#And the Sheriff cause he's the best (grand) dad ever

[chaosandwolves]

I can't believe this silly movie broke my heart so badly that I put on one of my biggest comfort movies and that I'm staying on the couch to sleep...

How do you just f*ck over your own fans like that?

Derek deserved to be finally at ease and happy.

Derek deserved better but so did we.

I'm truly heartbroken cause they didn't need to do that. They said this is for the fans but then pull that... Wow

[spn-rewrites]

01x07 (part 2)

Season One Episode Seven: Hook Man

Summary: the case is getting closer and closer to being solved, despite all the ups and downs but all the reader wants to do it wrap it up and get the hell out of dodge. 

Word Count: 5.5k 

Part 1 Part 3

It was dark and 9-mile road had an eerie feeling to it that only got worse when Dean shut the headlights of the Impala off. You got out, regardless of how fucking scary this place was at night but you had to investigate the case somehow. Right up close and personal. The extended arsenal of weapons Dean kept in the trunk made you feel slightly better but that feeling went away within seconds.

“If it is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam commented after Dean handed him a gun from the truck. Sam messed with the gun, aiming it in the direction of the road.

“Yeah. Rock salt,” Dean said, handing Sam the bullets filled with rock salt. They were a secret weapon that you and Dean created a while back. Something to keep the spirits at bay until you could safely get rid of them. For good.

“Hhm. Salt being a spirit deterrent.” Sam took them, turning them around in his hand to examine them and then put them in his gun. Dean rummaged some more in his truck and grabbed a weapon of his own and ammo.

“It won’t kill ‘em,” he said, slamming the trunk shut with the gun slung from his back.

“But it’ll slow them down.” You finished his sentence, earning a wink from Dean as he rounded the Impala. You followed in the middle, safely sandwiched between the two boys. Where you always wanted to be.

“That’s pretty good. You and dad think of this?” Sam asked, curious about the ammo. You were prepared to tell him the story, give him every little detail from how the conversation started and how you mentioned the idea, just in passing and as a joke and how Dean’s face lit up, excited about it and then took complete credit for the idea but you didn’t mind. You wanted to indulge Sam in the knowledge of how it took about five different tries to get the rock salt in the bullet the way you wanted and how the first time you guys tried to use it, it didn’t work and the two of you ended up running from a spirit like you were in a horror movie.

“I told you, you don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius,”” Dean beat you to it, giving his answer as blandly as possible. His incessant need to make Sam think highly of him, the secret was that Sam already did. You were cut off the sound of the woods just beyond the road creaking. Twigs snapping and the brush moving around and it wasn’t from the wind.

“Over there, over there,” you whispered, turning your attention a few feet to the right. You nudged Sam, who’s gun was lifted and aimed and ready to shoot if need be. The end of the gun followed your gaze and Dean had his hand ready to grab his weapon if he needed to as footsteps started to approach. The leaves. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Under the footsteps of whatever was ahead.

“Put the gun down! Now! Now! Hands behind your head!” A voice boomed, causing Sam to immediately drop his weapon. An officer, sheriff, park ranger, you didn’t know. You couldn’t tell and it didn’t really matter because he had a gun pointing right at the three of you and he would shoot if you didn’t do what he said so you hands went behind your head.

“Wait, wait, wait! Okay! Okay!” Dean coaxed, setting the gun that was hanging from his back on the ground and doing what the officer said. Spirits, shapeshifters, Hookman legends were all easy peasy but the law enforcement parade was a whole separate story.

“Get down on your knees! Do it! On your knees!” He bellowed, getting closer and closer with his gun still aimed in your direction. Again, you did what you were told, the twigs poking into your knees. It hurt and you wanted to move them away with your hands, adjust your positioning so that you didn’t end up with holes in your kneecaps but you knew better. “Now get down on your bellies! Come on, do it!” He yelled once everyone was on their knees. One step further, you thought. The knife in the back.

“He had the gun,” Dean whined, frustrated that the cops were making him also get on his stomach you understood, being in the same boat as him but you would have never said it out loud and you wished you could kick him for it.

“We saved your ass! Talked the sheriff down to a fine, my dude. I’m Matlock,” Dean boasted as he pushed the grand doors of the police station open. It was the next day and the three of you spent the night in police custody. They let you and Dean go with just a warning, seeing as you didn’t have a gun aimed at law enforcement’s head but talking Sam out of jail time was a little bit harder than that.

“But how?” Sam asked, trying to catch up to Dean’s fast pace. He wanted to get out of there quickly. Less time near police, the less time they have to decide they want to search his car. You always told him they wouldn’t unless they had solid evidence to, but Dean was paranoid about it.

“Told him you were a dumb ass pledge and we were hazing you.” Dean chuckled at his own made up story. It was the first thing that popped into his mind and you followed along with it. It seemed to be the easiest and most realistic story, seeing as the events of the past few weeks.

“What about the shotgun?” Sam still pushed harder for more information. A few more feet to the car and then you guys were home free. Note to self, next time don’t go into the creepy woods.

“We told them that you were hunting ghosts and that the spirits are repelled by rock salt. Typical hell week prank,” you explained. The truth, in your case, never made any sense and it was so wild that sometimes it was the best excuse. No one wanted to question it. With the death of the frat boy and no suspects or leads, rumors were going wild and why wouldn’t a ghost be one of them?

“And he believed you?” Sam sounded like he didn’t believe you himself. Like you were making up stories and he was going to get arrest at any moment. As if they let him loose, gave him a taste of his freedom just to take it away as quickly as it was given to him.

“Well, you look like a dumb-ass pledge,” Dean joked as you finally reached the car. Sam went to open the door when Dean mumbled his name. You both followed his gaze and saw at least 5 police officers rushing out of the same doors you two came out of only moments ago. One of them was the cop who questioned you. You could have sworn you saw Sam’s life flash before his eyes as if what he was imagining in his head was coming true but then they all got in their respective police cars, ignoring the three of you and speeding off with their sirens on full blast. You decided to follow.

The Impala went as fast Dean would let it, going fast enough to keep up with the sound of the sirens but not too fast because then you would end up in the same situation you were in earlier.

Dean inched closer to the scene, yellow caution tape cutting off the whole driveway

and yard of what seemed to be a normal, suburban house but something awful happened on the inside of it. Something no one would ever be able to imagine just by looking at it’s perfectly sided exterior. Lori Sorenson sat on the back of an ambulance, a blanket wrapped around her shoulder. What the hell was she doing here? You noticed Sam’s eyes linger longer than you wanted.

Dean went around the corner of the block, parked the Impala and you gained access into the back of the house. You needed to get as close to the crime scene as possible before they cleaned it all up and poof all evidence of whatever this was is gone. “Why would the Hookman come here? It’s a long way from 9-mile road,” Sam pointed out, poking holes in the only theory you guys had.

“Maybe he’s not haunting the crime scene, maybe it’s something else,” Dean said, patching it back up. The three of you crept alongside the house, keeping a close eye on the people in the front of the house, their backs turned towards you. A pair of girls came into view, closer than the other people and all three of your backs went up against the wall, Dean’s arm covering over your chest as if you didn’t get the hint.

Sam was already started to climb the side of the house without Dean noticing because his eyes were too attached to the back of the girls. “Damn sorority girls,” Dean drooled. “Think maybe we’ll see a naked pillow fight?” Dean laughed at his own joke as you helped Sam take his first couple of steps up the house. When Dean notices, his laughter subsided and he started to help you climb up behind Sam and then him, behind you. His eyes still never left the girls butts.

You kept your hand trailing alongside the house, the contact-making you feel a little less like you could fall off and die at any moment in time. Sam kept peeking behind him at you like he needed to keep a close watch but you knew Dean was behind you and would catch you if you fell. You wondered why Sam kept looking if he knew that, too.

Before he made any more moves, Sam checked the crowd in the front of the house to make sure no one was looking up. When the coast was clear, he pried open the window and slide in. You did the same and then so did Dean, who was a lot less graceful than you. “Be quiet,” Sam hissed from inside the house.

“Me be quiet? You be quiet!” Dean pressed back, getting his whole body in the house. You closed the window behind him, ignoring their bantering. You were in a hallway with fresh linens folded up on a shelf. The door to the right of you was the victims. You knew that by the police officer that was looking around, taking notes on his pad. Sam held out his arm so neither you nor Dean would go ahead and get caught.

When the officer left, the three of you entered. The only crime scene tape that was up was blocking off the queen size bed with a queen size pool of blood-soaked into the sheets. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light” was drawn in blood, blood that was dripping down the walls and into the sheets Sam repeated the words, his voice quiet. “That’s right out of the legend,” he said.

“That’s classic Hookman, all right. It’s definitely a spirit,” Dean said, pointing at his nose. With all the gore that was in front of you, the horrific smell was the least of your concerns. You starred at the scene in awe as Dean started to look around for other clues.

“Yeah, I’ve never spelled ozone this strong before,” Sam commented about the smell. You pointed at a symbol that was drawn in the same blood. It was lower than the words, like a signature. “Hey, come here,” Sam called for Dean who appeared within moments. “Does that look familiar to you?” He asked like he knew the answer but wanted Dean to put the pieces together for himself. You felt it, too. It was too familiar for it to be random. A signature. That’s exactly what it was.

You snuck out of the house, down the siding and tiptoed back to the Impala where you dug up all the papers and information that you had about the Hookman legend. There, on a drawing of the hook Jacob Karns used, was the symbol. “It’s the same symbol,” you pointed out the obvious as you sat on the hood of the Impala, Sam in the middle holding the paper.

“Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns,” Sam concluded, still reading the pages of Jacob. Dean seemed content with this information, looking off into the street and not at the pages anymore.

“Well, let’s find his body, salt and burn the bones,” he said as if the solution was always just that easy.

“After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an old North Cemetery in an unmarked grave,” Sam read, flicking the papers as if they were the one who caused this. The pages were the reason Jacob Karns was unfindable. The pages were the reason these people died.

“Super,” Dean deadpanned and got off the hood of the car, rounding it to get in the front seat. Sam quickly followed suit, grunting as he got up. He held his hand out for you to grab and you did, acting as if the touch wasn’t sending shivers down your spine.

“So, we know it’s Jacob Karns, but we still don’t know where he’ll manifest next,” Sam was explaining when Dean picked off a piece of paper from his windshield. He read it, turned it around a few times. “Or why.”

“I think I have a wild guess about why. I think your friend Lori has something to do with this,” Dean said, not explaining what the note was but instead he got in the car. Sam cocked his head, giving his brother a quizzical look before turning to you. You shrugged your shoulders, knowing nothing and held your hands up in defense.

Dean explained on the way to the frat house that the note he saw was from Lori herself, which is why Dean made the comment about Lori having something to do with it. It made sense, she was at two of the murders and the only witness.

The frat house was crawling with college students that were either getting drunk or completely drunk. While you were dodging all of the creepy guys, staying close to Sam’s side, and gawking at how idiotic all these people looked dancing as if they were made of metal poles, Dean was checking out all of the hot sorority girls.

“Man you’ve been holding out on me! This college thing is awesome!” Dean yelled over the heavy music that boomed through the entire house. Sam was hitting his palm with a rolled-up stack of papers he had been carrying around. He was jittery. Nervous.

“This wasn’t really my experience,” he commented. No expression in his voice but his eyes were darting around the entire place probably looking for Lori, you assumed. You didn’t let that hurt you. That he was looking for another girl while you were standing right next to him.

“Let me guess, library, studying, straight A’s,” Dean said. It was more of a statement than a question because you both knew that was exactly what Sam did in college. He didn’t party and hook up with girls and get drunk every weekend and wake up in someone new’s bed. No, he went to class and did all his assignments and then he met Jess and settled down into his little apartment where he continued to get good grades only now he had a hot girl to wake up to every morning. Sam nodded at Dean’s comment, as you suspected. “What a geek,” Dean teased.

“We did our research,” you told Dean, anything to change the subject. You took the papers that he was messing with out of Sam’s hands, unrolled them, and showed them to Dean.

“It was bugging me. How is the Hookman tied up with Lori?” Sam asked, setting the scene for why you did the research and what you had found. Dean nodded and started walking through the crowd. You both followed him and Dean read the paper silently before reading it out loud.

“1932 - Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967 - Seminarian held in hippie rampage,” Dean read off the article titles, glancing at your expectant faces. He didn’t get it. He wasn’t putting the dots together so Sam did for him.

“The pattern. In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality.” Dean stopped to listen to Sam talk. You stood close to Sam as boys passed you by, looking at you, pawing at you. Dean noticed and stared at them until they felt uncomfortable and walked away. “And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force,” Sam continued. “Killings carried out - get this - with a sharp instrument,” Sam finished. His face was so filled with excitement that you were almost let down when Dean decided to push the connection.

“What does this have to do with Lori?”

“A man of religion who openly preaches against immorality,” Sam repeated again. Lori’s dad. Dean got it, nodded his head as if he just solved the math equation he had been working on for ages. “Maybe this time instead of trying to save a whole town, he’s trying to save his only daughter.”

“Reverend Sorenson,” Dean commented, reading the pages in his hands again. “You think he’s summoning the spirit?”

“Maybe.” Sam glanced around the room, checking for any prying ears or Lori maybe. “Or you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?” He suggested.

“The spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them. Yeah okay,” Dean ran through the facts as quickly as they went through his mind. How big the possibility of that actually was.

“Without the Reverend ever even knowing it,” Sam finished his thoughts. When they got into their rhythm, they bounced off of each other like that ping pong game at the arcades or the pizza parlor. Words and thoughts, ideas and facts spitting out at each other and bouncing around the room.

“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight,” Dean said to his brother. You wanted nothing less than for Sam to be drinking at a party and keeping an eye on another drunk college girl but he did what needed to be done. He hesitated before answering, which made you feel a little better but not really by much.

“What about Y/N?” Sam asked, no doubt referring to the eyes that kept falling on your butt and the hands that were like magnets to the small of your back. All eyes and hands unwelcomed, unless they were attached to the Winchester boy, who’s honey eyes, were all you could seem to fucking focus on. Focus.

“Um, standing right here and can take care of herself!” You called out after a beat. You gestured your hands up and down your body to further prove that you were actually there and didn’t need to be spoken for. Sam’s eyes following your hands were just a bonus.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Dean agreed with little hesitation until a blonde bombshell rounded the counter and bent over the pool table, pretending she could actually play but you knew and Dean knew that she really just wanted someone to look at her ass. “And I guess we’ll go see if we can find that unmarked grave,” Dean groaned, looking away from the girl and cursing under his breath. You couldn’t help but laugh at him as you followed him through the house.

Sam’s hand grabbed your wrist before you could get too far and he turned you around. “Be careful,” he said. His eyes were searching your face. You nodded and he let go too soon but you walked away from him despite every bone in your body screaming not to.

Once again, you found yourself in a dark, creepy space but this time it was filled with gravestones and you just knew in your heart that there were ghosts all around you. Dean leads the way, the flashlight shining the path that you were following, looking for an unmarked grave that you could potentially dig up. Some leaves crackle and Dean stops. “What was that?” You whisper, nervous of every sound that you could hear. He shook his head and the noise away and continued. “There!” You whispered, pointing eagerly at an unmarked grave with a familiar symbol etched into the cement.

“Aha, here we go,” Dean mumbled quietly while you set all your stuff down. Dean shoved the shovel into the ground and you set up the lights so he could see. You were there for moral support, not actual support. There was no way you were digging up a dead body and Dean knew that. So, he started digging. “Next time, I get to watch the cute girl’s house,” Dean grunted as he shoveled out yet another pile of dirt.

“Just keep going,” you brushed off his comment about Sam being with a cute girl and kept the light, and your eyes, on the hole in the ground you were sitting next to.

“Oh, don’t act like it’s not bothering you that he’s there right now.”

“And why would it?” You asked, looking down at him for once. He took a break, setting the shovel down and coming close to you. Your heart was racing at whatever it was he was going to say and you wanted to look away but you didn’t. You forced yourself to look at him. To prove that nothing was going to shake you.

“Because you’re in love with him, stupid.” You took offense to his comment, shook the light a little bit at the ground below you. Now you broke the eye contact and looked down, studied it as if it could make the comment go away.

“I think you’re close, keep going.” Dean did as you asked, slamming the shovel into the ground. The entire ground below him cracked and he hit it again and there he was the skeleton in all his glory. “Hello, preacher,” you purred.

Dean handed you the shovel and you gladly took it, reaching your hand down to help him up. He groaned as he stood on solid ground and you rummaged through the bags of stuff to find the matches. Dean was cleaning himself off from all the dirt that he was covered in and you handed him the matches. Dean lit one and then lit up the preacher.

Still, no rest for the wicked because after everything was said and done, a phone call came through your next stop was the hospital. You followed the nurses instructions to the room where Lori’s dad was but you were stopped by two officers. “I’m with him. That’s my brother. Hey, brother!” Dean tried to push his way through, but the officers made you stay back. The officer speaking to Sam gave them the signal and they let the two of you through.

You smiled and thanked the guards as Dean just waltzed in as if he owned the place. As if he had a right to be there.

“You okay?” You asked as the two of you met with Sam in the middle of the long corridor that leads from the two of you were waiting to where the Reverend was laying in bed. Where Lori was waiting with him.

“What the hell happened?” Dean asked, peaking around Sam’s body to try and catch a glimpse of what was going on but all you could see was the police officer, keeping a close eye.  

“Hookman,” Sam said simply. But no, that wouldn’t make any sense.

“You saw him?” Dean asked, just as confused as you were but you were flustered and confused and Dean was always cool and calm and collected and he could muster up the words.

“Damn right I did. Why didn’t you torch the bones?” Sam snapped, dipping his head closer to yours so that you could hear him whisper and the rest of the hospital, and the police officer, couldn’t.

“What the hell are you talking about? We did. Are you sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns?” You spoke up, defending yourselves even though you knew that Sam wasn’t really mad. You were projecting and judging by the look Dean gave you, he knew it, too.

“Sure as hell looked like him. And that’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching onto the Reverend,” Sam said, putting more pieces together. Just when you think you’ve figured it all out - the final piece, sitting there in arms reach and you go to put it into place and it’s not the right fit.

“Well yeah the guy wouldn’t send the Hookman after himself,” Dean shrugged as if that was common sense.

“I think it’s latching onto Lori,” Sam offered. A light went off in your head, ding ding ding. Of course, it was latched to Lori. “Last night she found out that her father was having an affair with a married woman.”

“So what?” Dean asked, pushing Sam again. You didn’t even want to know why or how Sam found out that information. What they talked about. Why they were talking about and God, did he kiss her?

“So she’s upset about it. She’s upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, that you get punished,” Sam kept spitting the facts. Like the conversation was on repeat in his brain. Like he wanted to keep her voice and her words close to him so he never forgot it.

“Okay so she’s conflicted and the spirit of Jacob Karns is latching onto her repressed emotions and maybe doing the punishing for her,” Dean kept going, again like ping pong balls.

“Rich comes on too strong. Taylor tries to make her into a party girl. Dad has an affair,” you start listing off all of the reasons the people around Lori got hurt. You actually felt bad for her. What if her dad had died, too? She would have lost a lot of people she was close to and on top of that, she would be the number one suspect. Of course, Sam kissed her.

“Remind me not to piss this girl off,” Dean joked, looking out the giant window that lit up the entire space.

“We burned the bones. We buried them in salt. Why didn’t that stop him?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest and gave Sam your attention. He looked at you, really looked at you for the first time since you saw him today and it was like he slowed down.

“You guys must have missed something,” he shrugged.

“No, I burned everything in that coffin,” Dean defended himself, looking at his brother. His face was stern and serious now, certain that we got everything but you had little to attest to. After all, you sat on the sidelines watching.

“Did you get the hook?” Sam asked as if it was that easy. As if that was such an obvious answer and you should have looked for the damn hook.

“The hook?”

“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, a part of him,” Sam said, again spitting facts and they’re all right all the time and it was fucking annoying.

“So like the bones, the hook is the source of his power,” Dean ping-ponged off of Sam and Sam ping-ponged off of Dean and they looked at each other like they solved the world’s biggest cold case.

“So if we find the hook.”

“We stop the hookman,” they said in unison.

“Ok, that is really starting to get creepy.” You held your hands out, taking a step back and distancing yourself from the creepy twins.

So so you did more research. Back to the drawing board to search for the hook that was keeping Jacob Karns on this Earth and killing people. Not innocent people, you thought, but still people. Was he really that bad? Was he any worse than the three of you?

You sat three in a row at a table in the library, book sprawled out all over the place just searching, searching, searching. “Here’s something, I think,” Dean said, chewed up pen in his mouth. He took it out and used the side that was in his mouth to point at the book, yuck. “Logbook, Iowa State Penetrary. Karns, Jacob. Person affects, disposition thereof,” Dean started drifting off as he spoke. Something about after his execution and his personal belonging and then it got too quiet to really hear him. “St. Barnabas Church.”

“Isn’t that where Lori’s father preaches?” Sam asked, of course, he would know that you thought. The thought came faster than it left and you felt bad for it ever cross your mind because you knew that and Dean knew that and just because Sam knew, doesn’t mean he’s in love with her. “Where Lori lives?”

“Maybe that’s why the Hookman’s been haunting reverends and reverends daughters for the past 200 years,” Dean suggested. The Hookman was lazy. Didn’t want to hunt for it’s pray, it would rather sleep for 20 years and strike at the least suspecting person. Someone with a lot of friends that do bad things.

“Yeah but if the hook were at the church or at Lori’s house, don’t you think someone might have seen it?” Sam asked, stating another obvious fact. “I mean, a blood-stained, silver-handed hook?” You would think, you thought. But people weren’t that smart and things go unnoticed all the time but that wasn’t a good enough answer and you knew it would never be that easy. You wanted nothing more than for the case to be over. For Lori Sorenson to be just another person that we helped along the way and to put thousands of miles in between her and you and Sam.

“Check the church records,” Dean grumbled and got up to receive just that. It took only a few minutes, a few position changes and one single thought - that Sam looked really good sitting in the chair that way, with his hair in his eyes and his biceps popping out as he flipped the pages of the book he was hunched over - to find the answer.

“St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received - silver-handed hook from State Penitentiary. Reforged.” Sam tapped the book the same way he flicked that paper like it did something wrong. “The melted it down, made it into something else,” he sighed and leaned back into the chair. Defeat. That was what was in the air of the library now. Defeat.

“Well! Looks like the case is closed and there’s nothing else we can do!” You chanted, standing up quickly, closing the books near you and walking away from the boys before they could say a word. You knew it wasn’t that simple and if they started something they would finish it but you had to admit that seeing Lori’s face made you want to punch yourself. Yourself for feeling so many feelings for a boy that’s emotionally unavailable and being mad at another girl for seeing the light in his smile the same way you did.

The older boy followed you but you brushed off any questions he asked you and agreed without any arguing that you were going to the church and finishing this job before anyone else got hurt. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? To help people and make sure they weren’t getting hurt but what about you? God, you were selfish.

You pulled up to the church and got out of the Impala. “We can’t take any chances. Anything silver goes in the fire,” Dean said, setting the rules up for the night’s work of finally getting the hook and putting the spirit down for good.

“Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in,” Sam said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He knew where she was, of course, he did. You wanted to kick yourself for the thoughts you kept having and how mean they were for no reason but something about this place and that girl were getting to you.

“All right, take your pick,” Dean offered.

“I’ll take the house.” Of course he would.

“Y/N?” Dean asked, looking at you. You wanted to go with Sam, spend time with him but you knew you would just get pissed off so you decided against it.

“I’ll stay with you,” you said. Dean nodded and Sam walked off, heading towards the house. You started to walk towards the church, away from Sam and Dean.

“Hey,” Dean called out after Sam. You stopped also, looking back at the older Winchester. “Stay out of her underwear drawer.” You rolled your eyes at his comment and when he looked at you to follow, you saw the panic in his face for even saying that out loud but it was brotherly banter and you knew he couldn’t help himself but to tease Sam. You wonder if there was something Dean knew that you didn’t, but you were paranoid.

@matchamendes @stuckupstucky @sillydecoy @jessewa26 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @liztorr1212 @icanreadbookstoo

[laurelsalexis]

Your writing is great, can I request 3 for falice, pls?

send me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a drabble

#3. Please don’t leave | read on ao3

The sound of the gunshot isn’t as foreign as F.P. would like. His biggest fear in getting Fangs out of there and it came true, all too easily. He can only huff as the sound of yelling is all around him, eyes on Archie and Reggie with the gun, turning to see the blood pooling in Fangs stomach. Jughead is yelling and Sweet Pea looks like he’s about to kill someone, Toni up at Fangs’ head with a fury and worry all her own.  

His hand winds up on Fangs’ stomach, putting pressure on the wound, attempting to stop the blood. They need to get him to the hospital and worry about everything else later. He’s sure that Hiram’s appointed Sheriff won’t do anything and the only ones that actually seem concerned with Fangs are those wearing Serpent jackets.  

God, he’s hated the mob mentality in that fucking town since he was their age, before that even. Coming from the Southside has never done him any favors. It hasn’t changed and now he’s got a bleeding kid who looked scared before the gunshot even hit him. A kid that is his responsibility and look how far that gets him.

“Dad.” Jughead pleads, sharp yet frightened. Still a kid no matter how he might have seemed with the Serpents since the mess began. 

It’s a sound that pulls him completely. “We have to take him to the hospital.” He stands, instructing the boys to help him. One arm ends up around him, pushing Fangs’ weight onto him, and letting Jughead stand on the other side.  

There’s no mistaking the looks between Sweet Pea and Toni, that silent conversation that he’s been able to read since he met them. He grabs Sweet Pea’s wrist as he tries to move away.  

“Don’t.” It’s a command.  

“He shot Fangs. I’m not gonna stand here.” Sweet Pea stares at him, the anger impossible to miss, yanking his arm back.

F.P. knows that without a doubt and he hear the moan that Fangs make. He leans towards him and places his hand on stomach and can feel the way the blood just pools in his hand. He doesn’t have time to police Sweet Pea and most of him doesn’t even want to. Not after everything. “Don’t kill him and don’t get yourself arrested. I’m not having this happen to you, too.” 

“You got it.“  

Sweet Pea disappears into the crowd of people as he and Jughead struggle to actually get Fangs out of there. Luckily, for once in the past few months, the hospital isn’t that far and they can get him there. The crowds have dispersed ever since the gunshot went off and a few of the deputies who aren’t corrupt as fuck are actually managing to do something. It’s not on his mind as he and Jughead struggle to move through the door and to someone who knows what they’re actually doing.  

“What happened?” One of the nurses asks. 

“He was shot.” Jughead replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  

“In the stomach.” F.P. adds. 

“Name?” 

“Fangs Forgarty.“  

The nurse nods as she calls one of the other nurses over so they can take Fangs from them. 

“You're gonna be alright.” F.P. whispers into Fangs’ ear before he’s gone and takes a step back.  

The waiting room is filled with people and their Serpent jackets aren’t exactly gaining them any sympathy. Everyone thinks they know what Fangs did but he didn’t kill Midge. F.P. knows it without even needing to ask it. Not Fangs. He knows a few within the gang who would be capable of murder, but Fangs isn’t one of them.

He takes a seat one of the dumb plastic chairs, letting out a breath, closing his eyes. He has blood all over him. His hands, his shirt, even his jacket that he’ll need to make sure to scrub out eventually. The jacket has seen worse and really, he isn’t even complaining. Not when everything went so far to shit so quickly. He’s worried about everything.

It’s war. 

It was war the moment they arrested Fangs but it’s even worse now. That bullet sealed the deal and he should have forced Sweet Pea and Toni to come with them, but he didn’t. Rather he allowed them to go off and he’s worried. Worried about them like he’s worried about Fangs. At least Jughead is there. He’s not losing his son, another son, even.

Jughead takes a seat next to him, twirling his phone in his hand, letting out a heavy breath. 

“You going to call Betty?” 

“I don’t know.“  

“Call her.” F.P. suggests, knowing that it’ll make him feel better. “Let her know you’re okay.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Jughead gets up and walks to where there is some semblance of privacy and calls Betty. 

F.P. leans his head against the wall and settles his hands on his lap. He’s tired. That’s the only way to describe it. He hasn’t really allowed himself to process or breathe. He feels like he’s holding his breath ever since he saw Alice. He hasn’t spoken to her. She doesn’t reach out to him so he doesn’t reach out to her. He’s seen less of Betty as Jughead focuses more on the Serpents so it all feels as if it’s the way it’s meant to be.  

There are no excuses he can make to seek her out without things crossing into territories it shouldn’t. It’s something he can accept given how long he’d went prior without speaking to her. It won’t be another twenty-five years and that’s about as much comfort as he has.

Comfort he needs when he hurts so much more than he can even explain. He’s struggling to process everything. Fangs is only the latest casualty and he’s angry. So angry. He’s having trouble controlling it and knows it’s a slippery slope but he hasn’t had a drink so he’s made it that far. He really wishes he had a fucking drink in his hand. 

Jughead plops down next to him once again. “She didn’t answer.” 

F.P. nods, looking over at his son. He looks a little worse for wear but he’s alive. 

“What are we going to do?” Jughead whispers, putting his phone in his pocket.

“Call her back later.” 

“Dad.” 

He doesn’t have a good answer. Not when he doesn’t know if Fangs is even going to make it through the next hour. “We’re going to sit here for a bit.” He tells him. He just needs to sit and process for a moment before they make any grand plans. The wheels in his son’s head are probably already turning but those plans are ran on emotion. Like whatever Sweet Pea is doing is on emotion.

He can’t afford that. He needs to think logically and try to get themselves out of the mess they are in. Such a damn mess. 

That lasts twenty minutes before Jughead needs to do something. That something involves pacing that ends up driving F.P. up the damn wall. He punches the bridge of his nose as he tries his best to not scold his worried son.  

“I’m going to go walk around. Get something to eat.” 

“Good idea.” 

F.P. folds his arms across his chest. He should at least wash the blood off of him but he doesn’t bother. Rather, he just finds himself comfortable. As comfortable as he can be within the hospital waiting room. He’s going to wait for an update and decide what to do from there. 

It’s only when the sound of heels on the tile that fill the room that he even bothers to open his eyes. 

Alice.  

She’s a sight for sore eyes but it doesn’t make him feel better. She had recently. Seeing her was a highlight for him, but as he sits in the chair he isn’t happy. He’s upset and resentful, but understanding. It’s a complicated mix of emotions that he doesn’t know what to do with and doesn’t even want to do anything with them.  

“F.P.” She greets in the Alice tone that is definitely the one married to Hal.  

“Alice.” He looks up at her but doesn’t move from where he is. “And what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I am here in a reporter capacity.” 

F.P. scoffs. “Bullshit.“  

“Don’t make this difficult.” It’s a softer plead, the pain clear in her voice. Not even Alice can mask everything.

F.P. doesn’t look at her and rather, he shakes his head. He unfolds his arms as he sits up a little more proper in the chair. 

“You’re covered in blood.” Alice murmurs with a frown. Her purse rests on a chair and she sits down next to him, a little too close, angling her body towards him. 

He turns to look at her, features soft, unable to help himself. Something about Alice just makes him melt. It annoys him but he would not have it any other way. “It’s not mine.” 

She reaches out and takes his hand in her own, inspecting him, from face to hands, before looking at him in the eyes. “It could have been.” 

“It could have been any of us.” F.P. shrugs and is just glad it wasn’t worse. Not yet, at least. “It still might be."  

"Where’s Jughead?” 

“Stress eating."  

Her hand raises up to his cheek, brushing against him. He flinches in pain he didn’t know was there. "How bad?” 

“You’ll live.” She tells him, not letting go of the small contact. Even if people there can definitely see them. 

“Everything is shit.” F.P. says after a few moments of just staring at her. He needs to break the silence and not fall into something neither of them are capable of handling at the moment. 

Alice pulls back and settles her hands in her lap. She focuses on everything but him. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” There’s an instinct in him to comfort her. He wants to. There is so much he wants to say and ignore the own way his heart aches. He wants to hold her and tell her it’s okay. Everything will be okay. That some actions do not define them. He does not of that. Rather he keeps to himself, looking down at his bloodied hands. They’ll talk when the time is right but that’s not now, not when everything around them is chaos. From the Serpents to the Black Hood. “Things good with Hal?” 

“Yeah.” She nods, still not looking at him. “My family is back together.” 

“Good.” He means it but doesn’t mean it. “I’m happy for you Alice.” 

They fall into a silence that is heavy. It’s loaded with so much that is unspoken but neither move to break it. Rather they sit next to each other in a waiting room that only empties further. It’s them with a few other people. Mostly it’s just nurses walking in and out. Never having an update on Fangs. 

It’s causes the anxiety and tension in F.P. to only rise. 

“So, can I get a quote?” 

“So you can trash the Serpents in the Register? When did you even go back?” F.P. tries not to sound as accusatory as he does. Clearly showing how much he fails.

“It was Betty’s idea.” Alice replies simply. “I won’t trash you. I am on your side, F.P.” 

“No, you’re not.” He whispers, turning to her, shaking his head. “You’re not. Publish your article, do what you want, write what you want, and stay in that miserable excuse of a marriage. You can’t be half a Serpent and you have always made your choice.” He swallows, pausing for just a moment. “I don’t mean it to be cruel but you made your choice. You went back to Hal. I can’t have you here.”

“Are we really going to do this now?”

F.P. stands, straightening his jacket, looking down at her. Deep down he knows he’ll do anything for her but right now, he can’t. Not when everything is spiraling out of control. He doesn’t have time to sit there and worry about her, them. “No, we’re not.” He turns to leave. Not that he actually takes a step, rather he swallows back all his emotion. He does his best to breath, running his hands over his face, biting down on his lip. 

“Please,” she whispers, “don’t leave.” 

It’s the words he has wanted to hear for so long. He turns, enough so he can look at her. “You’re quote. Uh,” he pauses, taking his gaze off of her, “I don’t know. The Northside is the true problem in this town and has been since it’s creation. If Fangs dies it’s on them.” 

“F.P.” She stands and takes a step towards him. “Please.” 

“Goodbye, Alice.” It takes everything in him to say that. He turns around and pulls is phone out of his pocket to call Joaquin as he walks away just so he doesn’t let himself go back to her.

[argentarium]

kara sevda (4) ↠ stilinski

author ; fessa

rating ; 18+ nsfw

pairing ; fuckboy!stiles X oc!reader

word count ; 1987

warnings ; angst?? , i cant even tell you this time idk how i feel about this part, i feel like this is trash except the dream scene but oh well

a/n ; wait… did you guys really think i wasn’t going to post another part? well you were wrong.. don’t ever judge a book by it’s cover  

i. ii. iii. -

*not my gif*

kara sevda

/noun/

1. blinding love;

literally translates as “black love”

   The blaring noise of his alarm clock caused the spastic boy to jerk awake from his recurring dream. As he sat up, he clutched his head in his hand, wiping up the cold sweat, thinking of the details and trying to remember if anything changed.

Your voice echoed through his ears as a light giggle caused him to sit up in his bed. His room was no longer the same; everything was pure white: the walls, his blankets, his pillows, and even his clothes. Stiles was naturally inquisitive and, as curious as his white-washed bedroom was, he could not help but follow the sweet, soft and inviting sound of your laughter.

   Slowly, the familiar giggle began to die down, but he could not let go of your voice. He felt compelled to pursue it, not wanting the precious noise that was your laughter to leave his ears. Stiles rushed to his door and swung it open, revealing not his hallway but a golden light, shimmering in his eyes. He held up his hand, blocking out some of the rays, but his eyes still squinted as he began walking a few steps and found himself inside a grand meadow of beautiful, blooming, blue jasmine.

Your melodic laughter made contact with his ears again, and the instinct to find you overtook him again. He scanned the meadow until he laid his eyes upon you. You were across the field, decorating a young lamb with flowers, nurturing the small creature with your gentle touch. Stiles, however, was not just watching your actions, he was gazing at you with awe. He found himself entranced with the way your head fell back, laughing more when the lamb nibbled at you as your natural hair reflected the warm light. All the bright hues of azure contrasted with your long, ivory dress – which Stiles worried would get dirty from the grass – and he was truly able to see you happy.

   You never looked like this before and never in his life had he seen you look so beautiful. Stiles had never seen your hair down before and he had never seen you calm either, it was always homework, quizzes, and tests which always had to not just be passed, but absolutely aced.

“Stiles!” He heard you call out, causing him to snap out of his trance. “Stiles! Come help me add more flowers!” He saw you flashing a kind and warm smile towards him. Stiles could not and would not say no for anything in the world. Nothing was going to stop him from being with you now that he finally saw you, for what you really were: radiating beauty, inside and out.

   Once he finally reached you, he watched you stand up and brush off a bit of debris that had caught on your dress. You leaned back down and   picked a flower out of the earth next to you. You held it out, delicately brushing the petals out before looking up at him. “I picked this one just for you. It’s the most beautiful one here, don’t you think?” You said softly, holding it out for him. “You deserve the best, Stiles. Here.” Stiles did not have to think twice about taking the flower.

As soon as he went to grasp the flower, however, something else happened. The flower disappeared and a wooden stake appeared to be tightly held in his hand, already have impaled your chest. Stiles’s eyes widened in disbelief, “No, no, Y/N, I swear I didn’t-”

   “Why did you do this to me, Stiles?” You sobbed between coughing spurts of blood. “What have you done?” Stiles looked between you and the lamb, which was quickly dying too. The harmless creature looked as if it was stabbed along with you as it laid on its side with a large gash in its stomach. From the lamb’s stomach oozed something other than blood but some type of black substance. Stiles looked from the lamb back to you in shock and horror.

You were hunched over, tear stains all over your face, your throat burning from the coughing up of the metallic liquid on your tongue. Your pure white dress was no longer pure, nor was the beautiful field. It was now a dark, inhabitable area with bats flying around, bothering the corpse of the lamb. Stiles lurched forward suddenly, seeing as you were about to topple over. He caught you in his arms and held you, letting your head rest on his knees as he caressed your face. “No, no, no, stay with me Min, stay with me..” Stiles began to cry. Your breaths became weaker, and more blood spurted out of your mouth involuntarily. “No! Don’t do this Y/N, don’t-”

   “Rise and shine, kid, it’s time to go to school.” Noah announced resting on the doorframe, knocking on the door, coffee in hand. “I’m heading down to the station, make sure to be on time for school.”

   Lifting up his head, Stiles flashed a flat smile to his dad, waving the sheriff off. Stiles sighed, pushing himself off of his bed and picking up a few shirts lying around his room, sniffing them until he came across one which did not reek lacrosse as much as the others.

Stiles’s days were dark, ever since his mistake he had been spiraling. He promised himself he would not have sex with you because if he did, he would know that everything would be ruined. He reminded himself day by day to not even try anything on you since you were the only girl who was truly in his life considering that Lydia barely acknowledged him and Allison did not count.

It wasn’t like he was desperate but he knew he couldn’t get a girl to stay. It didn’t take him so long to make himself a sex legend in the school, but that was all he had because other than that he was just a nerdy kid, the bench warmer, and the slowest runner on the lacrosse team. He couldn’t impress any girl with his spastic, know-it-all personality enough to make them stay.

With this being said, if Stiles couldn’t just entice one of the many girls he has been with, how was he ever going to make you stay?

What seemed like a headstrong, cocky, egotistical high school fuckboy was all a lie but he was an insecure boy with attachment issues. Stiles believed one way or another, no matter what you did to even protest, you would leave him for what he did to you

He simply stopped the inevitable from happening by just ripping off the bandaid now. The pain lasts for a moment before you don’t even remember why it hurt.. but why was he still hurting?

Dwelling on the thought made him want to try to get you back. And Stiles wanted you to be his best friend but he broke a promise to himself, doing the unthinkable to you. You were a piece of artwork, only to gaze at, not to touch.

Stiles felt no different than anytime else. School hadn’t changed, coach hadn’t changed, and he simply was stuck in this stagnant point where he was so fixated on being indifferent.

Stiles was walking out of chemistry when he noticed something did not feel right. He noticed you were not in class like how he noticed every single time you were absent otherwise yet he still forced his toxic self to stay away from you. As he was treading along the hallways of Beacon Hills High School, he noticed the janitor rummaging through your locker.

Somehow, the mere act of invasion sparked something in the teenager which was not present in his system for weeks. A mild fury rushed over him as his facial features contorted to fit this slightest bit of emotion he finally revealed.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Stiles jabbed at the worker. “You can’t just go through someone’s stuff, that’s invasion of privacy!”

The janitor sighed boredly, turning to the overzealous boy. “I’m just doing my job, kid.” He shrugged, pulling out pieces of papers and dropping them in the trashcan next to him.

“Well, she’s going to come back and see all her stuff has disappeared!” Stiles hissed, placing his hands on his hips as he waited for the janitor to stop his actions.

“How would she know if it disappeared if she does not go to this school anymore?” The janitor sassed at Stiles, rolling his eyes as he tugged a random picture off of locker door and let it fall in the trash.

Stiles’s eyes softened, his head slightly tilting, “What?” He whispered in a faint tone.

“Listen, kid,” The janitor began as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, showing off what looked like a list of chores, “Whoever this is left the school,” he pointed to the specific point on the list, “and this whole thing has everything I need to finish today so if you could just get to class, my life would be much easier.”

Stiles was in the midst of shock as he stared at the middle-aged man. He did not expect you to leave Beacon Hills, let alone not even mention it. Then again, Stiles remembered everything he said to you and instantly regretted it.

“Uh.. Why don’t you just do whatever’s next on your list, I can finish this for you.” Stiles offered, his eyes locking on the picture the janitor set in the trash bin.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in-“

“Great! So by the time you’re back this will be all cleaned out!” Stiles faked his eagerness as he pushed in the way of the janitor and began to take out loads of papers, which created more of a mess.

The janitor put his hands up in surrender, “Alright, kid, have at it.” He sighed, walking away. “Weird…” he muttered under his breath and Stiles snapped his head towards him and glared at the back of the man’s head.

Stiles soon forgot about the janitor and reached in the trashcan, pulling out the photo strip from a photobooth you two created a memory at. Stiles reminisced on that day, he remembered going ice skating with Lydia, Allison, and Scott, having a blast spending time with his crush until Lydia had some sort of episode. He knew he had to take you with him one day and he did, and he admit to himself he had a much better time with you.

It was a continuous cycle, a picture or a pen, even a piece of paper with writing triggered a memory of when he was still your best friend. He stood there the whole class period, not caring if he skipped or what the consequences were. All the bottled up emotions were seeping through and he did not want to make it stop.

As soon as the bell rang, Scott came walking out of his class and walked down the halls to his next class. He wanted to see his best friend again, to see how he was doing or if he was any better today than the other days. As Scott was nearing his next class he saw Stiles against a vacant locker, staring at something in his hands.

Scott walked up to Stiles to see what he was up to. Once Scott got closer he was able to notice the glossiness in Stiles’s eyes and feel his sorrow while he took a look at the strip of pictures.

Scott was eventually going to tell Stiles about your leave but he was beat to it. He looked between the motionless Stiles and the picture before clearing his throat, “Hey.” He said simply, waiting for Stiles to yell at him for not saying anything to him.

Stiles quietly turned to Scott, his eyes teary, “I messed up.”

tags :) ; @squirels-angels-and-moose @were-cheetah-stiles @shameless-danni @danopeg @aestheticallytrashysunflower @lcnelykth @rememberstilinski @wydobrien @amethystmerm4id @charmedjeri @itskatiemahoney @leilaelizabth @pufflethehuff @parislight @unfoxs @infinitydunbar @ellie-bee242 @iknowisoundcrazy @mieczzyslaw @gluetwentyfourobrien @xqueenarianax @danielisnotonbranding @iknowisoundcrazy @surpeme-bean @maddie110201 @danny-the-coolest @stilinski-lover-24 @vogue-sweetie @stilinski-stydia-obrien @codysdimples @awkwarddly @xmadwonderland @oneshot-obsessed

and an amazing special thank you & dedication to cat ( @were-cheetah-stiles ) because without her, i wouldnt have made it through in terms of writing this part

[asagi-s-garden]

My headcanon for Teen Wolf's ending, wich will probably play a part in most of my canonverse fics- to some degree, anyway:

-Stiles drops out of the FBI program because he's needed in Beacon Hills where Derek decides to get a house and actually stay for much the same reason, they dedicate pretty much all of their time to the cause so they live off of the Hale money (Stiles tries very hard to argue about it but Derek won't have it- he pays off the sheriff's house and is nearly shot for it)

-Not long after the events with the Anuk-Ite Stiles discovers his magic and he and Lydia break up after realizing just how little they worked as a couple, but remained best freinds

-Lydia takes classes either online or at a local college but spends her free time mostly helping with pack stuff, she takes a renewed interest in Parrish and reconnects with Jackson over skype

-Scott and Chris start organizing their Omega adoption program thingie and essentially end up like Sam and Dean from the early seasons of Supernatural- lots of traveling, motel rooms and drive-throughs and rock music, they get their info from Stiles and Lydia who do the researching back home

-Derek either rebuilds the Hale house or builds an entirely new house- one that's pretty huge and can accomodate large pack, Stiles ends up moving in after they get their first beta because he spends so much time over there that at this point it's rediculous not to

-Derek and Stiles are essentially Pack Dads and take care of all of the new baby betas who get brought their way, they live in the new pack house with Derek as their "legal guardian" (the sheriff and Melissa smudge the legal documents all the time so that things like social services don't get involved) Stiles takes his momming to a new level and atleast once a week he apologizes to his father for ever being a teenager, Derek is the tough but fair parent who attends all "I legally have to be here because you're underage" nonsense and is constantly distressed over anything that has to be handled with fragility (he looks like a stunned possum the first time one of the new betas goes on a date and their date's father insists on meeting him)

-Derek trains them in combat and the wolfly ways, Stiles trains them in anchoring and control, they're a well oiled machine (also: Derek is in charge of laundry and Stiles is in charge of cooking because Stiles always ends up turning things pink and Derek is 10000% better at baking than cooking)

-Along the way Scott runs into Kira again and she joins he and Chris for their recruitment/rescue mission, eventually she and Scott get back together, wich is fine because Malia has moved on anyhow

-"Eventually" Stiles and Derek decide that if they're already raising a house of kids they might as well be giving themselves the advantages to being parents- like, you know, dating and kissing and marriage and stuff like that

-(It actually doesn't take very long at all and Scott is floored at how quickly they go from "We're just dudes platonically raising a bunch of supernatural kids" to "STILES GO TAKE A SHOWER ALL I SMELL IS DEREK")

-The sheriff and several of his deputies are constantly covering up for supernatural related nonsense, so is Melissa, the two of them meet for lunch every day and mostly just sigh about it

-Sooner or later they're no longer just rescuing stray Omegas and random magical teens, they start coming across orphaned children too- Derek hears the word "child"- not kid, younger than kid, apparently- and cuts off Scott's sentence asking what pappers he needs to sign

-Stiles and Derek end up with a bunch of actual kids and not just teenagers and they never really did the formal "So.... kids..." talk but they never really did formal anything so it works for them

-Scott, Kira, and Chris come home for breathing once every couple of weeks and stay for a few days but they kind of like being on the road so they don't mind going out when the cause calls

-Every once in a wile Scott is forced to turn someone who's dieing, usually freinds/family of one of the new betas or potential new betas, he eventually gets better at handling it but it takes alot of coming to terms with things

-Those who stay in Beacon Hills range from Malia- who's always the first to leave when a big fight breaks out- to the sheriff, who will leave but only under dire circumstances, Stiles and Derek tend to stay alot more than go just because they have kids to take care of and are reluctant to put a house full of supernatural orphans off on Melissa and the sheriff for days on end when they can avoid it (the last time they got home and their pheonix tween daughter had singed her grandfather's eyebrows off)

-Liam and the rest of the nu pack + the new betas and kids actually have pretty stable lives, they do fight when they need to and are happy to help their pack but they're awarded the normalcy that the older pack members didn't get to have by being able to travel and have actual jobs and stuff

-"Eventually" Scott and Chris step on someone's toes by accidentally trying to adopt a beta that already had a pack- the Alpha was NOT. HAPPY. until Chris called up Derek Hale, who straightened things out easily, wich began a very long process of connecting to other packs in the country to warn them about the hunters and work together to keep things safe

-Eventually Beacon Hills becomes the heart of one big nation-wide interconnected system of packs and covens and skulks and whatever other term for groups of supernaturals you can find (the hunters are, obviously, out-numbered)

-The war never ends, because hate never ends, and even long after Monroe is dead, and her successor is dead, and her successor's grand successor is dead, there are still hunters out there breaking the code, but it only takes a few years for the numbers to dwindle into something more manageable and allow everyone in the supernatural world some breathing room, plus with all of the extra help across the country the pressure can be spread out and those in Beacon Hills don't feel like the only protectors anymore

-More and more humans slowly find out about the supernatural- and support them- but that's another story for another time, things change, people settle down, stories are told and hair turns grey and generations keep coming through but their stories are progressively better than each generation before them

The adventure will always continue

[writing-in-riverdale]

heartbreak | part two

part one: https://writing-in-riverdale.tumblr.com/post/161208572783/heartbreak-cheryl-blossom-x-reader

written by: kelly

edited by: @jugheadxreaderinyourhead

anonymous said: part two of heart break!!! pretty please💚

chapter song: born to die / lana del rey

✿

weeks had passed since the incident at sweetwater river. the little sleepy town of riverdale had been woken with a violent crime.

jason blossom had been murdered a single gun shot wound to the head.

who knew that one crime could cause such communal outrage. the teenagers in town were all put on a curfew by town officials - for their safety until the killer was apprehended.

this all came as a shock to the blossom family, especially cheryl.

she traded in her classic attitude for a more stern, dark and morbid counterpart.

her girlfriend, y/n, was getting rest at home after being struck by a car on the very day that jason was murdered. the sweet and innocent town was now in trouble.

how much trouble they were in was the real mystery.

✿

“look betty i’m not getting involved.” my voice was stern.

“y/n, you’re the only one who was close enough to cheryl and jason to have a good enough story for the blue and gold. even if it’s only a statement it’ll mean the world to juggie and i.” betty pleaded, eyes set firmly on mine.

my room was starting to bore me. i had been on bed rest for 3 weeks now and i couldn’t stand it anymore.

“if you think i’m going to throw cheryl under the bus you’re sorely mistaken betty.” i expressed, trying my best not to break eye contact.

“betty she’s right, there’s not much she can help us with anyway.” jughead sighed as he stood in the corner, elbow perched up against my bookshelf.

“jughead, she’s being selfish.” betty replied, earning a small chuckle from jughead and a jaw drop from me.

“i’m being selfish?” i spat out.

“yes!” she retorted.

“oh my fucking god, you are so lucky i can’t get up because i swear i’m about to slap the shit out of you!” i insisted.

“really? you’re threatening me with violence?” she responded sarcastically.

“enough you two!” jughead roared, his deep voice booming off of all four walls.

this earned a mutual silence.

“good. that’s what i thought.” jughead said taking a deep breath in.

“now is not the time for you to come in here and dictate to me betty, i’m not in the mood. jason’s funeral is tomorrow and i have to be there for her. if you’re going to be there i insist you do all of you’re questioning there. sheriff keller said that the killer will most likely show up.” i mumble, struggling to compose myself.

“yeah, whatever.” betty repeated, getting up and leaving my room without another word.

how rude.

“sorry about her y/n, it’s been hard without you.” jughead acknowledged, coming closer to say goodbye.

“don’t feel the need to make excuses for her shitty behaviour juggie. tell her to keep her eyes open tomorrow because one of my crutches will be going right up her ass.” i huff, still not over the audacious comment betty made.

“will do.” he responded with a little wave as he left.

now back to square one. alone in the room. i need to prepare myself for tomorrow morning.

✿

the morning was sombre. the dark clouds hung over our little town, fog spilled through the streets. it was all just really morbid.

i was reasonably happy to get out of my house, and i was excited to see my girlfriend.

i stood in front of the mirror, looking at my big ugly cast on my leg. i broke my leg in three places when i got run over, so the result of that mess up was a cast on my right leg from the knee down.

i was matching it with a small, black, long sleeved dress. i wore my hair in a bun and i applied some light makeup.

archie offered to take me to thornhill so i was waiting on him after i finished getting ready.

archie finally arrived and i got into the car.

“so, this day is going to be….interesting.” archie added, clearing his throat.

“yeah. i’m just here for cheryl.” i said as we pulled up to the gates of the mansion.

“i don’t blame you. ronnie said that something’s going on, like they have a plan or something.” archie alleged.

i turned my head really fast shooting him a super confused look.

here's the thing - ever since veronica came to town, i’ve noticed she’s been injecting herself into situations that don’t involve her. it rubs me the wrong way, but she’s too new to understand that it’s wrong to poke your head around where it’s not welcome.

especially in riverdale.

archie parked the truck and he came around the other side to let me out of the car. he hands me my crutches and i move slowly into the building, heads turning and looking at me as i walk in.

i see kevin at the other end of the grand room, i make my way up to go and talk to him.

“hey sweetie.” kevin declared, clearly he had a pep in his step.

“hey, have you seen cheryl?” i questioned.

“ugh.” kevin said rolling his eyes. they hated each other.

“kevin.” i whined.

“yeah yeah i know, jessica rabbit is with ronnie in her room.” he replied.

i went off to go and get my girl.

walking through the hall, i manage to get to her door and i knock. i hear whispers inside and i see veronica exit the room in such a way, that she didn’t open the door fully, like she was hiding something.

“hey y/n.” veronica repeated, stuttering and looking confused.

“hey, i’m just gonna speak to cheryl for a sec.” i said trying to open the door, veronica’s hand quickly interjecting.

“she’s busy.” veronica stated really fast.

“ronnie, i need to talk to her.” i state, nudging her out of the way.

as i walk into the room, i see cheryl on her all to familiar bed, dressed in a striking white dress. she looked gorgeous, it took a minute of staring at my girlfriend before i realise what’s going on.

“cheryl what are you doing?” i asked, shocked.

“y/n, don’t freak out.” veronica cautioned.

“is your name cheryl?” i question her, cocking my eyebrow.

veronica looked back at me clearly in annoyance.

“i’m going to go up and speak on my brothers behalf, i feel like it’s what i need to do babe.” she remained calm and somewhat rational, even though the idea was simply ridiculous.

“baby your parents are going to kill you. i can’t let you do this.” i state, making my way closer to her other more suitable black gown.

“i’m pretty sure she can make her own mind up y/n.” veronica added with a sassy tone.

“oh get fucked ronnie. you don’t know the half of what's going on so don’t pretend like you do. go and butt in somewhere where you may be of use, because in this situation you’re useless.” i snap, feeling a bitter taste on my tongue.

“wow. betty was right. you are selfish.” veronica blinks, words hitting me like a ton of bricks.

“love how you’re siding with betty when just last week you kissed the guy she liked when you knew that she liked him. it’s really cute veronica"

i pause with venom dripping from my words.

“anyway, cheryl i don’t know why you feel it’s okay to do something so impulsive on such a sensitive day. if you want to go through with it, i’ll back you up because i love you. however, i’m not going to be here for this drama. it’s too much.”

i let the words spill out of my mouth as i turn around and make my way to the door.

“y/n wait!” she added trying to get my attention.

i turn around and look right at her.

“i’m sorry, i have to do this. it’s for ja-”

“don’t say it’s for jason cheryl. it’s for you. you want to stick it to your parents and that’s okay. i just don’t want to be a part of it.” i repeat myself again, this time i turn around and really leave the room.

as i left thornhill that foggy morning, everything was put into perspective.

this town was changing whether i liked it or not and there was no way i could change it. this only left me with one option.

i need to call my dad in new york and i need to get out of here.

tag list: @hauntedcherryblossombanana-blog @sadbreakfastclb @jugandbettsdetectiveagency @kindfloweroflove @fragilefrances @mydelightfulcollectiontyphoon @onceuponagladerhead @natalieroseg @sardonic-jug @hiimalyssawriter

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Book Blitz: Grand Finale: Breakup in a Small Town by Kristina Knight (Giveaway)

On Tour with Prism Book Tours.

Book Tour Grand Finale for

Breakup in a Small Town

By Kristina Knight

We hope you enjoyed the tour! If you missed any of the stops you can see snippets, as well as the link to each full post, below:

Launch - Note from the Author

Hi, everyone! I’m so excited to be back with you all for the next book in my Slippery Rock series! Breakup in a Small Town picks up about three months post-tornado. Adam is home from the hospital, but things aren’t right for him. . .and things are definitely not right for Jenny, either...

Celluloid Diaries - Best Movie Couples of All Time

I am a sucker for a great movie couple – Joan Wilder and Jack T. Colton (Romancing the Stone), Vivien and Edward (Pretty Woman), and Jack and Rose (Titanic) are all on my list. I like couples that banter, couples that laugh together, couples that are hot for each other…even if they’d lost a little of that sparkle. Here are a few of my favorite movie couples...

It's All About the Romance - Author Interview

Do you have any personal heroes/heroines? I do! I find Nora Roberts’ dedication to writing inspiring, and I’m awed at everything Lisa Kleypas does. I have a friend (Hi, Heather!!) who has started a handmade greeting card company – she writes amazing, inspirational, heartfelt cards that are simply beautiful. Last but not least, my sister-in-law, who became a runner for the first time over the age of 30, has run in marathons and half-marathons, and helped me through my first 5K this summer (Hi, Janell!) is one of the most genuine people I know, and I admire her so much!

underneath the covers - Excerpt

“It occurs to me that I’ve been too soft on you.” Jenny said the words carefully as she pulled to the stoplight outside Mallard’s Grocery. No inflection. No anger. Just words. Calm, cool, concise words. From the corner of her eye, she saw Adam’s head snap in her direction. Maybe this change in tactics was a good idea. “I don’t like this any more than you do, and I know you have it much worse than me because you’re living it. But I’m living it, too.”

Thoughts of a Blonde - Review

"Turmoil and heartache snare our attention with this latest dip into Kristina Knight’s Slippery Rock series. If you’ve read the previous books, you will recognize Adam and Jenny and already be familiar with what happened to him. I was hooked on the story just from enjoying the series, but watching them fight for their relationship kept me even more enthralled. She was hard to like, but I enjoyed their story."

Book Lover in Florida - Excerpt

He liked the prickliness even less than he liked that look he’d seen in Jenny’s beautiful eyes a moment before. He didn’t want to talk about whoever she’d met for lunch or what that meant. He didn’t want to talk at all. He just wanted to feel her mouth on his. Adam reached across the space between them and pulled her closer. Her mouth opened slightly, and her hazel eyes went dark.

Always Reading - Review

"This book had me on the edge of my seat. I was not sure what was going to happen between Jenny and Adam. Stay together or stay apart? It was nice reading about a couple that was married already and facing a life event that changed so much in both Jenny and Adam's life."

Hearts & Scribbles - Adam’s Top 3 Tips to Rekindle Love

It took her asking me to leave to see how much I wanted to stay. How much I wanted her, and I had no idea how to get her back. I needed a plan, and I’ve never been much of a planner. Things just kind of happened for me: I played football and happened to be good at it, I took a job with my dad because I enjoyed it, and I married Jenny because she took my breath away. I never had to work hard at anything. I had to work hard to win her back, though. Here’s how I did it...

Nicole's Book Musings - Excerpt

“This is all about you.” “No, it’s not. It’s about you. You haven’t done one thing for me.” “I sent you flowers to apologize.” “I hate cut flowers. I’ve never once asked for cut flowers. I didn’t carry them when we eloped. I don’t keep them in vases around the house.” “You work in the garden all the time.” “Because I like plants,” she exclaimed, unable to keep the annoyance from her voice.

Becky on Books - Review

"This book was hard to read, but rewarding at the same time, because Adam and Jenny do (eventually–talk about waiting until the last minute; argh!) figure it out. And watching two people who have been together forever but are just finally figuring out how to really be together at last makes for one heck of a story."

The Bookworm Chronicles - Excerpt

Her gaze met his, and it didn’t matter that she’d asked him to move out. That their marriage might be over. What mattered was the look in his eyes. The green darkened to nearly emerald, and seemed to cut right through the confusion she felt at what she wanted, professionally and personally. All that mattered was that, for this moment, the two of them were together. He’d come out of the shell she had begged him to exit.

Rockin' Book Reviews - Excerpt

“I should have been paying more attention,” she admitted. “I should have ducked. My reflexes are a little slower than I remember.” But he didn’t seem upset by that fact. A few weeks ago, slower reflexes might have sent him into a days-long funk. He put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m okay, Jenny.” “I know.” “If a tornado can’t break me by collapsing a building on my head, you’re not going to do it with an umbrella.”

Harlie's Books - Review

"I just adored this book and this series is fast becoming one of all time favorites. The characters are vivid, emotional, funny, realistic and it’s always fun to go back and see where the other characters are in the town. And I can’t wait for Aiden’s story; whenever that may be. Again, I just loved how Ms. Knight made the story so realistic, emotional, at times raw and I truly felt sympathetic to both characters. I was cheering for them to the very end. And what an ending it was. *sigh, swoon, sniffles*"

Mello & June, It's a Book Thang! - Jenny’s Top 5 Ways to Keep Love

Falling in love is the easy part. I didn’t know that until my life fell apart a couple of months ago, but what I’ve realized is that falling in love? It’s easy. A romantic gesture, candlelight, focused attention . . . those things make it so easy to fall in love with another person. Staying in love? That is a whole different battle. So, if you were in love but now you think love might have left you behind? Here’s what you do...

Teatime and Books - Excerpt

She had to figure out what she wanted, without Adam's hands in her hair, making her wish for things that just weren't true. She had been frustrated before the accident. She wanted more than to take the kids to school and pick them up. To cook the meals and clean the house. She wanted to go on dates with her husband. There had to be more to life than being a mom and a housekeeper.

Inside the Mind of an Avid Reader - Review

"Breakup in a Small Town is the third book in the Slipper Rock series by Kristina Knight. I can't help it I absolutely love every single visit I make to this town. I don't know what it is but Kristina always blows me away. Jenny and Adam's story is no different. This couple has been through so much and this has caused a rocky marriage. . . . You will adore this series. I recommend all three books!"

And don't forget to enter the giveaway below, if you haven't already...

Breakup in a Small Town

(Slippery Rock #3) Kristina Knight

Contemporary Romance

Paperback & ebook, 384 pages

September 1st 2017 by Harlequin Superromance

This isn't the man she married… 

Jenny Buchanan never considered what "for better or for worse" meant when she married Adam Buchanan at nineteen. Six years and two little boys later, "for worse" arrives in the form of a tornado that ravages Slippery Rock and injures Adam. Now he's a stranger to his family…and love won't be enough to bring him back. 

Only when Jenny asks him to move out does Adam become the husband she needs…but Adam isn't the only one who's changed. As their attraction sparks back to life, Jenny and Adam must learn what it is to grow up—and grow together—before this small-town breakup lasts forever.

Goodreads│Amazon│Barnes & Noble│Harlequin│iBooks│Kobo

Other Books in the Series

Famous in a Small Town

(Slippery Rock #1) Kristina Knight

Contemporary Romance

Paperback & ebook, 384 pages

May 1st 2017 by Harlequin Superromance

Lifestyles of the small-town famous

Forced to leave Nashville after a scandal, Savannah Walters has come home to Slippery Rock, Missouri, with a bruised ego and her singing career in jeopardy. As if that isn't humiliating enough, on her way into town she's rescued by her swoon-worthy childhood crush, Collin Tyler.

His hands are full running the family orchard and dealing with his delinquent teen sister, so Collin doesn't need to get involved with someone as fiery and unpredictable as Savannah. But the intense attraction between them can't be denied. And when disaster strikes, they'll both be surprised by who's still standing when the dust settles.

Goodreads│Amazon│Barnes & Noble│Harlequin│iBooks│Kobo

Rebel in a Small Town

(Slippery Rock #2) Kristina Knight

Contemporary Romance

Paperback & ebook, 384 pages

July 1st 2017 by Harlequin Superromance

He's not giving up his family without a fight James Calhoun has never been able to resist Mara Tyler, or her knack for mischief. Her reputation as a reckless teenager drove Mara from their hometown. So Slippery Rock is the last place James ever expected to see her, and Mara's timing couldn't be worse. With the upcoming election for sheriff, she threatens the squeaky-clean image James needs to win. Because Mara has brought with her the result of their steamy affair: his two-year-old son, Zeke. After the initial shock, James is determined to have both his family and career. He just needs to convince Mara that her home is where it's always been. With him.

Goodreads│Amazon│Barnes & Noble│Harlequin│iBooks│Kobo

And coming November 2017...

Christmas in a Small Town

(Slippery Rock #4)

Kristina Knight

Contemporary Romance

Paperback & ebook, 384 pages

November 1st 2017 by Harlequin Superromance

Running out on her wedding was the best decision ever! 

A cheating fiancé sends Camden Harris fleeing to her grandparents' home in Missouri. When her ex follows, determined to win her back, Camden makes a deal with neighbor Levi Walters: they'll pretend to be in love and she'll support his plan to buy her grandparents' land. 

The boy from her childhood has grown up into an impressive man. His charm, good looks and sweet gestures make it difficult for Camden to remember this is fake. And Levi's kisses only confuse her more.

Goodreads│Amazon│Barnes & Noble│Harlequin│Kobo

About the Author

Once upon a time, Kristina Knight spent her days running from car crash to fire to meetings with local police--no, she wasn't a troublemaker, she was a journalist. Her career took her all over the United States, writing about everything from a serial killer's capture to the National Finals Rodeo. Along the way, she found her very own Knight in Shining Cowboy Boots and an abiding love for romance novels. And just like the characters from her favorite books, she's living her own happily ever after.

Kristina writes sassy contemporary romance novels; her books have appeared on Kindle Best Seller Lists. She loves hearing from readers, so drop her a line!

Website│Goodreads│Facebook│Twitter│Pinterest│BookBub│Google+│Amazon

Tour Giveaway

- 1 winner will receive a signed copy of Famous in a Small Town and some fun swag - US residents only

- Ends September 20th

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