the doorway to the rec room.

It was Sweet Pea’s. Everyone slowly turned their head to look at him, all their cheeks blushing in either embarrassment or nervousness. You and Sweet Pea locked eyes over Reggie’s head, and your started to water. You were feeling a rush of guilt, embarrassment, apology, and pain. The mix of emotions bubbled up in your chest and started to push the air our of your throat. Legs shaking, you stood up and made your way across the room, stopping in front of Sweet Pea and looking up at him.

“I- I’m sorry, Sweets,” you whispered choking on your breath, “I can’t.”

Tears started pouring down your cheeks as your whole body started to jitter. You crossed your arms over your stomach as you started wheezing. The sound of your lungs struggling to suck in air in short bursts overwhelmed the room, and you suddenly realized that everyone was staring at you with concern. Without thinking, you bolted from the rec room, ran across the hall, and locked yourself in a dark, empty classroom. As you slid down with your back against the door and curled into yourself, you heard Toni call out, “Shit! She’s having an anxiety attack.”

The sounds of your friends shuffling across the hall covered the click of the second door to the classroom closing a few feet to your left after Sweet Pea had slipped inside. He waved them away through the window before sitting cross legged on the floor in front of you. Outside the door, Toni, Cheryl, Fangs, and Reggie walked back into the rec room. Once he sat back down on the couch, Reggie pulled out his phone to text Sweet Pea. The message read: Go for it. I won’t be mad.

Sweet Pea’s POV

My phone buzzed just as I took it out of my pocket. I glanced at a message from Reggie on the lit-up screen and rolled my eyes. I clicked the lock button and set it down beside me as I reached out for y/n. With a low chuckle, I tapped my knuckles on her shin as if I were knocking on a door. She pulled her feet toward her and folded her legs like mine, looking up at me and wiping her eyes. I scooted toward her and placed my hands on her knees; her body was still shaking.

“Shhh,” I whispered, “You have more of a reason to be mad at me than I do to be mad at you.”

“I’m such a,” she choked out, “such a bitch.”

“No, you’re not,” I whispered, shifting to sit next to her and pull her into my chest. “You didn’t know what happened, and instead of talking to you about it, I’ve spent the past two years being mad at you, being mean to you.”

“But I hurt you,” y/n cried into my chest, her shaking beginning to subside as I ran my hand up and down her arm and rocked us back and forth. “I was a shitty friend, and I hurt you. And I didn’t even know it.”

“You didn’t hurt me any more than I hurt myself by not saying anything,” I said honestly. “I’m sorry, y/n. I should’ve just talked to you instead of throwing our entire friendship away.”

“I would’ve done the same thing. Actually, I kind of did. I never talked to you either. I just assumed you hated me.”

“I’ve never hated you, y/n,” I said feeling a heat rise in my chest. If I could’ve stepped out of my body and kicked my own ass in that moment, I would have. “I was just-“

“Hurt?”

“Yeah, I was hurt, and I didn’t handle it well. I’m really sorry. Honestly, it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and that’s saying something because I shot an arrow through Toni’s tent last week just for shits and gigs.”

Y/n sat up and wiped her eyes as he laughed at me. I moved my arms from around her and folded my hands in my lap.

“I’m sorry too.”

“It’s fine. We can talk about it more later if you want, but I think you should go tell the rest of your friends that everything is ok.”

Y/n paused for a second and looked down at her hands.

“They’re still,” she whispered. “How did you?”

“You used to have anxiety attacks all the time when we were kids. If I could get you talking through it, they usually ended pretty fast.”

“I did? I don’t remember.”

“Yeah, you did,” I nodded. “Now go let everyone else know you’re good.”

I watched as y/n walked into the rec room, stopping in the middle of the hallway to wipe her eyes one last time. She walked quietly into the room and sat down next to Reggie, placing her head on his shoulder. His gaze snapped to me as I turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” he asked as the bell rang.

“It’s the end of free period,” I said, “I’m going home.”

“Why did you come back?”

“I forgot I was going to have a pop quiz in English today. I told Mr. Thomas I had a doctor’s appointment and asked if I could take it early and still get credit.”

“Why did you stop here?”

“I heard Fangs loud ass telling all my secrets and was gonna kick his ass,” I shrugged. “Timing, I guess.”

“Are you still gonna-” Fangs started, but Reggie interrupted him.

“Did you get my text?”

“Doesn’t matter, dude.”

“Yes, it does,” Reggie said, getting up off the couch next to y/n.

I started walking away, hoping Reggie would just leave it, but he jogged in front of me and cut me off before I could turn the corner. I could see everyone else spilling out of the rec room and weaving through the sea of students trying to get to their next class. Fangs craned his neck above the crowd, trying to focus in on the conversation Reggie and I were having.

“I told you I wouldn’t be mad,” Reggie said.

“I know,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“So you did read my text.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And I’m serious, man.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said right as the warning bell rang and the halls cleared out again, allowing Toni, Cheryl, Fangs, and y/n to come up behind Reggie.

When he looked over his shoulder at them, I took the opportunity to step out of his blockade and start heading for the door again.

“You and y/n clearly have feelings for one another, and I’m not going to be the one that gets in the way of that,” Reggie called after me.

“You already asked her to homecoming, bro. She likes you. Have fun,” I called back before walking out the front door of the school.

I heard running behind me as I approached my bike. Turning, ready to yell in Reggie’s face to back off, I locked eyes with a much smaller figure.

“You didn’t deny it,” y/n said, stepping toward me.

[broken-wingedbird]

Untitled WIP (Sweet Pea x OC)

This is a Riverdale fic that I started and haven’t finished yet. I have a few ideas for how I want it to go. Looking for feedback! Give me your thoughts, corrections, ideas, etc. This is unedited so there may will be mistakes.

Summary: After leaving Riverdale for five years, Sweet Pea returns and finds that he is not as welcome as he hoped he would be. The girl he loved has moved on with her life and is keeping a secret from him.

"You can't just come back and act like everything's fine- like nothing happened. Not after what you did."

"I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Never wanted to hurt me? Hah! You did more than just hurt me, Sweet Pea. You destroyed me. I couldn't get out of bed for weeks. I spent countless sleepless nights wondering what I'd done to deserve it- wondering if everything you'd ever said to me had been a lie. But eventually I moved on. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Because I was left to clean up your mess and to be the responsible one. Like always. You have no idea how hard these last 5 years have been for me." For what seemed like the first time in his life, he was quiet. He didn't know what to say. He thought he was doing the right thing when he'd left all those years ago. He was just trying to protect her. But as soon as he'd left he knew he'd made a mistake. He couldn't go back though. Not after how he'd left things. He knew he'd never be able to fix what he'd broken between them, but he thought that maybe, after all this time, he could at least try to put some of the pieces back together.

She shook her head, still unable to believe that he'd dared to return to the place they had once called home together, the place where their love had started and ended. It was truly a cursed place. Nothing good ever came from it. Except one thing.

"If you'll excuse me," she said, "I have somewhere I need to be."

And with that, she spun on her heel and headed in the opposite direction.

He sighed and went back inside the bar. His old friends gave him sympathetic smiles as they tried to comfort him. They may not have agreed with him, but they knew why he left. They'd tried to convince him to stay, knowing the secret she had been keeping from him, but it was all for naught. He had to protect her from what was coming his way. He couldn't be around her, or any of his friends, when it happened.

She got to her car and sat in the driver's seat, feeling the pain that she'd felt when he left bubbling to the surface once again until it took over her whole body. And she let it. She let herself shed tears for him once more. The man she'd once loved, whom she thought she'd spend the rest of her life with, who shattered her heart into a million pieces right when she needed him the most, had returned. She thought she'd never see him again. And she was okay with that. Because she knew seeing him would break her heart all over again. Yet here he was. And here she was. Crying, once again, over the father of her child.

When she finally composed herself, she wiped the smeared mascara from under her eyes and started her car. She had already been running late before he showed up. She drove to the Northside, parking at the Pembrook, where her best friend lived. She went upstairs and let herself in with the spare key she had.

"Mommy!" the little girl said happily, getting up from the dining room table and running over to her.

Maggie smiled and picked her up, kissing her on the cheek. "Hi princess! Did you have fun with Auntie V today?"

She nodded. "She took me to the movies and then she took me to Pop's and we had milkshakes! I told her that you never let me have milkshakes and she said you weren't any fun."

"Katie, you promised you wouldn't tell her I said that," Veronica laughed as she walked over to her and gave her a hug.

"Oopsie," Katie giggled as her mom put her down. She ran back to the table to finish the picture she had been coloring.

Veronica barely had to look at her friend to know something had happened. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly, not wanting Katie to hear their conversation.

"He's back," Maggie whispered, barely able to get the words out.

That's all Veronica needed to hear to know exactly what was going on. She led her to the couch, where they sat next to each other.

"You saw him?" she asked.

Maggie nodded. "At the Wyrm. He got there right as I was leaving. He tried to apologize."

"What did you say? Did you tell him about Katie?"

"No. I couldn't. I can't. He can't know. I can't let him leave her the same way he left me."

"You can't hide her from him forever. The Southside isn't that big and people talk. Either someone's going to tell him or he's going to see her. Either way, he'd going to find out. But it'd be better coming from you."

"Or I can not tell him and hope he leaves sooner rather than later."

"Maggie…"

She sighed. "I just don't want him to hurt her."

Veronica wrapped her arms around her friend, pulling her into a hug.

"It won't be easy, but he deserves to know," she said quietly.

Maggie nodded and pulled away. "I'll talk to him. I just have to figure out what to say."

"It'll be okay." Veronica assured her with a soft smile.

Maggie stood up. "I should get her home. It's late."

Veronica stood as well and they walked to the table.

"It's time to go, sweetie," Maggie said. "Let's pack up your things."

"But I wanna stay with Auntie V," the girl whined.

She chuckled. "You'll see her again in a few days. You have school in the morning though and it's already past your bedtime."

"I told you she's no fun," Veronica joked as she helped collect Katie's things.

"Thanks, V," Maggie laughed.

They said their goodbyes and Maggie drove them back to the Southside, to Sunnyside Trailer Park.

Parking in front of her trailer, she noticed a familiar bike next door. His bike. She sighed and took Katie inside quickly, trying to avoid being seen.

After bathing her and getting her ready for bed, she tucked her into bed and was reading her a bedtime story when there was a knock on the door.

"Stay here, baby," she said, getting up, "I'll be right back."

She got up and prayed that he wasn't at the door. But, with her luck, he was.

"What are you doing here?" Maggie asked in a hushed tone.

"I just want to talk." Sweet Pea replied.

"Now's not really a good time. I'm busy."

"Please. Just five minutes. Let me explain myself. And if you still want nothing to do with me, I'll leave you alone."

She sighed and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

"You can have two minutes."

"We can't talk inside? It's cold out and you're not wearing a jacket."

"No," she said sternly. She was actually freezing, seeing as it was the middle of January, but Katie's stuff was scattered around the trailer and she didn't want him to see it, nor did she want her daughter to hear them talking.

He sighed. "I was trying to protect you. I got caught up in some stuff and I messed up. I was in trouble.”

This time, she was the one who didn’t know what to say. She sat down on the steps and tried to process what he’d just told her.

He sat next to her quietly.

“What did you do?” She asked after a while.

“I was trying to make some extra money. 

"Did you have to make it hurt so much though? I get that you were trying to do what you thought was best, but did you have to be so cruel?"

"I had to make sure you didn't try to come after me. I didn't know how else to keep you from following me."

"Do you understand just how badly you hurt me, Sweet Pea? I needed you. And you know what you said? You said you didn't care. You said you couldn't care less about my problems anymore. My problems weren't your problems and I needed to stop acting like they were."

"Maggie, I will be apologizing for this for the rest of my life. But I had to keep you safe. I didn't have any other options."

"You could have told me!" She stood up and started pacing. "You could have told me you were in trouble. I would have helped you get out of town. I would have done everything I could to help."

"I couldn't let you get involved."

"What about the others? Did they know about this? Toni, and Fangs, and Jughead? Did they know?"

He was silent.

She scoffed. "You are unbelievable."

Suddenly the door cracked open.

"Mommy?" A small voice said. The two of them looked to see Katie peeking out at them.

"I'll be right there, hon. Go back to bed please." Maggie said with a forced smile, not wanting Katie to see that she was upset. She waited for the door to close again before looking back at Sweet Pea. "I need to get her to sleep. Can you please leave?"

"Maggie…" He said quietly.

"I don't have time to talk right now." "Maggie, is she my daughter?"

"I told you I don't have time to talk. Please leave." She tried to walk past him, but he stood and blocked her.

"Is she my daughter?" He asked again, more sternly this time.

"Yes, Sweet Pea," she cried out, exasperated. "She's your daughter. I tried to tell you but you said my problems weren't your problems anymore. And then you left."

"Babe… if I'd known…"

"Stop. I'm not your 'babe' and you don't need to lie to me. It wouldn't have changed anything. You still would have walked away from us. You still would have left me alone to raise a child, our child."

"I would have tried to do things differently. I would have… I don't know, sent you money or called you, made sure you were both alright and taken care of."

She rolled her eyes. "We've done just fine without you, without your money or your help. And we are taken care of. Katie is the most loved little girl in all of Riverdale. All of the Serpents and the Poisons, and Veronica and Achie, and, hell, even Reggie, have been here for us, babysitting and helping me keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. Now, I have asked you nicely, to leave. But if you don't, I will not hesitate to call the cops."

And with that, she pushed past him and went back inside.

Katie was sitting on the bed that they shared, waiting for her to join her.

"Mommy, who was that man?" she asked as she crawled back under the covers.

"Just an old friend." Maggie replied, handing her daughter a teddy bear- a teddy bear Sweet Pea had gifted her back when they were dating.

"Did he make you mad?" the girl questioned.

"No, baby. Not at all. We just had a little disagreement. But everything is fine. Let's finish reading that story so you can go to sleep." She smiled and picked the book up off of the night stand.

When she finished the book, she looked over to see Katie sound asleep. She kissed her head and turned the light off before walking out of the room and into the living room. She peeked out the front door to see if Sweet Pea had left. She was both relieved and disappointed to see that he was gone. She didn't want him around, not after what he'd done, but at the same time she wanted him back in her life. She missed him more than anything. And the fact that Katie looked just like him didn't make things easier.

She sighed and locked the door. She got ready for bed and curled up under the covers next to her daughter.

[bastionkeeper]

Write a short story about the first thing you see out the window!

It’s nighttime so my vision was slightly limited so all I saw was the window lit up next door. Also this isn’t a short story anymore cause I went way off the rails and got super into it and it got away from me and now this is a preview for a story I want to write asdlfkjasd;lfkj hope its good please tell me your thoughts guys is this worth writing more of cause I wanna.

The light in the house next door hadn’t gone off for several days now.

Normally, seeing the lights on in a neighbor’s house was no cause for alarm. In fact, one normally liked to see the neighborhood illuminated on a dark night, it brought a sense of safety and a false guarantee that no harm would come knocking on the door that looking to pilfer your Playstation. However, Lacey knew that the old man next door went to bed early, and that he turned off each light in his house one by one at 7 p.m. sharp.

Only one light was on, the one shining in the window across from Lacey’s living room. The only reason she noticed it was that her insomnia had worsened and she found herself spending several nights sitting on the couch searching for a show on Netflix that would fill up the emptiness in her chest with a story.

“Do you think he’s okay, Fizzgig?” she asked her cat, a lazy brown thing made of impressive weight and unmanageable tufts of fur. He was laying on the windowsill, glaring out the window seeing nighttime creatures only a cat’s eyes could see.

Fizzgig had no opinion on the matter, but he meowed anyway because that was just the polite thing to do when a human attempted to communicate with you.

“Yeah, he’s probably fine,” she said. “Maybe it just takes too much energy to get to that room these days, so he just leaves it on.”

Fizzgig batted at moth foolish enough to draw near him.

Lacey moved back to the couch, throwing her legs up on the coffee table and starting her Netflix browse again. However, as she searched for a show, she found herself skimming over titles without reading them. Her eyes kept being drawn back to the light in the window.

“... maybe I should go check on him?” Lacey mused. “I don’t want to do that. That’s weird right? Or is that just neighborly? Neighbors really don’t do that anymore, huh? I say that like I was around for the time neighbors hung out because we didn’t have streaming television. Not that technology is evil, just that it has the capacity for desocialization.”

Fizzgig was used to his owner yowling in such a manner. She got excited easily, and he found the best way to rectify this problem was to hop up onto her lap until she quieted down, her fingers finding their way to the soft spot behind his ear for some quality scratches.

“But he is really old…” Lacey said. “... if he’d fallen and couldn’t get up, and I could have helped him, but I didn’t cause anxiety, and then he died-! I would never be able to sleep again.”

Fizzgig complained loudly as Lacey stood, lifting him in her arms. She deposited him back on the couch and moved to the front door. She was still in her pajamas-shorts worn thin by age and a tank top with a popular anime character on it-but she grabbed a jacket from the hook to throw over them before stepping into a pair of sandals by the door.

“Be good, Fizzgig, protect my stuff,” Lacey said as she left.

Fizzgig watched her leave, before ignoring her orders in favor of chasing after the damned moth he’d decided was his ultimate rival.

Lacey shivered as she walked down the sidewalk and up the rickety steps leading to her neighbor’s front porch. It was strangely cold for a July night, and for a moment she even thought she saw her breath. She drew her jacket closer as she rang the doorbell.

No answer.

She waited a few minutes, then rang the doorbell again, and again there was no answer.

“Hello?” Lacey called, peeking in through the front window. The curtains were drawn, but she could see a bit of the room beyond through a slight gap in between them. Was that the figure of a fallen old man in there or was it just the shadows playing tricks on her?

“I’m not a home invader!” Lacey said, for anyone who might be watching, before trying the doorknob.

The door was unlocked, and opened with a creak. Lacey almost turned tail right then and there, as dark houses and creaking doors were two things she did not want to encounter alone. However, she could see the one illuminated room in the distance, and the thought of leaving someone who needed help scared her a lot more than ghosts.

Or maybe ghosts were scarier, but still.

She tip-toed across the darkened living room, moved through a dark hallway sticking close to the wall as if she could sink into it if danger came.

“Mister?” she called out. “Are you in here?”

She crept closer to the illuminated room, the dining room it looked like. Her heartbeat rang in her ears.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” she whispered to herself. “Ghosts only show up in scary movies and webcomics, and this is real life. I can’t have an origin story I just finished college I’m supposed to go into debt and find a roommate on craigslist and hope I don’t get axe murdered.”

Lacey took her final step into the dining room.

“Oh my god,” she said.

Then she screamed.

The old man was laying on the floor, his limbs bent in a way that didn’t look comfortable and clearly not breathing. He might have been dead. He was probably dead.

That isn’t what made Lacey scream.

“Whoa, whoa!” the floating purple thing in the corner said, gesturing with things that might have been hands in an appeasing manner. “Don’t freak out kid, I just slipped and popped out of my guy, that’s all! No problems here, alright? No one’s gonna get haunted, no one’s gonna die! It’s all good, got it?”

“Ghost!” Lacey accused, pointing at the purple spectre.

“Yeah, okay, that’s rude,” the ghost said. “What if I was like ‘human!’ all in your face, huh?”

“I am a human,” Lacey said.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ve got a name I could use instead,” the ghost said sarcastically. “For example, I’m Reggie, hi, nice to meet ya. What’s your name?”

“I’m… I’m Lacey, sorry did you just say Reggie?”

“The fuck is wrong with Reggie?” the ghost asked.

“I just…” Lacey paused, her fear being totally overwhelmed by the absurdity of her situation. “I expected something… scarier?”

“Why would my name be scary just cause I’m a ghost?” Reggie huffed. “You don’t get a ghost name when you die you know. ‘Oh hey, welcome to the spiritual plane, here’s your ghost name, you’re Tralifax the Miserable.’ I got a regular person name, okay?”

“That sounds like an alien name,” Lacey said.

“Sorry, I wasn’t really thinking of ghost names when you broke into my house, I wasn’t expecting to have to come up with one on the spot,” Reggie huffed. “Look… I need you to do me a favor while you’re here, okay?”

“A… favor?” Lacey felt dizzy, like she might fall over.

“First of all, take a deep breath,” Reggie said. “You’re hyperventilating, it’s gonna feel really shitty if you keep doing that. Next, I need you to break this jar I’m floating out of.”

“J… jar?” Lacey stammered. She looked to where Reggie was gesturing and saw that there was in fact a jar laying on its side on the floor. The purple smokey creature that called himself Reggie seemed to have a tail that stretched down into the jar.

“... if I break this are you gonna be free to kill and haunt me?” Lacey asked nervously.

“I mean, no I’m not gonna do that, but if I was I wouldn’t tell you so,” Reggie did something that must have been a shrug. “Take your chances. I’d appreciate it if you helped me but I ain’t gonna make you do something you don’t wanna.”

Lacey slowly approached the jar, glancing up at Reggie occasionally. She picked it up, and as she did Reggie seemed to adjust his position based on how the jar moved.

“... if you kill me, please feed my cat,” Lacey said, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing the jar against the ground as hard as she could.

The jar shattered, and as it did Lacey heard a loud sound like a gust of wind. When she opened her eyes, the ghost was gone, and the old man was picking himself up off the floor.

“Phew, thanks, kid,” Reggie said, his voice coming from the old man’s mouth. “Went and tripped carrying some evidence and got myself trapped. I was like that for days, it was really boring.”

Lacey felt her knees buckle underneath her, and suddenly the old man was catching her before she could hit the ground.

“Look, you sit down here, I’ll make some chamomile and I’ll explain things,” he said, pulling out one of the dining room chairs for her.

Reggie did in fact make tea, and brought it out to the table in a fancy porcelain teapot with matching teacups. He poured them each a cup, and offered Lacey a bowl of sugar cubes. She mindlessly went through the motion of stirring two of them into her tea, and only after her first sip did she speak.

“Do you have maybe something stronger?” she asked.

“What, like Earl Gray?” Reggie asked.

“Like Jack Daniels.”

“Jeez, you kids,” Reggie pulled a face. “Booze is no way to treat a panic attack. Drink your tea and take some cleansing breaths.”

Lacey did as she was told, and despite the fact that she was sitting at a table with a possessed old man, she found herself growing calmer.

“Okay,” Reggie said. “So, ghosts are real. You probably already suspected that but decided to ignore it cause it sounds scary. Sorry, but we’re real. Some dead people have unfinished business and they stick around. Nothing to be scared of really, I mean no more than you’re scared of other people. There’s ghosts of murderers and crooks, sure, but there’s ghosts of accountants and preschool teachers too. Some ghosts, like me, get lucky and make friends with a human that’s about to die totally satisfied with their lot in life. Old Percy here shed his mortal coil and bequeathed it to me so I could conduct my business tangibly on the mortal realm.”

“Wh...what are you saying…” Lacey said.

“Okay, the Sparknotes version,” Reggie groaned. “I was friends with the old guy. He croaked. Gave me his body so I could talk to humans and touch things. Need to do that for my job you see, I’m a spectral investigator and mortal mediator. I save ghosts from exorcists and people from malevolent spirits. I basically keep things nice and peaceful, and sometimes that requires saving some spiritual fellows from nasty ghost traps like that spirit jar. I brought it home to throw it in the evidence locker and tripped and wouldn’t ya know it but with my luck it didn’t shatter but I sure popped right out of Percy and into the trap.”

“You’re a ghost ghost hunter,” Lacey said.

Reggie looked at her with disdain, and sighed.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m a ghost ghost hunter,” he said. “Kinda makes my job look simple and small but if that’s what you wanna call me okay.”

Lacey sipped at her tea, and felt a bit underdressed for a ghost tea party in her pajamas.

“So,” Reggie said, pouring himself another cup. “Now that you know about me-”

“You have to kill me?” Lacey shrieked, standing up so quickly her chair fell to the ground.

“Forget the killing, no one’s killing!” Reggie shouted. “You heard me before right? I’m not the ghost of some murderer, I’m just a person! I’m talking to you, person to person, ghost to living being, and I’m asking you… if you can keep a secret.”

“... you mean, as long as I don’t tell people you’re a ghost… you won’t kill me?” Lacey asked.

“I won’t kill you even if you do tell,” Reggie said, his voice growing a little kind even though he was exasperated. “You helped me out, you’re a good kid, and I’m not a killer. Besides, if you did go around telling people the old man next door is a ghost… they wouldn’t believe you so... this secret keeping thing is really for your own good.”

Lacey cleared her throat, blushing, and put her chair back. She took a seat, making a big show of crossing her legs and placing her hands in her lap. She took a sip of her tea.

“This… ghost ghost hunting…” she said. “Does it pay well?”

“Does it pa… kid the fuck are you asking me?” Reggie groaned.

“I’m really short on rent and I’m looking for a side gig to make some extra cash,” Lacey admitted. “And it sounds like you need someone human nearby just in case stuff like this happens. And I’m terrified of ghosts but I’m more terrified of homelessness or moving back in with my parents because let’s be real capitalism is the real horror show here, so-”

“Stop.” Reggie put up a weary hand to stop her rambling. “Just… let me think about it, okay?”

“Really?” Lacey asked, surprise written all over her face. She really hadn’t been expecting anything but a refusal.

“Yeah, really,” Reggie sighed. “Go home, get some sleep-don’t think I don’t see you staying up all night watching cartoons-and tomorrow I’ll give you my answer.”

“Holy shit, wow, okay, cool,” Lacey said. “Cool, cool, co-”

“Stop talking,” Reggie said. “Home. Now. Sleep.”

“Right! Yeah! Sleep. That thing living people do aha… was that offensive?”

“Yes,” Reggie said. “Go.”

Lacey shot Reggie an awkward two finger salute before backing towards the hallway, bumping into the wall clumsily and spinning to face the way she was walking. She stumbled out of the house, and immediately had to bent over and put her hands on her knees as she gasped for breath.

“That was so fucking insane,” she gasped. “Okay, chill. Sleep time. Can’t sleep with adrenaline. Gotta calm down.”

As she straightened and made her way back to her apartment, Reggie watched her from the window. One aged hand held the curtain back as he saw the young woman trip up the stairs and look around to make sure no one had seen, before going inside.

“... well… I’m screwed,” he sighed. “I definitely gotta hire that disaster kid.”

[leiascully]

Fic:  Baseball Metaphors (13/15?)

Part One  |  Part Two  |  Part Three |  Part Four |  Part Five |  Part Six |  Part Seven |  Part Eight |  Part Nine  |   Part Ten  |  Part Eleven  |  Part Twelve

Not exactly nsfw, but mostly just talking while nude.

He wakes up to an empty bed and the sound of running water.  

"Scully?" he says, lifting his head.  

Her voice drifts in.  "In here."

He gets up, dragging his boxers back on, and wanders into the bathroom.  The tub is half-full of frothy water.  Scully is bent over adjusting the taps, wrapped in a fluffy robe.  She tests the water with her hand and smiles at him.  "Take a bath with me," she says.

"Sure," he says.  "Uh, I would like to, uh, pee first."  It's embarrassing to admit for some reason, despite the fact that she knows he evacuates waste, and he's definitely had to do weirder things in her presence.  She gets up and motions to the bathroom.

"All yours," she says.

He pees.  It's not the first time he's used her bathroom, but it's the first time after they've had sex, genuine intercourse that not even an adventurous Catholic school student could rationalize away.  He's careful with his aim and he even lowers and wipes the seat after, just in case, and then washes his hands.  When he opens the door, she's coming back from the kitchen with two glasses of ice water.  She hands one to him.

"Thanks," he says.  He is thirsty.  He takes a long swig while she fiddles with the taps and finally turns the water off.  She sips at her water and sets the glass on the sink before dropping her robe in one smooth movement.  She stands in front of him, unselfconscious, and there's nothing he can do but shed his boxers.  She's so reserved that sometimes he forgets that she's relatively practical about her body.  He assumes that has something to do with the years she's spent studying anatomy.  He takes another swallow of water and sets his glass on the other side of the sink.

"Shall we?" he says.  

She smiles and climbs carefully into the tub, tucking herself forward against the front.  He clambers in behind her and brackets her with his legs.  She leans back and the bubbles pop between his chest and her shoulders.  He lets his arms slip around her.  He doesn't know where the limits are anymore.  He'd rather be tentative than run up against some invisible boundary.  But they're naked together and in the bath with the smell of lavender rising up around them, so the rules have obviously changed.

"Mulder," she says, as if it isn't just the two of them, always.

"Hmm."  He lets his arm rub gently against her breasts and she sighs happily.

"Do you really want to marry me?"

He blows out a breath.  He can feel it deflecting off her shoulder.  "You don't mince words, do you, Scully?"

"It's expedient to get to the heart of things," she says, shaping the bubbles idly between her palms.

"Begin with a Y-incision," he says.  

"And yet you're still evading my question," she says.  

"The man I was pretending to be definitely wants to marry the woman you were pretending to be," he says thoughtfully.  

"Fair enough," she says.  "I hope the man I was in bed with wasn't pretending anything, because he stuck to the same story."

"It would be convenient in some ways," he hedges.  "I'm tired of arguing with hospital staff who won't let me see you."

"Mulder," she says firmly.  

He takes a deep breath and presses his lips to her hair.  "Yes," he says finally.  "I want to marry you."

"Why?" she asks.  "Aside from the convenience."  

"Because I fucking love you," he says.  He's frustrated and embarrassed and overwhelmed and lovelorn.  He never imagined confessing to the back of her head while they were both naked.  He feels soft around the edges, and it isn't pruning from the bathwater.   "I don't even know how long it's been.  I realized, when you were taken, but I don't know when it started.  This whole pretending-to-date thing was imaginary and then it wasn't.  Maybe it never was, for me."

"And so you proposed?" she asks.  

"I know how much this has worn on you," he says.  "I just wanted you to have a moment where you might feel like your life was falling into place, even if you thought it was pretend."

"That was kind of you," she says after a pause.  "Or at least intended well."

"You know what they say about good intentions," he says.  "But I know it's been tough on you, trying to be friends with them.  I recognize that."

"It isn't tough on you?" she asks.

"I haven't had a dream like that in a while," he says.  "The house, the family.  It didn't seem to be something I could aspire to.  So no, it wasn't hard for me.  I didn't have to pretend that I wanted to be your boyfriend.  Every week was like a glimpse of something I never imagined I could have, but I never wanted what they had."

"I see," she says.  He doesn't need to see her face to know she's wearing that serious expression, the one that refines the concept of gravitas, or maybe gravity.  

"Sorry," he says.

The water sloshes as she moves.  "Sorry for what, Mulder?"

"I don't know," he says.  "It seems unfair, that I was living out this scenario that I was invested in to a different degree than you were.  It seems like false pretenses.  You didn't really have a chance to agree to play along."

"Have you ever known me to play along when I didn't want to?" Scully asks.

He considers it.  "No."  

She snorts.  "Aren't you a profiler?"

"I play one on tv," he jokes.  

She turns, the water washing back and forth between them, and braces her hands on his thighs as she kneels on the floor of the tub.  "So," she says.  "Profile me."

"You saw your ex and panicked," he says, unable to keep himself from gazing at her.  Her skin is slick and flushed and daubed with bubbles.  "I provided a plausible cover story to alleviate your distress."

"Plausible why?" she asks.

"I'm a handsome guy," he teases.  "Not quite in your league, but it's a convincing enough match."

"And why is that, Agent Mulder?" she asks, her voice low and even.  

"Our intimacy is apparent even to strangers," he theorizes.  "Society doesn't have many models of platonic heterosexual friendship, and here I could but won't quote When Harry Met Sally.  Hence the tendency to mistake us for a couple, even a married couple."  

"And from where does that intimacy derive?" she asks.

"Whence does the principle of life proceed?" he quotes, striving for whimsy.  "We have a history.  We've shared a number of remarkable experiences, even traumatic ones.  It's made us close.  I'd hazard even closer than most partners in law enforcement.  I certainly didn't make out with Jerry or Reggie.  Or even Krycek."

"And?" she says, leaning closer.  

"And what?" he asks, extremely distracted by her approaching cleavage.

"You said yourself most partners aren't this close," she says.  "Despite their own remarkable experiences.  Why are you and I believable as a couple when other partners weren't?"

He shunts away any thought of Diana.  "I guess I'm not the profiler I thought I was.  What am I missing, Doctor Scully?"

She laughs, but it catches in her throat.  "What are you missing?"

He shrugs.  The bubbles rock on the surface of the water.  "Maybe our inside jokes give it that hint of verisimilitude.  I don't know.  I've nev...I'm not married. "

"I'm in love with you, you idiot," she says quietly.  

"What?" he says.

"I'm in love with you," she repeats.  

"Uh," he says.  

"That's not exactly the response I expected," she says, leaning away from him.  He reaches out for her.

"This is not the turn I expected my day to take," he says quickly.  "We're naked in the tub together and you're saying things I only imagined when I was drugged out of my mind, Scully.  I just need a second to process.  And maybe you should pinch me."

"I'm not going to pinch you," she says.  "Why did you hesitate when you said you weren't married?"

He sighs.  "I was engaged once.  To one of my other former partners.  Diana.  She didn't leave me at the altar, exactly, but she did take an international assignment between the engagement and the wedding.  In the year between losing her and meeting you, I threw myself into my work.  Spooky Mulder, all alone down in the basement."

He can see the pain in her eyes, the urge to retreat into herself, to swathe herself in terrycloth and detachment.  "No wonder you tried to keep me at arm's length."

"Didn't work," he says.  He catches at her fingers.  "Hey.  Scully."

"Sometimes I forget I don't know everything about you," she murmurs, not meeting his eyes.  

He kisses her damp palm.  "Now you know everything about me," he promises.  

"I didn't know you were in love with me," she says.

"I didn't know you were in love with me," he says, "so that's fair.  You talked such a good game about how much our friendship meant to you."

"It did," she says.  "It does."  She sighs.  "There was a moment in the restaurant where I was completely thrilled.  Even when I remembered that it was pretend, I loved you for doing that for me.  But it's hard to know that it wasn't the first time you'd asked someone."  

"If it helps, I didn't get down on one knee in public," he says.  "I barely proposed at all.  It was more of an agreement."

"But you gave her this ring," she says, looking at it.  

He nods.  "It didn't fit her.  Must have been a metaphor.  I got it sized for you."

She flexes her fingers.  "You knew my ring size."

"I like to think I know most things about you," he offers, "but I also believe your enigmatic nature is part of your charm."

She looks squarely at him.  "What are we going to do?"

"I thought we were going to finish our bath," he says.  "Maybe get all sweaty again almost immediately.  Decide where we wanted to have our haunted honeymoon."

"Planning the honeymoon before the wedding?" she says.  "Sounds like something there should be a superstition about."

"We don't have to," he says.  "We don't have to do any of it.  If you want me to leave, we can start again from square one or square whatever, whenever you're ready.  If you're ready.  We don't have to deal with this today."

She purses her lips.  "'This' being the fact that I'm in love with you and you're in love with me and it's possible that we're engaged despite never having actually been in an relationship?"  

"'This' was shorter," he says.  

She sighs and turns back around, settling against his chest.  He loops his arms around her and rests his cheek against her head.  It's always strange to be at odds with Scully, when all he wants when he's upset is to seek comfort in her company.  

"We could still get married," he murmurs.  

"It might not be the easiest thing to explain to my mother," she says.

"I don't know about that," he says, remembering Maggie's gentleness during Scully's abduction.  "But we could elope."

"If we did, we wouldn't have to invite Ethan and Jenny," Scully muses.  "My mother might forgive me.  Bill's wedding was enough for all of us."

"Or we could pretend none of this ever happened," he offers.  

"Are you going to walk up to me in a bar?" she teases.  "Introduce yourself, try to get a date."

"I told you, I'm not in your league."  He kisses the side of her head.  "We could stay in this bath forever."

"The water would get cold," she counters.  

"Then I guess we can mark that off the list of options," he says.  "What's left?"

"I think that covers it," she says.  "Either move forward or pretend we can go back to the beginning."

"Be kind, rewind," he quips.  "We've had a lot of practice playing pretend at this point."

"I'm not sure acting is my forte," she murmurs.  

"Once more into the breach," he offers.  

"That's a hell of a way to proposition a lady," she jokes.  She turns in his arms again, tipping her face up to his.  Her body is warm and slippery against his.  He shifts his arms to steady her.  

"I'm not the world's foremost authority on seduction," he says.  

"No," she agrees, "but you've got a certain appeal."  She stretches up to kiss him.  "As an empiricist, it seems to me that the only way to see if this will work is to try it."

"I've always admired your scientific rigor," he says.  

"And my breasts?" she teases.

"Those too," he agrees.

"Make me believe," she says, and kisses him.

[ronmanmob]

It’d come together well, really.

That was Ron’s abiding thought as he stood outside Saint Paul’s Cathedral on the eve of his wedding. Thinking back to the fussing that’d gone on round Reggie’s nuptials - all the prodding and poking, the arguments, the rush, rush, rush, the fucking about with priests and guests - the preparation for his own seemed to be coming off in much less harried a fashion. The venue was glorious. The guests had all been RSVP’d and had happily confirmed their attendance. The catering was sorted. The decorations were up and ready. The ring-

Ron smiled as his fingers caught the little box in his left pocket. He squeezed it gently, not trusting it to the open air lest this whole thing, this whole situation come crashing down round him; revealed, as he couldn’t believe it wasn’t, to be the culmination of some fever dream he’d been nursing these past few years. All this time. All these ups and downs and roundabouts. All Monica’s time at university; all his, stuck in London missing her. His every good and bad day; and hers too. Every Christmas and every birthday since they’d met had come and gone and now...He was less than twenty-four hours away from the biggest moment of his life-

Wiv this ring...

He couldn’t remember the vows for the life of him; not off the top of his head. But that didn’t much matter. Moni’d told him already, more than once - he could make them up on the day if he wanted. She just wanted to be his wife; to get the ceremony-public-bits done and dusted and to start this new chapter of her life off with him. 

Ron squeezed the little box in his pocket again and smiled with his eyes as the Cathedral bells tolled 9pm. Tomorrow, he told himself. 

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow came, and with it came too fussy aunties and fussier mums; came brothers and suits and lint rollers and milling journalists who Ron most assuredly hadn’t tipped off to his big day’s happening. He barely touched his breakfast that morning, much as it’d been specially made and was his favorite, and instead shut himself away to shine his shoes, his watch, his jewelry, and to dress in all the privacy he could scrounge before he was out the door and into the waiting Rolls. He checked his pockets again and again, making double, triple sure the ring he’d had custom made for his darling Monica was indeed still where he’d left it. It was...It was...It was...On his fourth check Reggie tried to soothe him-

‘I’s there, mate’

-and got little but a scowl for his trouble. Nothing else anyone said to him in that moment - be it Reg, his mum, aunty May, the priest, anyone - registered in Ron’s mind. Nothing much did until he was at the alter and his Monica appeared at the aisle's end on her father’s arm; a vision in white that so caught in his chest and his throat that he’d shed a tear before she’d even reached him. The pat her pa gave him on the arm would’ve in any other moment earned a flinch, but the world didn’t reach out that far for Ron then - it was just him and his Monica, her veil lifted and her hands reaching up so she could stroke his cheeks dry with the backs of loosely curled fingers.

What he said as his vows verbatim he couldn’t recall, but he knew in his bones that he meant every word he spoke when he swore that he’d love her, and keep her, and provide for her and the family they one day might make together. He meant it when he told her that she was the very life and soul of him, and that nothing in the world would make him a happier man than if she’d but accept him as her husband. 

And then she said yes.

And that beautiful ring, he got to slip  onto her finger; as she slipped one just like it onto his.

And it was official  from then. They  were, as Ron told anyone  who asked him in tones that fairly shimmered with pride, ‘Monica Kray, n er usband Ronnie.’ And thus they’ve remained  ever since; just  as close as they were when, for  pictures, they  stood tucked  against each other on the steps outside the cathedral.

[nevereatsoggywieners]

Party Princess // Sweet Pea x Reader (ft ex! Reggie)

Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, partying, making out

Prompt: @sluttyforsweetpea : Hi! I’d like to make a request for a writing prompt if it’s not any trouble. Can you do no. 60 (If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to seduce me.) with Sweet Pea.

Find the prompts here

Word count: 2,000

Reggie Mantle’s parties were known for being the loudest, wildest, and most regrettable in the whole town, of course, this never stopped anyone from attending. Tonight lived up to its legacy as you walked in and immediately felt the bass thump throughout your body and saw people making out in any dark corner they could find.

It didn’t take long for your wandering eyes eventually landed on Sweet Pea. He was a transfer from Southside High, and you had the pleasure of being the one to sure him and his friends around on their first day. That day, you walked into school, determined to show him, along with the others, that Riverdale was more than stuck up snobs who hated anyone that wasn’t like them. That was until he opened his mouth.

“We don’t need your pity, princess.” He said condescendingly, smirking at your extended hand after you had introduced yourself to him and two other transfers. The smaller Serpent with pink colored hair jabbed him in the ribs and shook your hand.

“I’m sorry about him, he gets angry when he hasn’t had his nap. I’m Toni.” She gave you a warm smile. You gave them the tour of the school, trying to resist going off on him as he teasingly asked you where the best make-out spots were. You were definitely less than excited when you saw that your schedules were nearly identical.

But that was a few weeks ago and since then you two had warmed up to each other, almost suspiciously so. He got on your nerves and always made jokes about you being privileged and pretentious, but also took it upon himself to make racy comments anytime you wore anything remotely revealing and brush his fingers on your thigh during class.

You were drawn out of your hormonal flashback as you heard Toni calling your name. You made your way over to Fangs, Toni, and Sweet Pea, maneuvering past the crowd of dancing bodies. You finally you reached the group, greeting them with a smile, but before could even open your mouth to say hi, Sweet Pea already something to say.

“Wow, didn’t know little miss perfect went to parties like this?” He teased, eyebrow raised as he sipped his drink. Normally you would have retorted that you weren’t perfect or point out that this was a Northside party, but something about the way the music and alcohol running through your body made you want to screw with him a little bit.

“Reg and I go way back, it’d basically be a sin if I didn’t show up.” You said nonchalantly, loving the confused looks on the Serpents’ faces. Sweet Pea, in particular, seemed the most surprised waving his hands to stop you, almost spilling his drink.

“Woah woah woah. You and Reggie were a thing?” He was leaned forward in anticipation, brows knitted together, lips slightly agape in disbelief. Something about the way he was letting his emotions show so plainly on his face a devilish smile dance its way onto yours.

“I never said that. ” You shrugged your shoulders. He wasn’t wrong, technically. You and Reggie had been on and off last year before deciding it was better to just end it. It wasn’t anything serious and you two remained friends with no hard feelings. “It was a casual fling like a million years ago.” You understated and felt arms snake around your shoulders.

“It was literally last year and I was your first.” You turned to see the topic of conversation, making kissy faces at you as he said the second part. You laughed and shrugged him off of you. “Hey, you need a drink.” He gestured to your almost empty cup.

“Whatever inflates your ego, Reg. And you’re right, I do.” You let him lead you to the kitchen, completely missing the pissed look on Pea’s face. You and Reggie chatted for a little before he left to play in a “life or death” match of beer pong with the rest of the basketball team.

You sat on the counter, watching everyone dance, directing a few green faces to the restrooms and scooting over to let people view the variety of drinks people had brought. Eventually, Toni walked up to you and hopped up onto the counter.

“You know, I think it’s really cool that you’re friends with your ex.” She said and gazed up at you to gauge your reaction. If you were slightly more sober you’d be able to tell she was sent over to gather information, but unfortunately, your vision remained a little blurry and the ground still wavered a touch under your feet.

You laughed and leaned your head on the cabinets above you. “I mean, I don’t even know if I’d consider him an ex, like we’ve been friends since forever and yeah we made out, had sex a few times but we weren’t ever official before we cut it off. I don’t even know why I’m telling you so much, I’m sorry.” You giggled into your cup, finished the rest of it and grabbed a water bottle.

“Wow, and you’re able to control your drinking, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with such balance in their life!” The girl said dramatically, making you laugh. “Looks like your BFF is back. See you around.” She slugged your shoulder and walked back to her friends

You could tell by the look on Reg’s face that they had lost. And pretty badly, based on the way he nearly stumbled into the fridge on his way over to you. “Tough game?” You asked and handed him a water.

“The toughest!” He said, a little too loudly, slurring the words together as he opened the drink. “They were making them left and right and all the guys were like ‘Reggie! You got this!’ but honest Y/N… I didn’t and there was this hot girl there and she saw me miss like the easiest shots.” He said with immense excitement and emotion.

Reggie reminded you of a little kid when he was drunk, getting worked up over the littlest things. “Sounds terrible, bud.” You patted his back and he leaned his head on your shoulder. “You know how you’re like the bestest best friend, ex-girlfriend ever and would do anything for me?” he batted his lashes, trying to seem innocent.

You found your eyes wandering around, catching on Sweet Pea’s, the boy was staring at you from across the room, with a look you couldn’t decipher. Chills went down your spine as you thought about how long he was looking at you like that. “What do you want?” You said playfully bitter, shrugging your friend off your shoulder, suddenly hyper-aware of how affectionate you were being.

“Come dance with meeee.” He drew out the last word as he dragged you to your feet and to the living room being used as a dancefloor before you could even protest. He grabbed your hands and swung them back and forth, spun you, dipped you, practically did anything he could to convince you to move on your own.

The two of you danced and laughed together for what felt like ages before a bump and grind song came on. Your hips slowed to the beat, dancing without a care. Reggie put his hands on your hips, you smiled and watched him change his own rhythm to match the music. However, your time was short lived before you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You turned around to see Sweet Pea practically glaring down at you. “We need to talk.” He declared, dragging you off the dancefloor. You heard Reggie encouraging you to ‘get it’ from where you left him. You rolled your eyes at his suggestive comment and yanked your arm away from your captor. “What the hell is your problem, Pea?” You said in a hushed, but angry tone.

“Oh, my problem? What about your problem? You know he’s obviously trying to get in your pants, right?” The Serpent accused, crossing his arms over his puffed out chest. However, his demeanor changed from annoyed to mischievous before you could even blink, as he took steps forward. “Although, I’m sure you did know that, I saw you look at me right before you two started dancing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

You backed up, trying to get more space between you two, something about him made you not able to think straight. Probably his cologne. You decided as you back collided with the wall. You and Reggie using each other to make others jealous was definitely not unheard of, but there was no way you had been doing that just now.

“Oh my god, keep dreaming! You know nothing about Reggie and I’s friendship. Hell, you didn’t even know we were friends until, what? Three hours ago?” You snapped back, advancing forward until you were almost flush the boy’s chest. You didn’t realize how close you were until your hand brushed his when you tried to push him out of your way, which failed, of course.

“E-Either way it doesn’t matter, because it’s really none of your business.” You stated, your voice wavering. The look in his eyes changed, the glint that was there previous left and was filled was a newer darkness that made your knees weak.

Again, you felt yourself being whisked away, down a hall and to your left, to what you know was the bathroom. A small line of people shouted in protest was the door slammed and locked by Sweet Pea. “Let’s cut the shit, Princess. I’ve been flirting with you since I got to this stupid school and I can’t take it anymore so you need to tell me right here, right now if you and Reggie are boning.” He declared.

Your heart raced as you shook your head. Your mouth opened to formally answer his question but his serpent jacket was already on the floor and his mouth was already on yours before you could even get a syllable out. Your surprised moan got lost on his lips as you also began to instinctively shed layers.

His hands were immediately placed just under your shirt, resting on your hips, pulling you closer. Yours were more ravenous as they explored, tugged and ruined his hair. He tasted like mint and alcohol and smelled like gasoline and cologne and felt like heaven. You were so absorbed in his… everything when Toni busted in.

“I so called it!” Her excited voice caused you two to jump apart. “I knew the second you said you were friends with Reggie, there was no way Pea would be able to last another day without… this!” She gestured to your shirt askew and his hair sticking up in every direction. “Fangs owes me like twenty bucks now, so thanks, but, FP says he needs us at the Wyrm ASAP. So wrap it up and fix yourself.” She rambled before closing the door behind her.

Sweet Pea removed his hands from your body and took a step back to fully process everything that was happening. You? You just leaned against the counter and admired your work. Your lip gloss was smeared on his now swollen lips, his hair was a mess, and his cheeks were a few shades darker. You were certain you looked just as bad, if not worse.

He began to frantically grab his stuff, now nervous and panicked. “Wait, you’re really gonna leave, just like that?” You asked, a sting of pain in your heart.

“Oh baby, you’re insane if you think we’re not doing this again.” He said, kissing your lips with a smile before walking out the door.

AN: I wrote this while waiting for my illegally downloaded Spiderman to finish downloading onto my flashdrive so this is the work of a criminal but ANYWAY I honestly had to much fun writing Reggie omg sorry also this took so long for me to actually post omg sorry pt 2.

taglist: @hiighdeex3 @isaaclahys  @chaarrlieeeeee @lolabean1998 @miniwroetofreezymd

[lickstynine]

Misadventures of Kit: Chapter Twenty-Seven

written with @ocsickficsideblog

Kit and Siofra couldn’t have had more different methods of getting ready for a party. Back at her own flat, Siofra was wrapped in a towel, blow-drying her curls and digging through bathroom drawers in search of her red lipstick. Meanwhile, Kit was in his bathrobe, neurotically running a lint roller over his pressed suit for the tenth time.

He had showered this morning, spending nearly two hours washing, conditioning, and drying his own hair. Now it was carefully pinned up, safe and out of the way while he buttoned up his dress shirt. Along with the collar pins, he’d found rose gold cufflinks, clicking them onto his wrists and adding a sleek red vest and tie over his shirt.

“Al, are my pins even?” Kit asked, as if he hadn’t meticulously eyed each side of the collar, checking ten times before daring to poke through the fabric.

“Yes. For the millionth time,” Alistair said. He was the calmest of the lot, lounging back on the bed in his suit, jacket open, tie hanging loose. He’d never actually learned how to tie them properly, which was strange since he’d gone to a boarding school for six years where a tie was part of the uniform. He’d actually brushed his hair behind his ears for Kit’s sake, but it was already starting to wisp out around his face and stick upright again.

Once his own suit and tie were in place, Kit gestured for Alistair to come over, grabbing a dollop of pomade on his fingers to slick down the flyaways in Alistair’s messy mane. “Why don’t you just use product to keep it in place normally?” He asked, letting down his own hair to brush it again.

“Gross, don’t use that shit in my hair! Ugh, I hate pomade! And who even uses pomade anymore? Except octogenarians,” Alistair cried, his nose curling with disgust. He pulled a face at his reflection in the mirror. “I don’t even look like Alistair Renfrew anymore.”

“No, you look like an actual civilized human.” Kit replied, “And I would’ve had to wet your hair for gel to work well.” He just shook his head dismissively, sweeping his hair back to put in all his earrings.

“I hate hair gel. It’s sticky and cold and feels disgusting.”

Kit groaned in frustration. “I cannot deal with this today. Just shower as soon as we get back, if you hate it so much.” He leaned in closer to the mirror, dabbing concealer under his eyes, since they seemed to be perpetually shadowed these days. “I got a new burgundy mascara, but I’m a bit nervous to try it. Do you think it would look alright?”

“Of course it will. I’ll put it on you if you want. You’re shaking, Kit.”

“I'm not trying to!” Kit groaned. He handed the mascara tube to Alistair.

“I know, I wasn’t getting at you.” Alistair paused, going over to his cousin and wrapping his arms around him. “It’ll be okay.”

“Or it won't. What if Siofra and Father don't get along? What if I piss off both of them?” Kit fussed, twisting each ring as he put them on.

“Well, Siofra probably won’t get on with your father, but she knows from you not to stir up trouble. Siofra seems to like you, and besides, I’ve pissed her off and she forgave me. And your dad...just stay out of his way as much as possible,” Alistair said.

Kit nodded. “I want to go home. I like being home. I just… I can't be home when he's there, and it's stupid and I'm stupid and I hate it.” He continued to shake as he brushed over his hair one last time, spraying it in place. “Okay, we…We need to go. We have to pick up Siofra.”

Alistair sighed, wrapping an arm around Kit. “Come on then. I’ll look after you.”

Kit nodded, allowing Alistair to layer his coats over his suit before they left. He still shivered in the stairwell, pressing against the heated leather seats as soon as they got in Taddy's car.

“Evening, sirs.”

“Hey, Taddy,” Alistair said, not at all formal. He’d given up on telling Taddy not to call him sir - it was just a habit - but he was going to make it clear he didn’t have any airs and graces.

“We're off to pick up Miss Siofra now, yes?”

“Yeah.” Kit mumbled, though he didn't sound excited. As the car took off, he swallowed nervously, clutching Alistair's hand. Alistair squeezed Kit’s back, sitting close beside him protectively. When they pulled up outside, Kit texted Siofra, and she bustled out looking like a buff ginger Cinderella.

The dress really did look splendid on her, and she and Kit had found some red opera-length gloves, as well as a red and rose gold Louboutin clutch. The outfit was impeccable, head to toe, and her curls were smoother and glossier than ever, with an elaborate braid woven into some of the upper strands, collecting in a rose-shaped bun. Kit forced a smile as she climbed into the car.

“You look stunning.”

“You look terrified.” She replied. “You gonna be okay?”

Kit nodded, swallowing nervously. “I'll be fine after a glass or two of wine.”

“Didja eat at least?” Siofra eyed him worriedly. She didn't want to him drinking on an empty stomach.

Kit just nodded, deliberately leaving out the information that he puked his nervous guts up in the shower.

“You scrub up pretty nice, Siofra,” Alistair said, raising his eyebrows.

“And you figured out how to use a hairbrush.” She grinned.

“Kit did my hair.”

“That explains it.” Siofra laughed. “You actually look like an adult, it's fuckin’ weird.”

“So what do I normally look like?” Alistair asked.

“A high schooler that writes depressing poetry in a black notebook.”

“That’s more Jasper’s thing. I sketched depressing things in my black notebook.”

Siofra rolled her eyes. “Congratulations, you're special.” Taddy snickered from up front.

“That’s what they called the special needs kids,” Alistair said. “I used to have to go once a week to work on my shitty spelling. They all seemed baffled when I didn’t score very highly on the dyslexia test. Guess I just can’t fucking spell.”

Siofra snorted. “You're literally a professional idiot.”

“Then I should be as rich as Kit, because I’m doing an amazing fucking job of it.”

That actually got a weak laugh out of the older boy, and Siofra grinned. “Hey! You woke the dead.”

Alistair smiled a bit, wrapping his arm around Kit. “Help me protect him tonight, Siofra. He won’t be able to dance much without rests in between, but the girls love him.”

“He's got a fuckin’ date, they can dance with someone else!” Siofra huffed dramatically.

“It’s not really like that, you generally dance with lots of people. You just dance with the girl you brought the most,” Alistair said. “It’s like fucking Pride and Prejudice, trust me.”

Siofra scrunched her nose. “I'm not dancing with any skeevy older blokes.”

“There’ll be lots. I used to try to get Kit to join in counting the inappropriate ass-pats but he never did.”

“I'll break their fuckin’ fingers. Or just step on their feet. These heels are metal.” Siofra smirked.

Alistair grinned too. “Please do. That’ll provide the entertainment.”

Kit sighed. “If you could both not start a riot tonight, that'd be delightful.”

“I said I’d be good,” Alistair said.

“Mm.” Kit didn't seem reassured, and as the houses outside the window started getting nicer, he shifted nervously. Alistair wrapped an arm around him.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“Mm.” Kit nodded, but when the car stopped, he didn't move to get out. Meanwhile, Siofra had climbed out, and she was gawking at the towering red-brick building, every floor glittering with Christmas lights.

“Fuckin’ hell! You said you lived in a manor, not a bleedin’ castle!”

“It's a manor.” Kit mumbled, still sunken into the leather seat.

“Castles are older,” Alistair said. “It’s just a big ass house.”

“Jaysus…” Siofra shook her head, then turned to tug on Kit's arm. “Oi. If we go in without you, we're gonna get booted right back out.”

Kit sighed, allowing her to pull him out of the car. His legs wobbled as he walked up the drive, and he hesitated to knock. Siofra banged on the door before he could run, and a servant girl let them in with a warm smile.

“Evening, Master Kit. It's good to see you.”

“You, too.” Kit mumbled. He shed his coats and handed them to her; Siofra did the same with her shimmery gold shawl. Alistair sighed but handed her his coat too, pulling a face. She smiled and carried their coats away. Kit shifted nervously on his feet, afraid to enter the ballroom. Alistair pressed close to his side protectively.

“Come on, no point hovering here getting more and more worried.”

Kit nodded, but his shoes dragged on the rug as he shuffled along. He again hesitated at the doors, but Siofra yanked them open. The ballroom was grand as ever, with a towering tree nearly touching the vaulted ceiling. There were lights and garlands on the walls, as well as live music and a massive spread of refreshments.

Alistair glanced around disdainfully. “Look at all this, Siofra. Do you think Reggie gives anything to any sort of charity?”

“Don't all rich old wankers donate? Just to look good or whatever?” she asked.

“Not the ones who were born into money. They don’t need public opinion on their side. My parents have to donate, because they want to sell their shit.”

“Slimy old cunts.” Siofra mumbled. Kit tried to slip away to the bar, but she grabbed his arm. “Come on, don't we have someone to see?”

“Don't remind me.” Kit groaned. He only had to look around for a moment to spot his father. Even in a room full of big heels and elaborate updos, Reggie towered over most of the crowd. He was standing by the snacks, chatting with a man about the same age who Kit recognized but couldn't have named to save his life. “Well, he's busy right now. We can see him later.”

“Oh, stuff it. You're going to say that all night.” Siofra tugged Kit through the crowd, towards the party's host. Alistair trailed along behind them, trying not to look like he loathed his uncle and everything he stood for. It was hard to ignore the beacon of red and gold that was Siofra, and Reggie turned to look at her before even noticing who she was with.

“Christian.” Reginald quickly smoothed out his face, trying to act like he hadn’t been staring at his son’s date’s cleavage. “Who is this with you?”

Kit was shaking where he stood, but he managed to keep his voice even when he spoke. “This is Siofra. I’ve been seeing her for about a month now.”

She lifted her skirt in a slight curtsey. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Reggie nodded, the gears in his brain turning in slow motion. “Siofra… what is that, Irish?”

“Yes, sir.” Siofra nodded. “Born and raised. I moved here for university.”

“Oh, you’re educated?” Reggie seemed surprised, as if it were 1953 and not 2018.

“Yes, sir. I have a bachelor’s in Music Theory and Composition.”

“You play any instruments?” Reggie asked.

“Violin, mostly, but I can do basics on piano and guitar.” Siofra said. Unlike Kit, she wasn’t at all intimidated, and she talked easily, answering more of Reginald’s questions and telling him about the orchestra her father played in. “They came through London recently, you might have seen them?”

Reggie nodded, though he had no idea whether he’d actually gone. “Yes, I think I did. Have you gotten anything to drink?”

“Not yet, we just came in.”

“Go find something you like. We have quite the selection.” Reggie told her. Siofra didn’t hesitate - free booze was great, free expensive booze was even better. Kit spun around to follow after her, but before he could take a step, a powerful hand latched onto his shoulder. “Not so fast, boy.”

Kit felt his heart stop in his chest. He took a shuddering breath, slowly turning to face Reggie again. To his shock and confusion, the older man was grinning.

“That’s a nice broad you’ve found there. Smart, cultured, great tits. I doubt you’ll be able to, but try to keep this one. She’s worlds better than the peasant faggot you had before.”

It was all Kit could do to nod, and he bolted for the drink table as soon as Reginald let go of him. A thousand confused thoughts were clamoring in his head, and he didn’t feel like listening to any of them. He nearly ran into a waiter, apologizing profusely and snatching a glass of champagne from the man’s tray. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sir.” The waiter walked off, and Kit emptied the flute in a single gulp, shuffling over to see Siofra, who was sipping a glass of whiskey and stacking hors d'oeuvres on a plate.

Alistair had been completely ignored, as usual. He was desperate to comment and start an argument with his uncle - but he’d promised Kit he’d behave. He contented himself with scowling as fiercely as he could at Reggie instead. Siofra patted Kit’s shoulder, offering him a snack cake.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Kit just shook his head, nudging the plate away and begging a waiter for more champagne. Alistair stomped over to them, still glowering. “God, I wish I could smack him one.”

“Did you talk to him?” Kit asked, gesturing for the waiter to stay.

“No. I wanted to tell him off. It was actually a real struggle to keep quiet and not start a row. I may have a problem.”

“May?” Siofra smirked.

“Shut up. You made a good impression. He liked your tits. Welcome to the family,” Alistair said dryly.

Siofra snorted. “Yeah, right charming bastard he is.”

“Isn’t he just? I didn’t even get a hello.”

“I don’t think he even saw you. He was too busy staring at Siofra’s chest.” Kit mumbled.

“Gross… She’s young enough to be his daughter.” Alistair paused. “I think…”

“How old d’you think I am?” Siofra cried.

“I dunno. Older than Kit.”

Siofra rolled her eyes. “Truly a professional idiot.”

Kit chuckled into his champagne, holding his flute out yet again for the waiter.

“Kit, slow down,” Alistair said. “Eat some bread or something.”

“I don't want to eat. I want to be drunk.” Kit argued, swiftly emptying his glass again.

“That won’t go down well.”

Kit rolled his eyes. “I’m not doing shots, it’s bloody champagne. I’ll be lucky if I’m buzzed before midnight.”

“Midnight? We're stayin’ that late?” Siofra asked.

“They’ll want Kit to stay for the long haul,” Alistair said. “Once when we were really little, nobody actually took us to bed. Kit’s mum found us at two in the morning asleep behind the curtains.”

“Oh… shit.” Siofra pulled out her clutch to check the time on her phone.

Kit frowned. “Are you that ready to leave?”

“No, I don’t hate it here. I just… I have to leave tonight.”

“Well, it might be late, but we won’t spend the night here.” Kit reassured her.

Siofra shook her head. “No, not leave the party. Leave the country. It’s an eight hour drive to Dublin, and I have to be at my gran’s for Christmas. Normally, we’d’ve left by now, but the lads agreed to wait for me.”

Kit looked horrified. “I wouldn’t have invited you if I’d known you were busy!”

“I coulda said no.” Siofra replied, struggling to type through her gloves. “I wanted to come, I just didn’t schedule it that well. Just lemme shoot my brothers a text.”

“You can go early. I’ll look after Kit,” Alistair said.

“I feel bad leavin’ ya here…” Siofra sighed. “Especially when your family is such a gaggle’o wankers.”

Alistair snorted at the phrasing. “We’re used to that.” Kit nodded in concession, though he didn’t look very happy. Siofra glanced back at her phone, seeming surprised by the answer on the screen.

“You two wanna come with me?”

Kit went from reluctant to baffled in the blink of an eye. “Excuse me?”

Siofra sipped nonchalantly at her drink. “I texted the family groupchat, told ‘em I’d be leavin’ late since I’m out with a guy I’m seein’. Dad said ‘Bring ‘im with, if he’s so important.’ So I’m askin’. You lads wanna come to Christmas with me?”

Alistair glanced at Kit. “Jules is going to that crazy grandma’s house with his family. He wouldn’t mind if I went with you.”

Kit looked completely stunned by the idea. “I've never been to a family Christmas before.” He obviously didn't consider the ball a family event, even if the Raycraft name was plastered on every invitation in gold leaf. “Do you want me to go?” He asked Siofra.

“Obviously, stupid.” She nudged his shoulder. “I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't.”

Kit turned back to his cousin, trying to pawn the decision off on literally anyone else. “Al? Do you want to go?”

“Maybe she didn’t mean I could come too,” Alistair said, glancing at her.

“No, I said you lads. Plural. I know your clingy arse is gonna follow Kit if he comes long.” Siofra smirked.

Alistair poked his tongue out at her. “Okay then. We’ll come.”

“I'll tell Riagán to make sure there's room in the car.” Siofra picked up her phone again.

Kit fished in his pockets for his own phone. “If you're going to be kind enough to have us, I can at least have Taddy drive us.”

“Is there room for all of us in his bougie little sedan?” Siofra asked.

“We have other vehicles.” Kit shrugged. “I'll send Taddy to get Al's and my things from the flat, then he can go help your brothers pack their things.”

“Damn… and suddenly I'm back to not feelin’ like the generous one.” Siofra mumbled.

“Please allow it. It's my only good quality.” Kit said, not looking up from his phone.

“You’ve got plenty of good qualities,” Alistair argued.

“My looks don't count.” Kit deadpanned.

“You're a pretty good shag.” Siofra offered.

“You’re no help, Siofra,” Alistair said.

She huffed and took a bite of a tiny cake. “I listed an example. What did you do?”

“I could list a hundred things.”

“You can count to a hundred?” Siofra feigned surprise.

Kit tried not to snicker. “Please bicker later. I need you two to protect me. Proper dancing will start any minute now.” He sucked down another flute of champagne in preparation.

“Then it’d be better if you could stand upright, you lush. Stop drinking,” Alistair said.

Kit rolled his eyes. “Way to make a boring party worse.”

“Hey, you’ll thank me when you don’t puke down the front of some poor girl’s dress.”

“That's more your wheelhouse, isn't it?”

Kit didn't get his question answered, as that was the moment the music picked up and guests swarmed the dancefloor. Siofra practically carried him along, doing her best to dance the girl's part while both holding Kit's weight and towering over him in her heels. Alistair paired up with some little sister who didn’t want to dance seriously either, and they twirled about on their own in the corner.

Kit rolled his eyes when he caught sight of his cousin. “He's always been like that.”

“An idiot?” Siofra asked.

“Well, yes, but I was going to say unique. He does what he wants no matter what, and he's proud of it. I've never had the courage to be like that.” Kit sighed.

Siofra shrugged. “Everybody has their faults. You're still the smart one. And the pretty one. And the charming one. And the rich one.”

Now Kit couldn't help smiling. “You really know how to stroke my ego.”

“And I can flatter ya, too.” Siofra grinned.

Kit scoffed, but he was grinning too. “You're filthy.”

“And you like it.”

Kit didn't argue with that, chuckling and pulling closer to Siofra as they drifted across the dance floor. As the song drew to a close, though, he felt a flutter of dread. Siofra gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as she let him go. “I'll be back for ya.” She promised, spinning around to find a swarm of older men vying eagerly for her hand.

Alistair wanted to go rescue Kit, but in the flurry of partner-swapping he was pushed towards a girl about his own age with a very long nose that she looked down in disgust. She clearly knew who Alistair was, because she scowled fiercely as she was prodded into asking him for the next dance, and took his hands gingerly, as if she thought he had fleas. Alistair caught Kit’s eye over his shoulder and pulled a hideous face.

Kit made a distressed face back. Not because his girl was hideous, but because she was athletic, and unlike Siofra, this stranger expected him to hold his own, spinning and sashaying in time with the upbeat music.

Alistair tried to watch him as they danced, not paying attention properly to his own partner. When he’d learned to ballroom dance at boarding school, there’d been no girls, and Alistair was usually paired with a tall boy to dance the female part. If he didn’t focus properly he was liable to start letting his partner lead him, and he soon stepped wrong and collided with the girl, both of them stumbling.

The girl fell on her hands and knees, scowling at him. “Oaf! What are you doing?”

“I haven’t done this in a while, okay?” Alistair hissed, blushing. He’d been about to help her up but now he just folded his arms.

“Clearly. This is why people talk about you.” She grumbled, climbing to her feet and smoothing her dress.

“Yeah, not really. You’re fine anyway.”

“No thanks to you.” She scowled. The music died down and she hurried away, while Kit and Siofra once again fought off a swarm of new partners.

The little sister came back to Alistair, dragging him off to a corner again. “Nice one.”

“Shut up,” Alistair said, grinning and peering through the crowd to make sure Kit wasn’t about to collapse. The older boy was too far away to see, save for the occasional flicker of red hair. He was surviving for now, but starting to get winded. Alistair couldn’t exactly yell for him across the hall - not when he’d promised Kit he’d behave - so he just sighed and hoped Siofra was taking care of him.

The next dance was a slow one, which gave Kit a chance to breathe, but three minutes’ reprieve was quickly wasted when the music picked back up. He started stumbling later in the dance, and the girl with him looked annoyed.

“Sorry. Sorry. I'm just a bit tired,” he mumbled, “Getting over a cold.”

The girl's face softened a bit, and she slowed her pace. Kit smiled gratefully, and they spun across the floor. His next partner wasn't quite as gentle, and within a few songs, he was stumbling and wheezing again. Siofra watched with worried eyes, trying to break through the crowd of thirsty men to rejoin him. When she tried to get close, another girl was reaching for Kit, but she shamelessly hip-checked the stranger away.

“Oi! That's my date. Get your own.”

Alistair snorted from behind her, and the crowd of children he was goofing around with all giggled too. Kit mouthed an apology to the girl, but he was secretly quite grateful, nearly collapsing in Siofra's arms. She caught him easily, but looked quite worried. “Jeez. You really need a lie-down.”

“This is exhausting.” Kit groaned.

“I know. Would ya get in trouble for sittin’ down a few minutes?”

Kit sucked his teeth. “Maybe?”

“Sit down, Kit. Fainting will get you in more trouble,” Alistair said.

“I suppose you’re right.” Kit sighed, letting Siofra drag him over to an empty chair. He sunk down at once, his legs limp as overcooked pasta and his lungs burning. “Oh, god, I don’t know how I survived this long. I feel like I’m dying.”

Siofra rolled her eyes. “Easy there, drama queen. Have some water, maybe actually eat somethin’. You’ll be alright.” She fanned him with her clutch, half to match his dramatic nature, and half because he actually looked close to fainting.

“Just have some bread or something. Even you can’t throw that up,” Alistair said.

Kit just nodded, looking at Alistair hopefully. “Can you bring some?”

“I guess,” he said grudgingly, weaving his way through the crowds to the food. It was mostly occupied by bored, hungry kids and those too old to dance. A tiny lady who looked old enough to be his great-grandmother gave him a crinkly smile, croaking at him about how handsome he was. Alistair was pretty confused, but it made a change from everyone saying he was a disappointment, so he smiled back. She patted his arm, sticking a cupcake on his plate and shuffling away.

Alistair took some of the fancy bread rolls to Kit, still looking confused. “Who’s that old woman, Kit?” He pointed her out through the crowd.

Kit squinted across the room, mumbling about needing new glasses. “Why are you asking me for someone’s name? I know she’s the wife of a Lord, so just look for Moses’ older brother and that’s probably who she’s here with.” He picked apart a roll, taking a tiny bite of one of the flakey corners. Siofra offered him a water she’d snatched from a passing waiter, and he sipped gratefully.

“Well she was actually nice to me. It was weird. Maybe she’s looking for healthy young organs.”

“Probably just senile.” Siofra shrugged. Kit chuckled into his water.

“Thanks a bunch,” Alistair said. “She said I look handsome.” He stuck his tongue out at Siofra.

“Definitely senile.” She grinned.

“Funny. You’ve done well tonight. Plenty of guys buzzing round you.”

“I wish most’o those creepy old bastards would piss off. I ain’t had my arse grabbed that many times in a skeevy pub.” Siofra grumbled.

“Told you,” Alistair mumbled.

“Sorry.” Kit sighed, picking at his bread.

Siofra rolled her eyes. “I ain’t really bothered. Just wish I could slap the fuckers like I do at the pub.”

“I’ll tell you from experience that it doesn’t go down too well if you do that,” Alistair said.

“Yeah, I figured.” Siofra scowled. She could see guys drifting towards her as the song playing drew to an end, and she made a point to sit down next to Kit with her back to them.

Alistair smirked. “God, his face was priceless then, Siofra.”

She grinned back. “Good, it can be priceless somewhere else. I gotta take care’o my princess.” She reached over and stole a piece of Kit’s roll, since he was tearing it apart more than eating it.

“Kit, eat some of that. Don’t let Miss Gannet eat it.”

“Oi! I’m not the one whose fat arse left for bread and came back with cake.” Siofra huffed.

Kit picked up one of the tiny morsels of roll, chewing slowly as if he needed to make it last.

“The woman gave me cake,” Alistair retorted.

“Probably cause your fat arse looked hungry.”

“Well I am. I’m eating one cupcake, Mother.”

“Don’t call me that unless ya want me to whoop your arse.” Siofra smirked.

“We can provide the entertainment.”

Siofra just rolled her eyes, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and sucking it down. “Come on, lads, we can’t hide at the table all night.” She stood back up and offered a hand to Kit. He sighed, not excited to dance again, but knowing she was right.

“Be careful with him,” Alistair said.

“I will. I’m keepin’ ‘im to myself this time. Those other whores had their chance.” Siofra scooped Kit up as easily as a child would lift a doll, twirling back onto the dance floor.

The rest of the night passed in relative peace, though Kit was nearly comatose with exhaustion by the time the clock struck midnight. Guests toasted and cheered, and he stumbled around on Siofra’s arm wishing everyone merry Christmas and farewell. They didn’t have to bother saying goodbye to Reggie - by now, he was so plastered, the Queen herself could’ve sung him a carol and he wouldn’t have remembered in the morning.

Though she’d had more to drink than her beau, Siofra was still quite steady on her feet, practically carrying the tired and tipsy Kit back to the front door. Alistair had only sipped one glass, so he held Kit by his other arm. The servant girl from earlier came bustling out with their coats, and Siofra made sure to bundle Kit up before they stepped outside. Taddy was loyally waiting in the drive, but today, he was sitting in the driver’s seat of a sleek black Volvo rather than his usual Bentley. The SUV had been packed to the brim with luggage (mostly Kit’s, along with a bag or two from everyone else), and the middle row seats were occupied by Riagán, Cillian, and Finny.

“Oi! Master Scrooge! Ready to attend the Cratchit family Christmas?” Riagán yelled out the window, grinning. Cillian was half asleep beside him, but Finny leaned out the window as well, barking happily.

Kit forced a weak laugh, but he just wanted to get into the car and fall asleep. The brothers scrambled out, allowing Siofra to climb into the back and trade her dress for a t-shirt and pyjama pants. She looked at Kit, “You gonna change before we get on the road?”

“Hm?” Kit had been dozing off on Alistair’s shoulder. Siofra just pulled him inside, deciding it would be easier to strip and redress him herself. Once he was bundled into pyjamas and a robe, Siofra buckled him into the middle row and climbed back out to gather her dog.

Alistair managed to dress himself, tugging Kit’s robe tighter around his shoulders. “Are you warm enough?”

Kit nodded, already nestling down in his heated seat. Now that he was back in the car, Finny was practically tackling Alistair, barking and wagging his tail. Siofra chuckled. “Sorry, he’s gonna be in the back with Cilli.”

Alistair squealed and embraced Finny’s furry neck. “Hello, Finny!” The dog licked his face, climbing into Alistair’s lap. Riagán had settled into the front seat (seeing as he was 5+ inches taller than everyone else, it was only fair), and Cillian in the far back. Siofra plopped down on the other side of Kit, rolling her eyes.

“I guess Fin can just sit at our feet.”

“Just as a warning, I haven’t got any travel tablets so I’m gonna puke at some point,” Alistair said, his voice muffled under a ton of dog. Siofra groaned in exasperation.

“You underestimate me, sir.” Taddy winked at the pile of fur covering Alistair. “Check the console.”

“God bless.” Siofra sighed in relief.

“Thanks, Taddy,” Alistair called. He knew Taddy had mopped his puke off the seats enough times to come prepared.

“Of course, sir. There should be water bottles in the cooler in the back.”

By the time they had left London, Kit was snoring away. Siofra had pulled out a spiral notebook, where she was scribbling notes and lyrics as they came to mind. Finny had settled on the floor of the middle row, his head on Alistair’s feet and his ass on Siofra’s; Kit would’ve complained about being a dog footrest, but he was too asleep to care. Despite his older brother belting along to the radio, Cillian was starting to doze off as well. Alistair doodled idly in his notebook, mostly little cartoons; he couldn’t focus on detailed art in the car, the looking down would make him queasy even with the pills.

Siofra leaned over Kit to peer at Alistair’s doodles. “Whatcha drawin’?”

“You’ll think it’s weird.”

She scoffed. “I always think you’re weird, just show me.”

He’d done a little doodle of Kit and Siofra in their party outfits, but their arms and legs and hair dripped with honey, while the old guys and women around them had little round wings and fuzzy bumblebee bodies. Siofra snorted.

“That’s great. You should make t-shirts or comics or somethin’.”

“I’d like to make comics. Never thought of t-shirts. That’d be even better.”

“Definitely make more money with shirts.” Siofra sat back in her own seat as she remembered she was squashing Kit. “You gonna nap soon?” She asked, stretching and yawning.

“Probably. I’m knackered.” He sighed. “Thanks for taking care of Kit tonight.”

Siofra shrugged. “I don’t mind. Besides, ‘e shelled out a couple thousand quid for my outfit. I’d be a bit’o a bitch if I didn’t at least defend ‘im from thirsty hags.”

“Money like that isn’t important to him. What he needs is someone who really cares. Besides me, ‘cause I’m always on the border of pissing him off.”

“Oh, I know. Don’t think I forgot the mall.” Siofra smirked.

Alistair grimaced. “I hate fighting with him.”

“I mean, he’s pretty fussy. It’s bound to happen, ain’t it?” She asked.

“Still. I can’t stand it.”

Siofra rolled her eyes. “That’s how family is. Ya love ‘em all the time, but ya don’t like ‘em all the time. If ya get along with somebody every minute’o every day, one or both o’ ya are fuckin’ mental.”

Alistair snorted. “Fair enough. I don’t know, I think I’m just sensitive to fights after growing up in our family.”

I think you’re both sensitive to everything, Siofra wanted to say. Instead she just nodded, reaching up to smack Riagán with her notebook. “Oi! X Factor! Stuff it! I wanna sleep.” He flipped her off, but quieted down nonetheless. Alistair stuffed his own notebook in his pocket, leaning on the window to sleep.