#I LOVE EVELYN. I SAY SHES TALLER THEN HIM BECAUSE I SAID SO.

[7sharkie7]

My Evelyn design an some Caleb doodles frm like a week or so agooo (he is doing the orange justice)

[monroeville22]

-“DO YOU?”-

A/N: Hello, everyone!This one is a bit angsty, and some sentences sound a little inappropriate but they’re not.I swear. Anyway, enjoy!

TW:MENTIONS OF PANIC ATTACKS/CURSING

Remus Lupin was miserable.

He had spent the last two hours watching a seventh year Ravenclaw girl flirt with Sirius.

He was indeed miserable. He was absolutely furious.

Firstly, why was this red haired girl in their common room? There were plenty other places to flirt. Secondly, wasn’t this her last year at Hogwarts? Why couldn’t she just find other things to do, like study? And lastly, why couldn’t she just let Remus have Sirius for his own?

Remus shook that thought away and stared down at his History of Magic book which was placed on his lap. He was being selfish, Sirius was his own person. Remus couldn’t just have him. Could he? It was stupid of him to even think Sirius had any liking towards him. Sirius Black was way out of his league. He was beautiful, with his long wavy black hair. His fierce grey eyes- James had insisted that they were blue but Remus knew the eyes of the boy he loved very well, thank you- with those thin eyebrows that looked like they were drawn with care and his long, curled eyelashes. And his smile, Merlin that smile. He wasn’t talking about the toothy grin he gave to the compliments he got. Or the smirk that he always wore. Remus was talking about the genuine smile Sirius had. He loved seeing those gentle, pink lips turn into a charming smile.

“Oi, Moony! I asked if you were coming to the library with me?”

Remus lifted his head only to see Sirius smiling down at him. He was wearing that bloody smirk, Remus didn’t know if he loved it or hated it. He put his parchment paper between his book and gathered his stuff. “Yeah, wait a second.” he replied. Sirius smiled and turned to the girl he was with. Remus saw Sirius mutter something in her ear as she laughed from the corner of his eye. Oh, how he wanted to tear her apart. His eyes widened at this sudden vicious thought.

“Let’s go, my dear Moony!” Sirius said as he reached for Remus’ arm. Remus glanced around the room to see if anyone saw them while blushing slightly. Sirius would occasionally call him by pet names, even flirt with him sometimes. Maybe that was the reason Remus felt what he felt towards him. He let Sirius drag him to the library by his arm. “So, is there a certain reason why you were staring daggers at Evelyn?” Sirius asked him with a weird tone. Was he teasing? Remus looked at Sirius with panic in his eyes. He opened his eyes to say something sarcastic but all he could do was choke out a laugh. “I-I wasn’t!” he freed his arm from Sirius’ grasp and started walking faster. “Remus, hold on.” Sirius quickly caught up with the other boy. “I’m not blind, Moons. Is there something wrong?” he asked, worried. Remus sighed and turned to face the black haired idiot who he had the stupidity to love. “No, Sirius. Everything’s good.” he rushed. “Now, can we please just go in?”

Sirius was not damn blind. He knew something was up. And he knew that Evelyn had caused it. Remus wouldn’t stop sighing or groaning every time the Ravenclaw giggled at something he said. He thought Remus found her annoying, although he wished that the sandy brown haired boy was jealous. He really hoped Remus was jealous. Not that he brought the girl to tease him, it was just that she was hitting on him for a year and Sirius just felt guilty. Why, he wasn’t sure.

Sirius knew he couldn’t openly flirt with Remus. He knew he couldn’t love him the way he wanted to. He knew he had to hide it, but Remus was Remus. It was hard to hide anything from the boy. He seemed to see right through him. Even though he tried his best to cover his feelings up with stupid smirks and grins, he knew Remus didn’t buy any of it. Dating other girls and flirting with them made him normal. But he didn’t want to be normal, no matter how cheesy that sounded; it was the truth.

“Remus, come on! I know you, you don’t just sigh and huff when there’s nothing going on!” Sirius yelled at him. Remus laughed and threw his books on one of the windowsills that were lining the hall. “Do you. Sirius?” Remus whispered angrily. Sirius looked taken aback by the harshness of his words. “What do you mean, of course I know you.” Sirius whispered twice as harsh. Remus shook his head and ran his hands through his bangs. They fell back right into his eyes and Sirius resisted the urge to tuck them behind Remus’ ears. It’s what he would have done if they weren’t fighting.

“Well, mister. If you know me so well why don’t you come up with an answer? Why don’t you just get it?” Remus looked at Sirius with teary eyes. He was being rude, he was aware. But he was just fed up with Sirius’ obliviousness. Sirius stared at him with a dumb expression that Remus wanted to punch off. “Moony, I,” Sirius looked at his feet. “I’m sorry.” Remus looked like he was about to burst. He was pacing back and forth in a small path. He groaned at Sirius’ words. “See?! This is your problem!” he pointed at Sirius’ chest. “You apologize all the time, not knowing why! I don’t want your empty apologies, I want you to understand!” Remus shouted at the boy. Sirius felt so small. He felt ashamed. Remus was right. He apologized for things when he didn’t really mean it.

“What should I understand? Why don’t you just talk to me!? All you do is puff and glare at the girls I speak with, you act all possessive when they’re around me, then you walk it off like it’s nothing. If I didn’t know any better I would think you’re jealous of me!” Sirius fought back. He was falling deeper and deeper. He felt tears stinging his eyes. Remus looked bloody scary, with his bloodshot eyes and his mouth in a tight pout. He threw his arms up and walked closer to Sirius. Their chests were close to touching. “See, idiot! I’m glad you know better because I am not jealous of you!” He yelled. Sirius could feel the tremors surging through Remus. He looked like he was going through a panic attack. Sirius tensed at the sight of him. “I’m not jealous of you!” “Then what the hell is your problem?!” Sirius pushed Remus with more force than he intended to.

“Them! The bloody girls!” Remus screamed. His hands were shaking as he waved them around. Remus’ outburst hit Sirius in the guts. “Those girls who can openly flirt with you. Twirl their damn hair when you say some stupid shit which is not even that funny. They look at you like you are some hero.” Remus seemed rather calmed down, he was no longer shouting but he was still shaking vigorously. He tried to move closer to Remus but he stopped himself. “They do not know you, Sirius. And still, they fall for you. They fall for your facade, your looks. And me,” Remus pointed at himself, laughing. “I’ve known you for six years. I know everything about you. I’ve studied everything about you. I know things about you that even you yourself don’t even know.” Sirius felt a shiver run down his spine. He felt the need to pinch himself.

“I loved you for who you are. I loved you before you figured out who you even were. But loving you at the same time with those girls makes me feel worthless. It makes the love I feel for you seem worthless.” Sirius slowly moved towards the other boy. As if slowing his motions would help the intimacy of the action. Remus didn’t seem to notice. “And I hate that you give that bloody smirk to everyone. I hate that you share your smile with other girls.” Sirius moved to gently touch Remus’ arm, looking at him as if he were asking for permission. Remus quickly glanced at Sirius’ hand but didn’t do anything in protest.

“Remus,” said Sirius, waiting for the boy to cut him off. Remus just let out a shaky breath and stayed quiet. “I didn’t know.” Remus laughed at his words. “I didn’t think you would,” Sirius didn’t know how to convince Remus that he felt the same. “-share my feelings, I didn’t.” Remus snapped his head to meet the black haired boy’s eyes. “You don’t mean that.” he whispered. “You feel pity” Sirius shook his head violently, “No, no. Moony I know you don’t believe me.” he stayed silent for a few seconds before Remus muttered him to keep going. “ I was scared, and I know how stupid that sounds. But I had never thought I would feel something like this towards a boy.” Remus sighed and kept looking at Sirius’ clothes. “I know.” Remus said. “I felt the need to cover it up. I thought if I became the boy every one already thought I was things would be simpler.” Sirius moved his hand to hold Remus’ slightly bigger one. Remus interlocked their fingers. “This is no excuse for all the shit I put you through, Remus. I know. But I just, wanted to tell you.” Sirius pulled slightly back, so that he would be able to look properly into Remus’ eyes. “I don’t care.” Remus said. “I don’t want any proper reason. I don’t care.” He shrugged his shoulders like a little kid.

“I just want to be with you. Hidden or open. I just want you.” Remus spoke softly. Sirius put one hand over Remus’ chest while the other gripped tight on his hand. “Well, if you’ll let me.” Sirius replied. Remus nodded his head quickly and smiled. Sirius jumped slightly to put his arms around the taller one’s neck. “You understand now.” Remus said as he hugged Sirius tightly.

“So, you still want to study or…?” Sirius asked with a teasing smile. “You know what maybe this was a bad ide- ow!” Remus shouted as Sirius pinched his sides. “Too late Lupin, this is for life.”

[belphegor1982]

86. “Don’t be scared I’m right here” prompt for sibling feels between Jonathan and Evie! Maybe when they’re kids and Jonathan is being a protective big brother?

I finally finished it! Hope you like :o)

The Chimera in the Attic

“Don’t be so loud,” whispers Jonathan, and Evelyn does her best to pin him with the most beady glare she can manage in the dark. It’s not so easy as it used to be. Jonathan has grown a lot in the past few months, and Evelyn remains somewhat on the small side for an eight-year-old girl.

He’s still skinny, though. The dressing gown Dad gave him for his birthday, saying he’d grow into it, is still too long and baggy for him.

“I’m not loud.”

“You are! I don’t even know how someone so small can be making so much noise while she walks! What are your slippers made of, solid lead?”

“Well, you’re the one who keeps talking!”

“Look, do you want my help or not?”

Evelyn glowers, but forces her voice down.

“Yes,” she mutters with a sigh – carefully, so she doesn’t blow her candle.

“Good show. Now – toes first, and then your heel. Mind the stairs, we’re almost there.”

It seemed a good idea to ask Jonathan for help – and, if she’s honest, it probably is – but she still doesn’t like it when her brother decides to be The Grown-up. It doesn’t suit him at all. But if she is to retrieve the books Mrs Pemberton, the housekeeper and household dragon, confiscated from her and locked up in the attic, then Jonathan and his baffling (and highly dubious) talent for opening doors is just the man for the job.

The fact that this ‘man’ is a thirteen and a half boy notwithstanding, of course.

And to be completely honest, creeping around the dark, silent house around midnight in his company feels much less daunting than it would on her own.

“Mum and Dad wouldn’t have taken my books away,” she mumbles while the both of them tiptoe up the stairs, careful to avoid the fifth step that always creaks.

Jonathan shoots her a look that has more than a little commiseration to it. But he doesn’t make a sarcastic comment like she half-thought he might. He also doesn’t point out that she’d need only wait till next Friday for Salwa and John Carnahan to come back from their trip. He knows few things are more important to her than her books.

“No,” he murmurs, “they wouldn’t have. But maybe you need a little more… I don’t know, subtlety?”

“What do you mean?”

“Next time, don’t leave the books lying around when you know Mrs Pemberton doesn’t approve of you reading treatises that would give any normal adult a headache, especially when you should be sleeping. You might want to keep them hidden.”

Evelyn concedes the point silently.

True to his word, Jonathan only needs a few minutes until the lock gives up. She probably shouldn’t be so impressed.

The South Wing attic is one of the few places in the house that still don’t have electricity – not even gaslight. It’s essentially a large lumber room filled with steamer trunks, some full, some empty, cabinets and bookshelves devoid of books but filled with bric-a-brac, and more generally everything that’s not too sensitive to light or dust. The windows have only had windowpanes for a few years, and that’s solely because Mum and Dad wanted to use the space to store their travel diaries, inconvenient heirlooms, and everything they couldn’t find room for downstairs.

At this hour of the night, it looks empty and huge, and dark, and utterly uninviting.

Evelyn and Jonathan remain frozen on the threshold for a few seconds. Then Evelyn takes a deep breath, hears Jonathan do the same, and they enter.

From there they split up to search, Evelyn hoping the dust won’t ruin her slippers, Jonathan swearing quietly every time he stubs his toe against something. For some reason it feels even more important to be silent here than it did downstairs, which is silly. This attic is not anywhere near sleeping quarters.

Evelyn lifts a pile of old almanacs, careful not to breathe in the dust that goes flying when she puts them down. Then an unexpected noise behind her makes her gasp.

“It’s just me,” whispers Jonathan, who somehow crept up on her. Evelyn is all the more miffed because for once it doesn’t appear he did it on purpose. “Did you find anything?”

“Just these.”

“Are you sure this is where Mrs Pemberton took your books? She could’ve hidden them in her lair with the rest of her hoard – ugly portraits, stuffed lizards, human remains –”

“Oh, shush.”

Mrs Pemberton came with the house, so to speak, and watched over their father’s childhood with a gimlet eye. She’s very fond of John Carnahan and respected Salwa al-Masri from the moment Dad brought his new wife to England, which is a lot more than can be said for the rest of his family and household staff then. But she is Proper and Traditional and rules the house with an iron hand when the master and mistress are away. Jonathan sometimes half-jokes that he doesn’t see much difference between home and school as far as caning and bleeding knuckles are concerned. Evelyn really hopes he’s exaggerating on both accounts; but the last time Mrs Pemberton caught him scaling the vines on the west façade to sneak into a room, he held himself oddly for a few hours, and that wasn’t because he’d fallen down. He also made Evelyn promise she wouldn’t say a word to their parents, so she kept mum, but she can’t help thinking it’s not right. Mum and Dad never hit Jonathan when he misbehaves.

In normal circumstances she wouldn’t pick at his language. But a dark, dusty attic in the middle of the night is the last place in which she wants to hear about human remains.

“I saw her climb the stairs with all three books and come back down without them,” she points out. “She must have left them here.”

Logic has always been her most trusted ally. Jonathan, knowing this, nods.

“All right, so they’re somewhere in this mess. Now. If I was a fire-breathing dragon who eats twelve naughty children for breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper every day, where would I hide forbidden but valuable books?”

Evelyn can’t help a silent chuckle. Then her eyes fall on a cabinet in a corner, standing in a pool of shadow.

She nudges her brother and they silently make their way towards the cabinet.

A rustling sound in the near distance makes them both freeze. The little candleholder trembles a little in her fist; with her other hand she instinctively searches for Jonathan’s.

“Don’t be scared,” she hears him whisper, “I’m right here.” But his hand is none too steady in hers as he grips back.

“I’m not scared.” Jonathan gives her a look before he bends to inspect the lock of the cabinet, so she insists, “I’m not! I was just startled.”

“Right,” he says with that small infuriating grin of his, like he hasn’t jumped as well at the sudden noise. “All right, then, let’s see…”

A minute later he manages to open the door just a sliver and peek inside.

“Well, good news, there’s your books. I can see the name of one of those dratted Bembridge fellows on the cover. Bad news: something’s blocking the door and I can’t get it open without forcing it – hang on –”

Jonathan pulls on the door, Evelyn steps closer to hear what he’s muttering, and that is when a few things seem to fall on their heads at the same time: something heavy, a cloud of dust, an angry screech, the flapping of wings brushing their skulls. Jonathan yelps, Evelyn cries out. Her candle falls to the floor, instantly snuffed out, but the light managed to give her a glimpse of teeth, feathers, and – scales?

A hand grasps hers and tugs her onwards. She runs along without hesitation, barely registering that they’re racing down the stairs and across the wing to Jonathan’s room, until they’re safe and secure behind the door, covered in dust, chests heaving, their hands on their knees.

“What the hell was that?” gasps Jonathan. Evelyn is too out of breath to answer right away. She’s too busy trying to shake the sensation of lightning coursing through her whole body, like her whole person is reduced to a small human-sized wire.

When she’s able to make sounds other than panting, she groans.

“My books! We forgot the books!”

“We were attacked by a monster and that’s the first thing you say?”

“But that was the entire reason we… We have to go back!”

“And we will, but in the morning, when we can see more than five inches in front of us. And won’t be set upon by nocturnal chimeras.”

“Well,” Evelyn declares mulishly, struggling against the remnants of the terror that made her fly down the stairs as fast as though the wings had been hers, “I’m going. I won’t be able to sleep for a while anyway, I might as well have something to do.”

“Evy.”

“You’re welcome to stay here if you’re afraid, of course.”

“Evy.”

“But you will not stop me from—”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. The next thing she knows he drops three heavy volumes into her arms, so covered in dirt one can hardly decipher the titles on the cover.

“Here are your blasted books, you lunatic! And the next time you need something retrieved from wherever it’s ended up then you’re welcome to—”

It’s not easy to embrace another person while holding books that might be a little more massive than one can safely hold with one arm. That doesn’t stop Evelyn from following her impulse and throwing herself in her brother’s arms before he can finish his sentence. Emotions race through her – retroactive fright, a remnant of righteous anger at being denied what she loves most to do, relief at the return of her favourite books – and she knows better than to fight them. Instead she burrows her nose into the front of Jonathan’s dressing gown and lets them run their course.

Jonathan sighs into her hair and wraps his arms around her. If she doesn’t grow taller quickly he’ll soon be able to put his chin on top of her head. Usually she’s tempted to be a little miffed about that. Right now, it doesn’t sound so bad.

“I don’t… I didn’t mean that.”

I know, she thinks, letting the familiarity of his voice and his wiry frame wash the rest of her nerves away. She was fully prepared to march back up those stairs and into the attic, and now she’s unspeakably grateful that she won’t have to.

Later, when they’ve dusted off their nightclothes, Evelyn hops into bed with her brother. She does it every now and then when she can’t sleep for this or that reason, more rarely since he has gone away to Eton and only comes back in the weekends. Even if he complains that her feet are cold he never turns her away. As always, their whispered conversation carries late into the night. Evelyn is drowsing already when she asks, “What do you think happened, exactly, back there?”

“I don’t know,” whispers Jonathan, eyes closed, “and I don’t care. Whatever it was, it won’t bother us now.”

Evelyn agrees and finally falls asleep, secure in the knowledge that she is safe and, perhaps more importantly, so are her books.

※ ※ ※ ※

The next morning, they wake up at an ungodly hour to retrieve Evy’s candleholder and erase all traces that suggest they recently set foot in the attic. They approach the cabinet cautiously, only to find a moth-eaten stuffed crocodile’s head on the floor covered in bird droppings and what looks like a little owl’s feathers. The ‘trophy’ – probably older than their parents – must have been left on top of the cabinet for ages, wedged against the top of the door, effectively preventing anyone from opening the door completely.

Jonathan looks down, then up, then down again, and says, “There’s our chimera. Looks like we survived a crocodile attack last night.”

Evelyn makes a face. The memory of their undignified rout stings, especially now that it’s obvious there was nothing to get so scared about. Startled, yes; scared, no.

“I wonder if we frightened that poor bird away for good,” she muses as they set everything to rights as silently as they can.

Jonathan, who wandered off looking for the point of entry, looks over his shoulder and says, “I hope so. I don’t fancy this attic becoming an aviary. There are too many interesting things here to leave them left for the birds, so to speak.” He plugs an owl-sized hole in a windowpane with a rag and adds with a grin, “The things you’ll do for books, I swear.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Evelyn counters, feeling a similar wide smile make its way on her face.

And Jonathan, who usually has a ready sarcastic retort on the tip of his tongue, only shakes his head with a snort.

Books – both their contents and their physical form – are important to Evelyn in a way they aren’t to Jonathan. Perhaps they’ll never really understand each other on this. But perhaps it doesn’t really matter, either.

After all, even if he isn’t up to standing up to a chimera in the dead of night any more than she is, her big brother still knows her well enough to know that Evelyn Carnahan will only leave a book behind in the direst of circumstances.

(There you go! Not my best prose, I’m sorry, but it’s the best I could hammer out into shape ^^’ I have a lot of feels about these two and I’m always glad for the chance to explore these feels, so thank you, dear anon 💜)

[sdvharveybby]

This is a super cliche trope but

Can you do fake dating with Harvey? :D maybe his family in Zuzu have constantly been bugging him for still being single, even more so than usual. and he’s close enough with the farmer to ask if they could just pretend for a day while they visit

I, obviously, kept this platonic between the farmer and Harvey, but man! It honestly killed me to write this. By nature, I tease people quite a bit- so to add that into this, it just made me laugh! I love the awkward Doctor man so much!

Inspiration to this was actually eating together with my family earlier! We are full of roasts and ways to tease each other, so it made this fun and easy to write.

**edit** I totally gave Harveys parents some names, by the way. His papa is William/Bill and his mama is Evelyn (which, now that I think about it. someone is named that in SDV. which is exactly what I wanted to avoid. i love myself) Sorry if the names are cringy, but I did it to make my writing easier. Sorry 😓😭

Please let me know what you think, bby! This ask was so unique, I thought about it- and I have seen this with a comic, but I haven’t seen anyone write it (most likely just haven’t see it yet lmao) but I hope I did this all justice! It was super super fun!! THANKS BBY!!

Word Count: 1796

The phone rung, loudly enough to pierce the ears of anyone in the room as the farmer sat on Harvey’s stool by the radio. They swung around in the direction of the phone to see Harvey answering it, “Hi, this is Doctor Harvey, what can I help you with?” He responded in his usual tone during work hours. It was currently 2pm and Harvey and the farmer normally spent this time together- drinking coffee and throwing around jokes till he had to close. It was nice for the farmer to get a break every day and Harvey normally wasn’t busy around this time, so it kept them both company.

They couldn’t make out the words on his call, but they listen closely anyways, “Oh! Mother, ha- yes, sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice for a second!” He admitted as the farmer could see him grip the phone tighter. His sweet smile seemed strained as he focused on the call, he looked… annoyed. “Ah, yes, business is fine around here. It gets a bit slow during the summer but picks up around fall and winter. Is there… any reason you called?” Harvey sat in his chair beside his table, hunched over as he used his elbow to keep the phone at his ear in place. His eyes searched around his room as he listened to his mother on the other line, never making eye contact with the farmer once. He dipped his head and rubbed the back of his neck before he suddenly stood up, “Ha, uhm-yeah, relationships? Y-yeah! I’m uhm… currently in one now!” He lied as he began to pace as much as the phone cord would allow. Wait, relationship? The farmer thought as they watched him slowly pace back and forth. They sipped their coffee, watching him under amused eyes as Harvey was lying to his family. Seems like his family takes that all seriously! They chuckled to themselves, letting out a small burp from their coffee. Harvey swung towards the farmer and held up a finger in a hushed tone- the farmer chuckled again. “Yes, they’re wonderful. I’m very happy,” He continued to lie through his teeth until a moment later when he stopped dead in his tracks. “Ah, no-no! You don’t have to come out!” He spoke, attempting to persuade his family their visit wasn’t necessary. When he realized there wasn’t any way of urging them to stay home, he accepted defeat and ended the call.

Silence filled the room as his stood there, staring at the ground. “Ah, you all right, Harvey? Sounds like your family is coming, yeah?” The farmer began, taking another sip of coffee. He didn’t respond and still didn’t make eye contact. He sat back in his chair by the table and gave a heavy sigh, “My family has been urging me to get into a relationship ever since I left home,” He softly chuckled to himself, it almost seemed panicked as he did so. The farmer began, slowly, “And you… just told them you’re in a relationship…” he nodded, “and… they’re coming out to visit” The farmer pieced together as they watched him lean his back against the table. He nodded again and rubbed his face with his hands. Another moment of silence ensued, “Okay-“ he started, blushing a bit. “Can you do me the biggest favor I’ll probably ever ask of you?” The farmer knew exactly where he was going with this, but they gave a muffled ‘mmhmm’ as they continued to drink their coffee.

“Can we pretend we’re dating while my family is in town?” The farmer knew what he was going to ask, but when they heard it- they almost spat out their coffee. “Us, really?” They wiped their mouth of excess coffee on to their sleeve- they watched Harvey quickly stand, nervously pacing once again. “I’m not close enough with anyone else in town, and- and, I think we can pull it off!” Harvey reassured them giving a worried smile, “Course- you can say n-“ “I’ll do it.” The farmer interrupted, “-but this totally means you owe me!” They stood, placing their empty coffee cup on Harveys radio. Harvey breathed a sigh of relief, “When are they coming out?” They asked him, “T-tomorrow” he mumbled, and the farmer jumped a bit in surprise. “Wait, really?? That gives us no time to prepare at all!” They argued and Harvey held up a hand to dismiss them. “Just be yourself. It’ll only be for the day since they only live in Zuzu city. If they stay for more than a day, then I’ll just tell them you’re busy with your farm work!” He compromised and the farmer sighed, “Fine. I’ll come by after I finish my work, and then I’ll think about how you can pay me back.” They gave him a wicked smile, but Harvey nodded, laughing it off.

The next day started as any other, but the farmer couldn’t feel but a bit worried about meeting his family. It’s going to be so awkward! What if they ask us to do like… romantic stuff together!? This is a disaster! They thought to themselves as they gave hay to their animals. They finished their work a bit later than usual, but they breathed in deeply to calm themselves down and made their way to Harveys.

When they reached his place, it was about 11am, and they walked inside to see Harvey at the front counter with his head in his heads. “No family, yet?” They spoke as they fixed their jacket and combed fingers through their hair to fix it. “No, not yet” he mumbled without looking up. They approached the counter, “Do you not get along with your family, or what? You seem so nervous.” Harvey looked up to meet the farmers eyes, “It’s not that- it’s just that they worry too much.” He explained, “You’re one to talk,” they teased, giving him a comfortable smile- hopefully to ease his stress. His eyes traced their hair and came back with, “You have a piece of hay in your hair,” He teased and sat up with a sigh. The farmer combed through their hair to find it, “And hey, I’m a doctor. It’s my job to worry, and I’m a full-grown man capable of making of my own decisions.” There was a brief pause before the farmer countered him, whispering, “Could have fooled me.” Harvey laughed. It seemed genuine for how nervous he was. Harvey was known to be a worrywart in town but seeing him nervous and stressed easily made the farmer pity him. “It’ll work out just fine. And they’ll be gone before you know it.”

A knock at the door startled them both and Harvey jumped from his chair to answer it. Standing there was an older man and woman. The man was taller than Harvey by about a few inches, and the woman standing next to him reached about chest height to the man. They both had gray hair and wore casual clothes- t-shirt and jeans, while the woman wore a green colored jacket. “Oh, my little Harvey! It’s so good to see you!” The woman, his mother, cooed to him. The farmer had to stifle their laughs before reaching out a hand to introduce themselves. “Nice firm handshake,” Harvey’s father commented to the farmer. “Name’s William, but you can call me Bill.” Harvey’s mother then chimed in, “And I’m Evelyn!” She smiled sweetly towards the farmer, and they knew where Harvey got his smile from.

Their time together went by really well- Bill was funny and didn’t let anyone catch a break from his teasing, which made Harvey nervous at times, but the farmer had no problem keeping up and teasing back. Evelyn was a sweet natured soul who actively worried about everything Harvey was doing and how he was doing it. Harvey had to explain a few times that he was very happy about where he was at in life, and that Pelican Town residents rarely got ill, and that seemed to ease her worries a bit.

“When are you guys going to get married then, huh? I don’t hear any wedding bells.” Bill joked towards Harvey. Harvey blushed a bright red, almost unable to speak. The way him and the farmer sat- it wasn’t convincing his parents at all. They sat a few inches apart from each other and barely acknowledged they even existed. Through Harveys nervous bout, the farmer scooted their chair closer and held his hand, “We’ve given it a lot of thought! But we both don’t feel like we’re ready.” The farmer remarked, swooping in to save Harvey a lot of potential trouble. Evelyn relaxed a bit, but said, “What’s the hold up? I mean, our little Harvey’s not going to get any younger!” Seeing the way Evelyn acted towards Harvey made the farmer laugh, but they stifled any chuckles to continue, “It’s mostly because I don’t have the farm set up enough to have him move in. It’s a lot of work to keep my farm stable and I want to make sure that he’ll be happy enough there to move in.” They explained, completely lying through their teeth. They tried to give a convincing smile, but with Harvey basically deflating on the spot- they had no idea what his parents were thinking of. “You two plan on having a family?” Bill tested as he watched the farmer and Harvey holding hands- albeit awkwardly. Man, what’s with these guys. Couldn’t we have just kept teasing more about Harvey as a kid? The farmer wished in their head. They opened their mouth to speak before Harvey interrupted, “Let’s just get through thinking about the wedding before starting a family!” He was still colored a deep red, unable to hide any of his blushing towards the awkward questions his family placed him in. Evelyn seemed a bit sad at all their answers but seemed satisfied enough to drop her prying.

After his parent’s interview, the evening went by really well! It wasn’t until it reached about 8pm that they decided to leave. With Harvey and the farmer now alone, they simultaneously sighed. “Mission successful?” The farmer asked, exhausted from putting on the show. Harvey feeling the same way, “I had a hard enough time trying to remember we were supposed to be a couple. You were basically one of them.” He laughed and rubbed his face with his hands. “You have no idea how hard I tried not to laugh when she brought up about how tiny you were as a baby.” He gave a loud moan as the farmer said this, “Please don’t make me remember.” Harvey pleaded, letting out a chuckle.

“Or how about the time you-“

“Don’t do this to me!”

[darriness]

Klaine Fic - You’ll Always Be The Home - Chapter 2

Author: darriness

Fic Summary: Everything is finally settled in Kurt and Blaine’s life…right?

Rating: T

Link to: Prologue - Chapter 1

Chapter Word Count: 3389

Chapter Summary: Decisions and news

Author’s Note: I’m the worst at summaries. Don’t even bother reading them. Just read the chapter lol Also, it was brought to my attention that there may have been confusion with the chapters for this fic. Just note that there is a prologue before chapter 1. So TECHNICALLY this is the third chapter but it’s chapter 2 because of the prologue. I’ll stop rambling. Thanks to my beta @darrenismydarcy and enjoy!

AO3 Link

“Do we ever have to leave our honeymoon?” Blaine asks four days later as he kneels on the bed where Kurt has been lounging with a book for the past hour.

Kurt looks up from his book, lazily, and his breath catches at Blaine’s appearance. They haven’t really worn anything more than swim trunks and tank tops since they arrived in Fiji three days ago but right now Blaine is only in low hanging shorts and his golden skin and easy smile take Kurt’s breath away.

Blaine smirks at Kurt’s expression before moving forward on his knees toward his husband, “See something you like?” He asks.

Kurt swallows, “You are unfairly attractive right now.”

Blaine chuckles as he puts his hands on either side of Kurt’s shoulders and leans in to press a slow, warm kiss to his lips. He hums when he pulls back, “Just right now?”

Kurt chuckles as he rolls his eyes, “Stop fishing for compliments.”

Blaine smirks again and shrugs before sitting down on his hip and leaning on his hand that he rests on the other side of Kurt’s hips, “You didn’t answer my first question.”

Kurt closes his book and puts it on the nightstand before putting his hands behind his head and giving Blaine his full attention, “To answer your question, yes, we eventually have to leave our honeymoon.” Blaine pouts and Kurt laughs, “We have jobs to get back to, and a Bethany to think about for starters.” Kurt reminds.

Blaine waves a hand, “Bethany’s practically an adult.” He says.

Kurt laughs, “I know sixteen-year-olds THINK they’re adults but...she’s not done needing you by a long shot.”

“Needing us.” Blaine says and Kurt shrugs, conceding the point even though he knows he’ll never have what Blaine and Bethany have and that’s okay.

“What are you going to do with yourself when Annie’s off at college?” Kurt asks, curiously.

Blaine pouts his lips thoughtfully, “Probably cry for a while.” He says and it’s Kurt’s turn to pout, sadly, up at him before Blaine shrugs, “But then, I don’t know, I figured you and I would have a little one of our own?”

He asks the question almost hesitantly. They’ve talked about kids, and both want at least one together, but it’s always been hypothetical. Both of them had been content with raising Bethany.

“You wouldn’t...want a break for a while?” Kurt asks, running a hand up the arm Blaine is bracing himself on, “You’ve been raising another human since you were fifteen. I would have more kids with you tomorrow but is that what you want? Would you rather we wait and just be us for a while?”

Blaine sighs and shifts slightly. Kurt wonders if he’s made Blaine uncomfortable and hates that he’s ruined their relaxed Fiji honeymoon vibe.

Eventually, Blaine looks up at Kurt through his lashes, “I can’t think of anything better than raising a child with you.”

Kurt beams at him and leans up to press his lips to Blaine’s. Blaine joins the kiss easily and they lazily make out on the bed with the afternoon sun shining in through the floor to ceiling glass doors of their room. They’ve had more sex over the last three days then any other three day period in their entire relationship, but there is something cementing and gratifying about this moment in a none sexual way.

“We’ll have to talk to Bethany.” Kurt whispers when they finally pull apart.

“Not it.” Blaine whispers back before moving back to press his lips against Kurt’s. They’re both laughing this time, though, so it’s more a meeting of teeth than lips but neither care.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Kurt asks when they pull away for a second time.

Blaine hums, thoughtfully, “Only if you can keep your hands to yourself while we do it. We’re going to end up arrested one of these days.”

Kurt rolls his eyes without any heat, “Please. One, you’re just as handsy. Two, it’s a resort in Fiji - we won’t be the only handsy ones. And three, you are my husband, I can be as handsy as I damn well please.”

Blaine smirks, “Yes sir.”

Kurt quirks an eyebrow, “Ooooh I like the sound of that.”

Blaine throws his head back and laughs and Kurt smiles.

“Come on,” Blaine says when he’s calm, flicking his head toward the beach outside their room, “let’s go swimming. And if we get arrested, there will be punishment.”

It’s Kurt’s turn to smirk, “Yes sir.” He repeats.

-- -- --

It’s two weeks since their honeymoon and Blaine and Kurt still giggle every time they look at each other or catch sight of their rings. There is an overabundance of giggling in the house which usually causes Bethany to roll her eyes even as she smiles at the pair and their ridiculousness. 

Tonight, Bethany is staying at a friend's house and Blaine sits, almost vibrating, on the couch as he tries to read a book and wait for Kurt to get home from the grocery store. 

They’re going to have a date night. 

A slightly silly concept considering they are married but, seeing as they live with a 16-year-old, nights by themselves are few and far between so they take advantage of them when they come along.  They’re going full out; dinner, candles, a movie, groping during said movie, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.

Kurt grunts his way through the front door and Blaine leaps up from the couch, tossing his unread book onto the cushions, “Here. Let me grab some of those.” He says, taking a few of the bags from Kurt’s hand, “Did you bring them all up on the first go?”

“Of course I did. Gives me a workout.” Kurt snarks.

Blaine laughs as they make their way into the kitchen, “Some might say going down and back up the stairs a second time is equally a workout.”

Kurt levels him with a look that would be bitchy if they weren’t so ridiculously in love that anger isn’t a thing they do nowadays (they’re both sure fighting will return...they’re just enjoying the lack thereof), “Yeah, well, considering what our night holds I don’t think I needed to workout at ALL before hand.”

Blaine smirks, “Touché.” He says as there is a knock at the door.

They both turn in its direction with identical curious expressions. They aren’t expecting anyone. That had kind of been the whole point of the evening.

“Maybe I dropped something and a neighbour is dropping it by?” Kurt wonders, almost to himself, as he riffles through the bags to check.

Blaine shrugs and figures there is only one way to find out. He walks over to the door, laughing when Kurt calls out ‘You better not offer sexual favours for the return of produce!’

He’s still laughing when he pulls the door open but his laugh is cut off abruptly when his eyes land on the figure on the other side. He and the person on the other side of the door stare at each other, neither speaking, for what feels like hours.

They are silent and starring long enough for Kurt to come out of the kitchen anyway, “What did I drop?” He asks but goes quiet when he comes to stand next to Blaine. Whether it’s the general vibe of the moment or the fact that the person on the other side of the door isn’t someone Kurt has ever seen before, Blaine’s not sure. But right now, Blaine isn’t sure of anything.

“Dad.” He chokes out and his throat feels raw and scratchy. The name coming out like sandpaper against his vocal chords. It’s not a word he’s used in many years, and a word he never thought he’d use again to the man in front of him.

Marcus Anderson shifts almost awkwardly. Everything about him in this moment seems awkward in Blaine’s opinion, and it’s so different to the mental memory Blaine has of his father. Marcus Anderson is a commanding presence, usually. He’s not an overly tall man (a little under 5’11”) but his general presence seems to make even taller men shrink in comparison.

Now, he stands in a three piece suit (which seems wholly out of place in the basic but neat hallway outside Kurt and Blaine’s apartment), shifting from one foot to the other and adjusting his lapel and cuffs almost reflexively. Blaine can’t help but remember his own actions on the day of his wedding and he swallows hard, trying to rid himself of the mental connection. He wants to be nothing like his father.

“Are you going to let me in?” Marcus asks finally and it’s then that Blaine realizes he and Kurt have just been staring.

Blaine turns to Kurt, whose face has morphed from the happy relaxed expression from the kitchen into a scowl with blazing eyes, and clears his throat, “Um, yeah, sure. Come in.” He says, backing up and opening the door further.

Marcus steps between the pair and clears his throat as he passes Kurt. Kurt tracks the older man as he makes his way into the living room and stands just in front of the coffee table.

“Did I catch you in the middle of something?” Marcus asks.

“What do you want, Dad?” Blaine asks instead of answering. He silently curses himself for not sounding stronger. He had wanted that to come out angrily but instead it comes out almost resigned.

Marcus clears his throat and nods down at the carpet, “Is your... sister here?”

“No.” Blaine answers, simply.

Marcus nods again, his eyes moving around the room without really landing on anything, “I have news. For her.”

Blaine’s eyes narrow. What could that possible mean? Neither Blaine or Bethany have had contact with their parents in seven years, what possible news could their father have for Bethany, and not him, that he felt he couldn’t impart over the phone or email or, Blaine figures, not at all.

“Evelyn is dead.” Marcus says simply, finally meeting Blaine’s eyes.

Blaine instantly feels like he’s been punched in the chest. He stares back at his dad but his eyes aren’t really seeing. He’s finding it hard to breathe and hard to swallow. Out of his peripheral vision, he becomes aware of Kurt looking back and forth between Blaine and his father.

“Who’s Evelyn?” Kurt asks, anger seemingly forgotten for the moment as curiosity takes its place.

Marcus breaks eye contact with Blaine only to sneer in Kurt’s direction and it’s that action that shakes Blaine awake, “Get out.” Blaine whispers over the lump in his throat.

Marcus’ eyes snap back to Blaine, widen, and then narrow, “That is a very rude way to treat a guest, Blaine. I thought I had taught you better.”

“You taught me nothing.” Blaine spits, “Now, get out.”

Marcus’ narrow eyes regard Blaine for a moment longer before clearing his throat once more, straightening his suit jacket once more and nodding, “Bethany is welcome at the funeral.” is the last thing he says before marching out of the apartment. Blaine doesn’t miss that he waited long enough to make it seem like it was HIS idea and not Blaine’s.

The door closes audibly behind his father and it’s the only indication Blaine gets that he actually leaves because he’s still staring at the spot where he was just standing. When he hears the click (his father is too prim and proper for something as ‘low class’ as a slam) he blinks for the first time in what feels like forever. Why can’t he remember the last time he blinked? Why are his eyes so dry?

He becomes aware of Kurt next to him when the other man clears his throat, “Ummm, what’s going on? Who is Evelyn? What the fuck just happened?”

Blaine runs a shaky hand down his face and pulls his bottom lip out slightly as he removes it, staring off into the middle distance, “Evelyn is our mother.” 

-- -- --

Kurt’s not entirely sure how to act.

He’s been trying to take his cue from Blaine but trying to figure out what Blaine needs from him without outright asking (he’d tried and gotten a strange ‘What kind of question is that?’ non-answer in return). 

Blaine seemed last night to want to forget his father had even visited. He had clapped his hands together after a moment of silence and declared that the groceries weren’t going to put themselves away. He’s been speaking mostly in cliches ever since.

They’d gone to bed right after dinner and while Kurt had understood the night they had planned wasn’t really an option anymore, he had mourned it a little. He’d mourned it a little more when he’d spooned up behind Blaine in bed and gotten a ‘I’ve got a headache’ cliche in return. He wasn’t sure if that just meant no sex (which isn’t what he had been aiming for anyway) or no cuddling but when Blaine had shrugged his shoulder slightly, Kurt had taken the hint and rolled away. He’d fell into a fitful sleep only after he knew Blaine had done the same a few hours later.

Now, the morning sun is shining through their small kitchen window and the pair is sitting at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee in front of them. They haven’t really spoken since waking up almost a half hour ago, but Bethany should be getting dropped back home any time now and Kurt’s still not sure how they are going to tell her.

He coughs and Blaine looks over at him with a curious expression, “Have you...thought about how you’re going to tell Bethany?”

Blaine pouts thoughtfully before shrugging, “Best just to rip the bandaid off, I guess.”

Kurt’s nerves bristle at the cliche. He wants to shake Blaine and ask him what the hell the cliches are for and why he’s acting so strange but he also doesn’t want to make Blaine mad at him - a fight isn’t what he wants or thinks Blaine needs right now.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out as Blaine continues to look at him curiously, passively. Kurt licks his lips and tries again, “Did you...want to tell her by yourself? I can...make myself scarce.” He gestures out of the kitchen as if his meaning isn’t clear.

Something flashes in Blaine’s eyes for the first time since his father’s visit the night before. He reaches across the table and grabs Kurt’s wrist, locking eyes with him and his eyes look pained, “Please stay.” He says.

Kurt nods repeatedly, “I will. I will.” He reassures.

Blaine mirrors his nods before pulling his hand back. He nods continuously, almost to himself, before his eyes settle back into the passive stare they held before.

The sound of a key in the front door grabs their attention and they both turn in its direction to hear the door open and Bethany enter, “Hey guys!” She calls with an obvious smile in her voice, “I don’t care how late you stayed up last night - I want waffles! Let’s go get breakfast!”

They don’t answer her, and a few seconds later she all but bounces into the kitchen and smiles wider when she sees them at the table. She’s wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She’s slightly out of breath, almost like she ran up the stairs instead of taking the elevator, but her smile is so bright and her vibe is relaxed...until she catches the vibe of the kitchen.

She stops with a hand on the door jam and looks back and forth between Kurt and Blaine with a furrowed brow, “What’s going on?” She asks.

Kurt looks at Blaine, who is staring at his coffee. There is one thing Kurt knows for sure in this moment: no matter what he’d do to help Blaine, and Bethany, through this, telling Bethany himself is not something he’s going to do. This news shouldn’t come from him.

He coughs and it seems to shake Blaine out of his thoughts. The other man looks up and gives Bethany a pained smile that fools no one, “Have a seat, Annie.” He whispers.

Bethany follows the instruction cautiously, lowering herself into the seat she usually occupies at the table and continuing to look back and forth between them. She laughs awkwardly after another beat of silence, “What? Did someone die?” She asks.

Kurt can tell she means it as a joke but when he looks over at Blaine, who winces slightly, in the ensuing silence Bethany puts her hands flat on the table, “Burt?” She asks, her voice taking on a panicked note.

Kurt does feel like that’s a question for him to answer. He reaches across the table, quickly, and lays a hand on Bethany’s arm, “Burt is fine.” He says and for good measure he adds, “Carole and Finn are fine, too.” He sort of loves that his family is Blaine and Bethany’s family, too, and even though his heart is hurting and confused, it also swells at her concern.

She nods and looks back and forth between Kurt and her silent brother, “Then who? Or what? You haven’t said no one died. Did someone die?”

“Mom did.” Blaine whispers suddenly and the room goes silent again.

Kurt’s still got his hand on Bethany’s and he squeezes it slightly as he waits for her to react. She’s looking at Blaine with wide eyes. Kurt’s not sure how he thought she would react, hell he STILL isn’t sure how Blaine is reacting, but he knows he wants to be there to help with whatever it is.

Bethany blinks a few times, “How?” She finally stutters out.

Blaine adopts a thoughtful expression, “I...don’t actually know how she died.” He whispers.

Bethany shakes her head, “No.” She says, “I mean, how do you know?”

Blaine looks at Kurt, briefly, before turning back to Bethany. Kurt wonders in that moment if Blaine is going to lie about how he came to know this information, “Dad, uh, came here last night.”

Bethany swallows thickly and nods but doesn’t say anything. She turns her eyes to look at the table in front of her. They’re slightly wide but otherwise dry. Kurt’s not sure why he was expecting tears.

“Bethany?” Kurt says after another moment of silence. So much silence. She looks up at him with a surprised expression, like she forgot he was there, “Are you...okay? Do you...need anything?” He tries asking her what he asked Blaine the night before, hoping she’ll be more receptive.

She blinks and then coughs slightly before looking at Blaine, “Is there a funeral?”

“On Sunday morning.” Blaine reports, “Dad said you were welcome to go if you want.”

Bethany’s brows furrow, “If I…” She stops and shakes her head before starting again, “I think we should go.” She says with a decisive nod.

Kurt and Blaine turn to each other for a moment before turning back to Bethany, “Ummm, Bethany…” Kurt starts.

“Dad said YOU were invited. Not me.” Blaine clarifies.

Bethany’s brows furrow even further and she shakes her head, “That’s bullshit!” She explodes. Neither Kurt or Blaine reprimand her for her language, “Now I want all three of us to go even more.” She smirks, “It’ll be the perfect send off - piss her off one more time.”

Kurt’s eyes widen in surprise at her declaration before he turns to look at Blaine, gauging his reaction. To his surprise, Blaine actually laughs slightly, shaking his head and bringing a hand up to his mouth. 

“I should have known that would be your reaction.” Blaine says, almost to himself.

Bethany amazes Kurt (and Blaine) on an almost daily basis, she truly is an amazing young woman, but her reaction brings Kurt back to that night seven years ago when he first learned about the night Blaine and Bethany’s parents abandoned their two children. Bethany, seven at the time, had stood up to their father on her big brother’s behalf, going so far as to punch their father in the stomach to keep him away from Blaine.

Bethany winks with a smile, “I’ve always got your back, big brother.”

[stardew-farmer-rose]

ya want some uhhhhhh Morris headcanons?

I can do that!

- Morris is short. I don’t care what the game says, he’s 5′2 at most the same height as me and he’s very bitter about it.

- Morris is actually very good at mimicking accents. His native accent isn’t British, it’s something like German, but for a “professional” vibe he changed the way he talks.

- He’s bilingual, learning both English and the Stardew version of German growing up.

- If he were to talk with his natural voice instead his fake one, his voice would actually be about half an octave deeper.

- He’s a good singer, as music was a huge part of his family. He can also play a few instruments.

- That said, he hasn’t had the drive to sing or play anything in years.

- Morris’ eyesight is very bad. Like, blind as a bat.

- Morris is nearsighted.

- Morris has a teddy bear named Mr. Bear Bear and he will not hesitate to kick you in the shins if you laugh at him for still having Mr. Bear Bear.

Now, to some headcanons that are more just... my new OC’s relationship with him:

- Martin (new OC, new farmer) is Morris’ older half-brother.

- Martin and Morris actually went to the valley as children during summers to visit their grandparents.

- Evelyn and George were like second grandparents to them.

- The reason that Martin and Morris are bilingual is because of their grandpa.

- There’s an attic at the farmhouse that has pull down stairs. Up the stairs is the room Martin and Morris shared.

- Morris hates that his older brother is a foot taller (6 foot 2)

- Martin still calls Morris ‘Baby brother’.

- Morris is 26. Martin is 30.

- Morris wouldn’t have joined Joja if Martin didn’t. However they were separated, and for brothers who had often felt like it was them against the world, it was devastating.

- Morris was led to believe Martin had died when, in fact, Martin left and took over the old farm.

- Post- CC repair, during the cutscene, Martin gets between Pierre and Morris, takes a good look at Morris, and hugs him, immediately speaking the German equivalent.

- That’s the first time anyone else in the valley saw Morris cry.

- Martin makes Morris live with him, so Morris is back in the attic. If he makes snarky comments while up there Martin closes the hatch for a few moments. It’s all in jest.

- Once, after exploring Skull Cavern, Martin took a few days to wake up after getting knocked out by serpents (those flying thingies).      - While he was knocked out, Morris was very different. He walked like a puppet with cut strings, all the fight from him gone.      - Morris actually had to be forced to eat by several members of Pelican Town because he wasn’t eating. If he wasn’t at the farm he was by his brother’s side, reading out loud to him until his voice was hoarse.          - He refused even his favorite foods that people knew of. It wasn’t until Evelyn brought him a warm home-cooked meal she knew he loved and said she was worried about him that he caved. Evelyn, being an honorary grandma to him, was able to hit the reaction to make him eat.                - She also hugged him and he cried.

Could probably think of more but this is as good an ending point as any.

[julessworldd]

Little Rose

Chapter 4

warnings: cussing, physical fighting(mention of it), its guns so alochol, drugs, sex, fighting. 

A/N: To the mutals, who helped with being groupies. I do degrade you in this, drag your character through the mud. I didn’t make it to make fun of you or anything striclty for the plot. I love you wondeful babies! @reigns420​ as Michelle @marteolus24​ as Evelyn, @slashscowboyboots​ as Karen(I forgot to ask my bad) Hope you guys enjoy! Sorry for the late upate <3

Groupies never bother me too bad, unless I needed one of the boys and they were balls deep in a groupie, who had been with Van Halen to Motley Crue. They were a part of the rock n’ roll scene along with booze, drugs, traveling the world.  I never saw the hype in them, to me they were just cheap easy girls, who had issues that needed male validation to cope with life’s fucked up ways.  The boys’ groupies have never liked me or wanted to believe that I was Axl’s sister and the band’s assistant. I’ve had one call me a whore for kissing Axl’s cheek before a show one night. Greffen wasn’t too happy to hear, Guns N’ Roses’ assistant sent a girl to the E.R with a concussion, two broken ribs, a busted nose and chin. 

“Hey Princess”, Duff pulled into his chest from behind. 

“Hi Handsome, how was sound check?”, I turned around and had my arms around his neck. “Good, I missed you though”, Duff ran his hand over my rib cage. “I missed you too, Dork”, I kissed his chest, feeling his warmth and sweat. “Come on”, He grabbed my hand. Duff was dragging me like a child to his dressing room. “Duff, slow down”, I giggled. Duff suddenly stopped in his tracks.  “Duff, what’s wrong?”, I asked.  “Oh hey, Duff”, I heard a female voice. “Uh hi”, Duff swallowed. I looked passed him and sure enough it was a groupie.  “Wanna go into a storage closet and have some fun?”, She walked up to Duff and ran her hand down his chest. My blood was boiling and I saw red.  “Uh what is she doing here?”, Michelle snarled her nose.  “Yeah, Duff what am I doing here with you?”, I asked. Duff stayed silent and still. Michelle smirked and pulled Duff by his hair, “I think I hear Izzy hollering for me, see ya around Duff”, I turned around and walked down the hall.  Normally, I would have pounced a groupie for being that rude to me, but Duff hasn’t come out and said he’s off the market. “Hey Janie, I thought you were with Duff?”, Axl asked.  “Oh yeah, he was tired and fell asleep”, I lied. Axl nodded, “I’m gonna call Erin, anything you want me to tell or ask her?”  “No, just tell her I love her and peanut”, I smiled. Axl walked down the hall to his room. “What now?”, Izzy asked, leaning on a wall, lighting a cigarette. “Nothing”, I rolled my eyes.

“There’s something, your eyes are darker”, Izzy said. “Just a groupie is all. Why the hell can’t they figure out when guys are taken? Mhm? Hell that probably doesn't occur to them”, I said.  “Who was it?”, Izzy asked. “Michelle, I think. Her and Duff definitely had something more than wham bam, thank you ma'am. He didn’t do anything to get her to quit, let her rub up on him and his chest. While I was standing right behind, he didn’t tell her to quit because he has a girlfriend.”, I said sinking to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest. “I’m sorry kid. Duff probably froze, like a deer in headlights”, Izzy said, sitting next to me. “He didn’t say or do anything when I told him I thought I heard you hollering for me. Wonder what he’s doing with that-”, I clenched my fist, anger boiling within me more. “Go find him, kid. Kick his ass but not too bad we got a show”, Izzy moved hair away from my face. “I’m like Axl, I have blind anger. I'll kill him if I don’t get pulled off of him. Remember that girl I sent to the hospital last year. It took Axl, Duff, a security guard to get me off of her. I tried fighting the security dude too.”, I breathed out. Izzy knew how Axl and I are wired, I can actually bite back unlike Axl who just barks half of the time. “True, just go talk to him, set ground rules. I love Duff, but you’re the little sister I never wanted but will kill for you”, Izzy held my hand, smiling at me. “Thanks Izzy, love you”, I kissed his cheek, before getting up again.

I bounced down the hall, like Popcorn does. “Hey Janie, guess what?”, Axl grabbed my hand, making me stop. “Yeah Ax?”, I turned to him, he had a smile the size of Texas.  “I’m having a daughter”, He almost had tears in his eyes. A Niece, a princess like I knew at the airport. “That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you two. We were right”, I laughed, trying to not to cry. “I know, can’t believe I’m gonna have a daughter. What if she doesn't like me?”, Axl had pulled me into a hug. “You’re gonna be an amazing dad, Axl. I promise you that, you’re not gonna be like him. You’ve pretty much raised and protected me for years and I’ve turned out good. Oh I love you too”, I squeezed him tightly. “Thanks kid, love you too”, Axl smiled. 

I knocked on Duff’s door, he opened it. He had tears streaming down his face, his face was blotchy and pink. “Hey, what’s the matter?”, I asked. “I’m sorry, Janie”, He said. “For what?”, I asked softly. “For not telling Michelle that I’m with you. You probably thought I cheated, I didn’t. I love you and never want to lose you. I told her and that I wanted her to let the others know what Duff McKagan is happily with Axl’s little sister”, Duff pulled into his bare chest. I saw lipstick marks on his pecs, collarbone.  “Duff, it’s okay. I’m sorry leaving you, I was just taking myself away before I pounced on her. I love you. Did she try kissing you?”, I rubbed his chest where salmon color lipstick stained.  “Yeah, I pushed her away. Probably too hard for a girl, but it just happened that way”, Duff said. “I believe you, Duffy. She would have a busted face from me so your pushing was okay. I think she got the point after you freaked out on here”, I laughed. Truthfully, I’m not sure what Michelle would have got from me. Duff wasn’t  gonna be wrapped in a red ribbon with a bow on his head, at her doorstep that’s for sure.  “Oh I gotta tell you something”, I smiled up at him. “What’s that, Princess?”, Duff asked. “Axl is a father to a baby girl, we’re right”, I giggled. “Holy shit, that’s amazing”, Duff kissed my forehead. “I know! I’ve already bought a sleeper when we were in Manchester. It has a pink elephant with a purple bow”, I gushed. Duff was just staring at me with adoration and a smile on his face. “I just hope she doesn't have her dad’s red hair”, Duff smirked.  “I have red hair, what’s wrong with red?”, I whined, my heart felt like it was stabbed. “Nothing, just aggravating Axl is all. I love your red hair, love running my fingers through, I like it when I wake up and it’s in my face.”, Duff grinned, kissing me. “Fuck you, bottle blonde”, I stabbed back. “Mines dirty blonde naturally, baby”, Duff smirked. 

We finally finished the European leg and were back in the U.S, the American leg was always easy and fun.  “Baby? Wake up”, I heard Duff whisper into my ear. “Mhm”, I groaned. “Oh I woke you, my bad. Go back to bed”, Duff said. “No what do you want?”, I asked, yawning. He didn’t say anything, I felt his tent on my thigh. “Really Duff it’s 4am?”, I groaned. “I’m sorry, he has a mind of his own. Not my fault you’re so damn gorgeous”, He whined. “If I give you head, will you leave me alone so I can sleep?”, I asked, rolling over to face him. Duff nodded, but he raised his hand a little. “What is it, Duffy?”, I sighed. “Actually, I wanted to give you head?”, He blushed a little. “Oh”, I laughed. “Same thing, will you let me sleep?”, I asked. He nodded his head furiously,  “Better make worth your while, bub. Waking me up, when I was sleeping so-”, I said, but he attacked my core. “Mhm fuck Duff”, I whined. “You said to make it worth my while”, Duff said as he entered two fingers in me. I pushed his head back, “Don’t talk”, he continued eating me out. Soon enough, Duff triggered my high and I whined and pulled his hair. Duff came up and rubbed his head, “I’m not a girl who you’re curb stomping, damn.”  “I’m sorry Duff, I’ll make it up to you”, I kissed him. “Really?”, Duff smirked. “You gotta let me sleep for a good while, okay?”, I said fluffing my pillow more. “Fine”, he whined. “Go to sleep, Duff. It’s almost five am”, I said. “But, I still have a problem”, Duff pointed to his crotch.  “Alright fine you broke me. If any injuries occur don’t sue me”, I sighed, crawling to him.  “Sue you? Baby, you don’t get paid enough”, Duff smirked. “You’re burying yourself deeper, boy”, I gave him a go to hell look. After giving Duff a sloppy/sleepy head he finally let me sleep. 

“If you touch me besides a cuddling position. Think of me as  the Berlin Wall, you’ll know what barbed wire feels like between your legs”, I looked at him.  He nodded and he was out like a light. 

Izzy was known for being quiet and a part of the shadows,which was cool the majority of the time. Only if we weren’t on tour and Duff and him had an interview and he needed to be ready in five minutes. “Hey Slash, have you seen Izzy?”, I asked the curly guitarist, who was strumming his guitar. “Uhh, I think he went off with a groupie. She was blonde, sorta small, kinda like you”, Slash grinned. “He doesn't have time to rail a chick right now. Fuck, you guys really stress me the fuck out at times.”, I pinched my nose. “Sorry, Janie. I think he took her to his room”, Slash gave a tiny smile. “Thank you, Slash. See ya around”, I gave him a hug. “See ya kid, be safe”, Slash said. “I’m older than you,'' I said, opening his door. “And I’m taller”, Slash laughed. “I hope your string pops”, I smirked. Duff was standing outside our room, “Hey Gorgeous” “Not now! Are you ready? If you’re not, I’m gonna kill you with your bass”, I said. “Yeah, waiting on you and Iz”, Duff said. “Apparently, he’s balls deep into a blonde chick. Like I know exactly who he’s fucking Slash”, I rolled my eyes. Duff was gonna say something when we heard a huge pornographic female moan along with Izzy’s name. “He’s finished now”, Duff smirked.  We leaned against the wall next to his door, “See ya around Iz”, the door opened and revealed the groupie or random chick. She blushed seeing Duff. I gotta keep him a shorter leash. 

“Jeffery Dean! Get your ass ready now, before I cut your head off”, I yelled standing outside his door.  “I’m dressed, Janet! Anything else you wanna bitch at me for?”, Izzy yelled. “No”, I said sad and my lip started quivering. Izzy and Axl are the two people I hate to be yelled at from, Izzy could be brutal especially if he was coming down from smack. 

I stayed in the green room as the boys were being interviewed by Kurt Loader.  Izzy hasn’t yelled at me like that since my ex, Ashton, cheated on me twice. I know Izzy wasn’t exactly yelling towards me, but he was being loud and it reminded me of being back in Lafayette. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“God, Janie he done it twice for fuck sakes. When are you gonna see he’s a piece of shit and you deserve better!”, Izzy yelled. 

“Izzy, leave her the fuck alone. She’s upset”, Pamela rubbed my back. 

“She’s fine, Pam. Leave her alone, she needs to be bitched at. Axl’s out fucking whoever, so it’s my job to-”, Izzy stopped in mid sentence as I smacked his face. The room was silent, Pamela’s mouth hung open, Izzy held his jaw and cheek.  “Fuck you, Jeff!”, I slammed the door and ran down the stairs to my car.  “Janie?”, I looked up to see Duff standing with a case of Budwiser.  “You okay? Did you and Axl fight again?”, he asked calmly.  “No, Izzy and I did. Ashton cheated on me again and Izzy lost his shit over it. Pamela told him to lay off, but he didn’t. He made me so fucking mad that I uh smacked him across his face. I just ran down here. Are you here to hang out with Izzy?”I said while trying to hold my tears. 

“I was, but screw him. Wanna drive around for a while and finish the case?” Duff asked in a soft voice. Duff and I were kinda close but Axl told us no funny shit. “Sure. Your car or mine?”, I asked. “Come on”, Duff held his hand out for me. I was hesitant to take it. What  if Izzy or Pamela were looking down. “Come on, I won’t bite”, Duff grinned. I took his hand and he led the way to his car.  We drank the whole case and made out in the backseat.  “Ashton was an ass to you, I hated seeing the way he treated you”, Duff admitted. “Why? He was just a dude, who I was too blind to see he’s shit. Izzy is right”, I sighed. “I mean yeah Izzy had a point. I care because I hate seeing girls being treated like shit. I would kill  a guy from treating my sisters like he did you. You’re an amazing woman, Janie. You’re sweet, protective, loving, got the prettiest smile ever. Any guy would be lucky to have and would be a fool to lose you.”, Duff said. “Thanks Duff. You’re not so bad yourself. Too bad Ax told us no funny shit”, I said. “You always listen to your brother? You’re 22, Janie”, Duff asked. I climbed into his lap and kissed him. 

That was the first time we fucked and led to where we are now. Ironically, I pissed Izzy off and Duff is being his sweetheart self, mending the pieces back between us.  The door opened, I looked over. It was Izzy. “Here to yell at me more cause you didn’t get enough smack this morning?”, I sassed. “Janie, I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep last night, Karen wouldn’t get off of me”, Izzy defended himself. “I don’t care. Where’s Duff?”, I asked. I wasn’t ready to accept his apology and hug him again. “Outside the door”, Izzy mumbled. I passed him and went to find Duff. Duff was getting ready to lit a cigarette, a stick was perched between his teeth as he rummaged to find a lighter. I brought my lighter to him. “Thanks, gorgeous”, Duff smiled as he blew out smoke. I forced myself into his arms and laid my head on his chest. “What’s wrong, baby?”, Duff wrapped an arm around my back.  “I just need to be held for a bit”, I mumbled. “I can do that, Janie”, Duff whispered, bringing me closer to him. 

It was getting close to showtime, each boy was in their dressing room doing whatever pre show ritual, finishing a quick nap. “What happened between you and Iz?”, Axl asked, combing his hair. “Just him coming down, you know how he is if you tell him what to do. Plus he was with a groupie.”, I said. “Who was it?”, Axl asked. “What the fuck does it matter? You’re married and have a kid on the way”, I scoffed.  “You’re right. I’m sorry he yelled at you. I can kick his ass for you”, Axl pulled me into a hug. “I love you, but Izzy would put up a good fight. He’s scrappy”, I giggled. “Hey there’s that laugh”, Axl grinned, ruffling my hair. “Have a good show, Ax. I’m gonna go find Duff. Love you”, I said, kissing his cheek. “Thanks, kid. Love you too”, Axl rubbed my shoulder. Duff’s door was cracked, weird. Maybe he got hot or a roadie forgot to shut it back. I opened the door, a girl was in his room but no sign of him. “Uh who are you?”She asked. “His girlfriend, who the hell are you and why are you in here?”, I asked, feeling my blood pressure rising.  “Evelyn, I always come see him when he’s in town.”, Evelyn flipped her black hair back.  “Listen here you green-eyed sex kitten, Duff isn’t single anymore. So you get your horny ass up and tell all the other whores that Duff McKagan isn’t available for you to have fun. I’m sure you can find one of the guys to fuck in a storage closet”, I said. “I’m not leaving until I hear Duff say he’s with you”, Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Not a chance, sweetness. You’re leaving now without a scratch or you’re leaving in an ambulance. Your choice, Evie”, I smirked. “I’m not leaving until I hear Duf-”, She was cut off. “Evelyn, I would get up and leave if I was you and had some sense”, Duff said. “You’re not seriously with this rude bitch? Duff what about what we had?”, She whined. “I am, I appreciate you if I would stop being rude to my girl, I asked you to leave”, Duff said, standing behind me. Evelyn huffed and walked out. “I’m sorry that they don’t listen and are rude to you. I just forgot to tell them”, Duff said, bringing my hand to his chest. “That’s not gonna work if you don’t tell the press you’re not single anymore”, I pouted. “I did today, Kurt asked if Izzy and I were single or not? It was a fan question”, Duff said. “Really?”, I blushed. “Sure did. Said how much I love you and how you make me feel safe, like I’m home”, Duff said.

I smiled, “That’s how I feel about you. You’ve always made me feel safe” 

“I’m glad I have, you’re so damn pretty”, Duff smiled. “5 minutes”, a roadie said. “Good luck”, I kissed his cheek. “Thanks. You gonna watch?”, Duff asked. “Of course, silly”, I said as we left his room. Steven was drumming his sticks on the wall and Slash’s top hat. Izzy stood staring at the floor. “Iz?”, I asked.  He looked up at me, I pulled him to my arms, “Can’t stay mad at you, no matter how much I try to. I’m sorry screaming at you this morning”, I whispered. “It's okay kid, you’re just doing your job. We kinda give you a hard time, sorry about overreacting to you”, Izzy rubbed my back. “Good luck”, I kissed his cheek. “Thanks”, Izzy smiled. “Hey you two made up”, Axl said. “We did”, I smiled. They had to go on. 

I’m glad we can fuss at each other and at the end of day we got each other's back. Crazy, dysfunctional family, but it was the closest thing to a family I had.

[the-jade-cross]

Knight of the Forest - Chapter IV

“Absolutely not!” Lillia objected. “I will not be wearing a cinch or a corset of any kind!”

“But my lady,” the poor maid tried pleading with the 16-year-old girl who had not work a cinch or corset in her life. “King Joffrey has announced his new betrothal and his marriage coming up in a few months and people from all over Westeros will be attending the wedding. You know your parents would want you to look your best.”

Lillia’s shoulders slumped in sadness and the cherry color of her cheeks faded. “Father has been dead for almost five years Mary…and Mother… let’s just say she never held love for me… and I doubt she held love for Robin. She just fawned over him because he was a son… let’s just say she was disappointed that her son was girly, and her daughter was like a boy.”

Mary nodded sadly, knowing full well that it had only been a few weeks since Lillia had received word of her mother’s act of suicide and while it had inflicted pain and misery in the young girl, the pain was not as much as some would deem since the only motherly love Lillia ever felt in her life was from Mayaka Tyrell.

“My lady… it will be a good 5 months before the wedding. The houses of Marbrand, Rowan, Stokeworth, Martell, Redwyne and the Prince of the Red Flower Vale will be attending the wedding. If you do not wish to wear anything appropriate for the time being, please consider it for the wedding.” Mary pleaded. “Not for me but for yourself. If Cersei Lannister does not like what you are wearing, your stay here could be painful.”

“The only reason I haven’t been assaulted, attacked, thrown out or poisoned is because Tommen is my friend and Ser Jaime has taken on responsibilities of my guardian now that my parents are dead,” Lillia pointed out as she finally selected a simple cream dress with a silver ribbon around the waist with long sleeves and a white underdress to hide her lower arms and her ankles. “Did you hear anything about who Joffrey will be wed to?”

Mary shook her head, “I thought he was to be married to Lady Sansa Stark.”

Lillia shrugged, “That was how it was for a while, but Sansa wouldn’t be sitting in the garden grinning from ear to ear if that was the truth. I have a feeling Joffrey’s lustful, evil eye has landed upon another poor soul and he has discarded Sansa. Personally, I am glad because he would have destroyed what little life is left in Sansa… but now I feel bad for whoever will be occupying the other side of his bed.”

Mary giggled slightly as she helped Lillia slip into her dress and then proceeded to gather a few strands of Lillia’s long golden curls and pull them back to the back of her head. Lillia, despite the fact that she was still the type to climb trees and joust with Ser Jaime and Tommen, had decided to not cut her hair and now the long golden curls fell to her round backside and not only drew the attention of many of the men in the castle but also the annoyance of Cersei Lannister who already hated the fact that Sansa was a lovely girl in her own home and now with a second lovely girl (not to mention that previously Evelyn Stark walked the halls of Kings Landing).

“Well,” Lillia chirped, taking up the valerian necklace that Jaime had procured for her, she placed it around her neck so that it rested against her slightly tanned, freckled skin and decided to lose any other jewelry, “I am going on a walk and hopefully Sansa will be able to tell me who the lucky bastard is.”

When Lillia finally located Sansa, who had departed from the gardens and had climbed to stand upon the battlements, the girl was looking down upon the cavalry that was arriving but sadly, due to Sansa’s slightly taller height and Lillia’s lack thereof, Lillia was unable to tell whose calvary it was.

“So… I heard about Joffrey’s marriage,” Lillia said as she tried to stand on her tiptoes to see over the battlements but failed miserably. “But by the smile on your face and the color returning to your cheeks, I am guessing it is not to you.”

Sansa turned and beamed at the girl. She had not gotten to know Lillia incredibly well like Evelyn had when they visited Highgarden but in the past months that the two have been in Kings Landing, the two had found each other’s silent company very enjoyable.

“Renly Baratheon has died, and his wife is left a widow. They aided Joffrey in the War of Blackwater and as thanks for their involvement, Joffrey agreed to marry her,” Sansa replied, her shoulders relaxing in relief.

“And who are the poor souls?” Lillia inquired, grabbing at the battlement railing in the hopes of heaving herself high enough to make out a flag.

Sansa chuckled at the petite girl’s struggles. “Margaery Tyrell.”

Lillia had just succeeded in lifting herself almost all the way onto the top of the battlement when she dropped down, almost twisting her ankle but luckily saved herself before staring at Sansa with a gaping mouth, “Say that again?”

“Margaery Tyrell,” Sansa replied, confused. “She is the one to wed Joffrey. Why?”

When Sansa saw Lillia’s face go slightly pale and then a bright crimson, hope and excitement in her eyes, she caught on slightly, “Lillia? Do you know them?”

Lillia grinned widely and grabbed Sansa’s hands, “I grew up with them at Highgarden! I cannot believe it! I haven’t seen Margaery in years! And Willas and Garlan and….Loras…”

“I do not believe Willas and Garlan are here,” Sansa replied. “It was just Mace Tyrell, Margaery and Loras. Loras helped in the fight and when Joffrey asked him what he desired in payment, Loras requested Margaery wed Joffrey. I owe them everything! If they had not suggested it to Joffrey, I would be the one wedding him!”

Lillia’s face paled, “So…. Loras…. Is here…”

Sansa nodded before frowning, “Lillia… are you alright?”

The girl hastily reached down and grabbed the bottom of her skirt before heading off, “I’ll tell you later!”

Sansa had a hard time keeping up with the fast footed girl as they rushed to the Great Hall. When she finally caught up with Lillia, the girl was peeking around one of the large pillars, looking at the crowd of Tyrell men who were feasting and drinking after their long journey.

“Why are you hiding?” the red head inquired.

“I want to see Margaery but not Loras…. Let’s just say we parted on not so good terms a few years back.”

Sansa smiled in understanding before pointing out the youngest Tyrell girl, “There she is, with Joffrey.”

Lillia spied the girl and quickly made her way through the crowd, leaving Sansa to remain hidden behind the pillar, the red head not wanting to encounter the king.

When Lillia came upon Joffrey and Margaery, she had to stare in wonder at Margaery. There was a time with the girl had been the same height as Margaery who had a few years on her but now, Margaery was a good few inches taller with slightly shorter auburn hair than Lillia but had grown with matured features and a beautiful face and elegant posture.

“Margie?” Lillia said softly, not wanting to interrupt since Joffrey was boasting loudly to the girl who pretended to be listening.

Margaery turned her head and immediately her eyes widened in joy at the sight of the girl before she rushed over to her, drawing Lillia into a tight hug.

“LILS! I cannot believe it! It is you!” She cried, pulling away to get a good look at the girl. “I never forgave father for sending you and Maya away. Oh, it is so good to see you! You have grown up! And Maya, have you seen her? Do you know where she is?”

Lillia giggled at Margaery’s many questions, “I’m so happy to see you too! Out of the two of us you definitely grew up right. And yes, I have spoken with Maya. I have not been able to see her personally, but she promised she would visit soon and with you here and your marriage to King Joffrey, I am sure you will see her.”

As the two girls chatted like two hens, a pair of blue eyes watched them from afar. Loras had been drinking and laughing with some of the men when he had spied his sister having a joyful heart attack and almost run over a petite, blond haired girl before the two had entered that state of girl chatter that Loras often deemed dangerous and scary.

However, he found his eyes drawn to the girl. She was a petite thing and standing next to Margaery who was almost the same height as Loras, the girl only reached Margaery’s shoulder. Her long golden hair was curly and fell to her hips that swayed just right. Loras was never interested in girls and had found himself drawn to men but this girl… made him forget all of that in an instant.

From what he could see from his side view of her face was that she was rosy with a little more plumpness than Margaery who was perfectly slender and elegant. The blond girl wore a simple cream dress that accented her curvy hips and perfectly rounded chest and the paleness of the dress brought out the rose of her cheeks and the freckles upon her skin that was slightly darker than Margaery’s pale complexion.

Loras found himself striding over to the two and greeting his sister, only for the strange girl to freeze before slowly turning around, green eyes wide and Loras didn’t have to ask to know exactly who the girl was.

“Loras…” The girl whispered, almost shocked with her green eyes reflecting a feeling Loras couldn’t distinguish.

“Lillia!”

(The past couple of chapters have been set roughly in season 1-3. However, for the rest of Part 1, it will be set in season 4:))

***************

Lillia’s eyes widened as round as the giant water lilacs that grew in the garden of Kings Landing when her eyes locked with the all too familiar and yet unfamiliar Loras Tyrell. It had been a good couple of years since she saw him and the last time she did, they had been nothing but children but now… the Loras standing before her was a man… a grown man with curly dirty blond locks that fell almost to his shoulders, thin quirked lips, straight nose, stormy grey eyes framed by dark, thick lashes and the just slightly cleft chin.

He wore a simple dark grey doublet over a dark green shirt, the high collar of the doublet accenting his sharp cheekbones. His eyes were trained on her and Lillia fought the deep urge to fidget with her blond curls so instead she gripped a pinch of her skirt in her hands discreetly and began to knead it between her thumb and pointer finger to keep from blushing or practically breaking down in tears.

“Loras…” the girl managed to choke out, not surprised at how soft and almost shy her voice sounded.

Lillia saw Loras’s deep, calculating orbs scan her up and down before observing each corner of her face as if trying to memorize every detail though she wondered why it took him so long since due to her “couple of goats too thick” figure according to Cersei Lannister, her face and figure did not require that much attention since she lacked the sharp features someone like Cersei would possess.

“It…” Loras said, smile still evident on his face and his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “its really great to see you again.”

Lillia beamed at him and Loras felt his heart flutter at the rosy way her cheeks flushed as she smiled.

“You too,” she said, voice still gentle but with a slight bubbly excitement edge.

Margaery smirked knowingly at her brother and best friend before speaking, “I was just telling Lillia that I hope we see Maya while we are here.”

Loras tore his eyes from the blond, “Oh, I almost forgot! You haven’t seen Maya since you’ve been here?” he immediately asked of Lillia, turning his attention back to her.

Lillia shook her head, gold curls bouncing, “No. I have not seen her since I left Highgarden.”

This wasn’t a lie since she had only been communicating with Maya via the pinnacle which was just their spirits talking, not actually seeing each other face to face and she was not about to reveal to Loras who, she knew for a fact was protective of his sisters and an avid swordsman, that his big sister was living in a brothel and Lillia could talk to her because of her strange ability to control earth and plants. It was crazy enough explaining it to Evelyn, Maya and Nanteza without showing them. She couldn’t even tell Jaime because she would then have to tell him everything including the fact that his wife was alive, in the wild and some dragon mother with fire powers.

“There you are Lills,” a familiar voice said and Lillia sighed at having been rescued before her heart exploded.

“Ser Jaime!” Lillia chirped joyfully, turning her eyes from Loras and over to Jaime who had a wickedly smug look on his face.

“Ser Jaime,” Margaery greeted, “lovely to make your acquaintance.”

Jaime bowed to the Tyrell, “My Lady. Ser Loras.” he greeted.

Loras bit back a growl when he saw Lillia inch closer to Jaime as if seeking out protection.

“You are wed to Evelyn stark is that correct?” Margaery inquired.

Jaime nodded, “That is so. I have not seen her in almost two years.”

Margaery gave him a sad smile, “I am sure Evelyn is well. I remember meeting her at my sister’s name day and if Eve is anything like she was then, she is safe and well.”

Jaime smiled gratefully at the kind and encouraging words from his soon to be in-law but Loras ground his teeth. He watched as Jaime lent down and whispered to Lillia just loud enough for the Tyrells to hear.

“Tommen wanted to know if you would dance with him tonight.”

Lillia chuckled and snorted in the process, making Margaery giggle and Loras and Jaime smile at her unladylike action.

“It seems I am doomed to be Tommen’s dance partner until he learns the steps. Fear not though, I coated my shoes with iron.”

Jaime chuckled and planted a fond kiss in the girl’s blond hair. Anyone could see that the love between the two was like father and daughter but to Loras, it was not like that but much more extreme.

“It must be difficult,” Loras said to Jaime, trying to keep his voice calm, “To have lived two years without the comforts of a wife.”

Jaime saw the way Loras’s eyes practically burned green with jealousy as they drifted back to Lilli and he caught on to the root of the boy’s comment. Pretending he hadn’t heard, Jaime spoke back.

“I heard that you remained in your sister’s cap while she was married to Stannis. I suppose you and your brother in law were close?”

Lillia’s jaw dropped, having heard the rumors that Stannis Baratheon’s wife had been left a virgin due to the king’s lust for a certain knight but she hadn’t realized it was…. Oh gosh, that explained many things!

Margaery pretended to be vastly intrigued by her wine and Loras’s jaw tensed as he and Jaime stared each other down. When Lillia touched Jaime’s arm to snap him out of it, Loras’s eyes turned to the girl and was shocked to find the light and color in her face gone, replaced by misery and pain.

“Will you excuse us?” Jaime asked, sensing Lillia’s desire to depart and when Loras made to speak to Lillia, a single scowl from Jaime shut him up.

Once Jaime had escorted Lillia to one side of the hall and fetched her a glass of water, Lillia collected herself.

“Why did you say those things to him?” She asked Jaime, “He has done nothing to you and yet you treated him like he was your childhood bully.”

Jaime sighed, “You love him Lills. I can see it as plainly as you have a nose upon your face. But he doesn’t see it because he is a foot, an idiot and most definitely interested in men. I will not have him treat you all friendly and sweet and lead you to believe he is in love with you, only for him to break your heart. You are too good to have to experience a broken heart.”

“I know!” Lillia snapped before her voice became soft, “I know he doesn’t love me and never will. That was made clear to me long ago.”

Jaime let out a breath before gathering the girl into a hug, well aware that Loras was glaring at him from across the room. If only the young fool knew that five months prior, Jaime had named Lillia his ward. Mostly to keep Cersei from forcing the girl into an evil marriage since if a girl is claimed as a ward, whoever her guardian is cannot lay sexual hands on her and is the only who can determine the ward’s husband.

“Lillia Arryn?” a girl’s voice squealed.

Lillia pulled away from Jaime and almost fainted when she recognized the tanned skin, big dark eyes, plump smooth lips, petite slender figure and brown hair immediately.

“Nanteza!?” The Dornish girl rushed into Lillia’s arms and began to ramble as a smiling Jaime left to give the two some privacy.

“I cannot believe I’m seeing you right now!” Nanteza squealed. “When uncle Oberyn told me we were coming to Kings Landing, I never thought I would actually get to see you!”

Lillia beamed, “You are definitely a sight for sore eyes!” the blond exclaimed. “Where is your uncle?”

Nanteza smirked mischievously, “He dropped by the brothel right when we landed, and you’ll never believe who he met!”

Lillia frowned before she realized the truth and her eyes rounded, “Maya!?”

Nanteza nodded, “OF course the dim wit didn’t recognize her, but I went with the guards to bring his trunks to the brothel and I saw her! She wears a mask and surprisingly modest brothel clothes. She keeps her hair covered but there is no mistaking those eyes.”

“Oh this is just getting better,” Lillia squealed before her face went serious, “But Nan… you do realize that this is the opportunity we have been hoping for. We need to get Maya out of that brothel as soon as we can and make up a reliable story to hide the truth about you know what.”

Nanteza nodded. This was going to be interesting.

[alma-berry]

Kit’s Secret Fire Message # 17

Masterlist   1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Soft rays of sunshine woke Kit earlier than he would have usually liked.

He was never a morning person, though breakfast was definitely his favourite time of day. He liked how even after three years, Jem always brought him chocolate croissants, a habit that with time turned to be somewhat of a problem, specifically when Mina developed a fondness to the pastry herself.. though that wasn’t what Kit minded. It wasn’t that Mina liked all croissants, it was that she liked his.

With a sigh and a pang of longing for his baby sister’s annoying habits, Kit pushed the blanket off him and leaped out of the bed.

Kit stretched out his hand towards the window, feeling the sweet warmness of the light caressing his skin, his completely ordinary, pale gold skin.

Good, he thought, no leftovers.

That thought brought other thoughts, other memories to his mind. Kit felt the quickening of his pulse just from hearing his name in his ears, like a lost island he was dreaming to find, a mantra chanting itself in his heart for years, Ty, Ty, Ty. He whispered his name to the morning sun, and felt the word like a kiss on lips.

A loud knock on the door startled Kit out of his thoughts.

Without thinking, he walked to the door and flung it open. It was too late when he realised that he was dressed only in his boxers, and for a fleeting second he feared that it would be Ty. After last night, a close to nudity morning show would probably be a bad idea.

Luckily, or not, Ty wasn’t the person knocking on Kit’s door. It was Carl Lindguist.

“Oh, it’s you.” Kit was so relieved, he didn’t even mind Carl’s sallow face.

“You look cheerful” Carl mumbled with evident surprise.

“Yeah well, it’s not because I’m thrilled to see you..” Kit grinned, “I just had a really good night sleep”.

Kit leaned on the door frame and eyed Carl with an uninterested expression.

“Um.. don’t you want to put some clothes on?”

Carl stared at the floor in evident discomfort, which only made Kit feel bolder.

“Nah, I’m good”

Kit crossed his arms over his chest, fully aware of how it made his biceps bulge. He really couldn’t think of a better way to start his day than to make that bastard uncomfortable.

“Does it bother you?” He asked with mock concerns.

“No” Carl answered quickly, too quickly, and the blush on his cheeks deepened.

“Are you sure? Do I make you feel nervous?”

Kit was practically giddy, not that Carl would notice, since his eyes never left the floor. It was a nice floor, though. Solid wooden surface, maybe Carl was into interior design.

“Listen, I’m only here because Adam asked me to see if you could ask Bridget for the institute’s car. You know her and Evelyn better, and there’s a better chance she would give it to you than to us.”

“Wow, Adam must not like you very much.. not that I blame him.”

“What makes you say that?” Carl seemed honestly offended.

“Well, he sent you to talk to me, knowing how little you think of my company..”

To Kit’s surprise, that seemed to catch the centurion off guard.

“I don’t..”

“Oh come on, Carl.. there’s no one around. You don’t have to work so hard to be mean to me.”

“I don’t usually have to, it just come naturally.. like breathing.”

Kit burst out laughing. “Nice! That’s the first solid burn you have ever produced. There might still be hope for you, weasel face.”

Kit leaned away from the door frame and looked Carl in the eye.

“Tell Adam I’ll take care of it” he said, and slammed the door in Carl’s baffled face.

He barely managed to put his gear pants on when came another knock on the door.

Maybe Carl missed his abs.

“I have my pants on now, Lindguist.. the conversation will be a lot less captivating-“

The word dissolved on his lips, for this time, it wasn’t Carl who was waiting outside his door. It was Ty.

He looked at him, his damp hair curling at the edges. He was slightly taller than him, but something about his posture made him seem small, almost fragile. The pale ivory of his skin gleamed like silk, and Kit swallowed hard at the memory of the feel of him, smooth and hard under his touch.

“Hi” Ty’s voice was a low, almost inaudible murmur.

His eyes flew around Kit, scanning his body quickly, like he couldn’t help himself. Kit glanced down at his bare skin, etched with traces of runes that faded, down to his naval, where the last button of his pants left unbuttoned. He felt himself flush, his thoughts before he opened the door to Carl flashed inside his head like an alarm echoing between his ears, a close to nudity morning show would probably be a bad idea. He tried to say something in response, but the words never came.

“I.. wanted to talk to you.” Ty looked like he was trying to muster the strength to say something else, but all he could manage was “please”.

Kit cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure.”

Ty made a movement, as if to go inside Kit’s room. He hastily lifted his arm to block the entrance.

Ty lifted his gaze to Kit’s face, a flash of confusion and hurt clouded his beautiful features.

Kit wanted to punch himself right then and there. Of course Ty thought he could enter Kit’s room.. why wouldn’t he? After what happened between them last night, Kit would have thought the same thing. But he couldn’t risk it, he couldn’t allow himself to be alone in a room with Ty. Not right now, when he was half clothed and almost sick with the need to hold him, to put his arms around him and feel him melt into arms.

Kit always experienced desire as something manageable. A pull in his stomach, a pleasant sort of feeling, like rain tapping on his window in a cloudy night. But as he looked at the curve of Ty’s lips, he felt it like a lightning storm. He heard it thundering down his bones, piercing his body in places he hardly ever felt before, the deep ones, those who ached with the loss of his past. But it was a different ache now, and he was a different boy.

He sank his teeth deep into his lower lip, until a faint taste of blood coated the thin layer of memories.

“I.. should get dressed first.” His voice was horas, “I’ll meet you down in the study?”

Ty nodded and turned towards the stairs, leaving Kit hyperventilating on the foot of his door.

**

Kit put on his gear so fast he wondered how he didn’t fall flat on his face in the process of it. the weapons belt hung loosely on his hips, and his fingers played with the Herondale dagger’s hilt as he entered the study room.

He tried to calm his thoughts, to think of Mina’s small giggles as she bounced in his arms.

From the second she was born, without his own volition, a sparkling chain of love seemed to tie him to her with such force he almost couldn’t breath sometimes. He loved nothing and no one in this world more than he loved his baby sister. Of course, he owed everything to Jem and Tessa, and he loved them more than he ever thought he could love two 150 old senior citizens of the downworld.. they were his parents. But Mina was the light in his life.

He played the image of her before his eyes, that porcelain like demon child that managed to hold his whole heart in her tiny hands, like it was an acorn.

With that unsteady calmness, he looked at Ty.

He was leaning at the windowsill, gazing at the darkening sky above. Kit could see the tension in his body from how he held himself, stiff and tight like an arrow, ready to fly straight into his chest.

“Ty..”

He turned to face him with an eagerness Kit didn’t expect.

“Kit,” Ty whispered breathlessly. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah.. you said that” Kit smiled at him, he couldn’t not smile. There was an energy to Ty, something that scared and excited Kit all at once.

He assumed he wanted to talk about last night. He wished he would, but also didn’t know what he would say to him. How could he reassure him, if he even wanted his reassurance, that he didn’t send him away because he didn’t want him? Or maybe Ty wanted to tell him last night had been a mistake.. maybe he only wanted to let Kit down gently, knowing, like he must already know, how Kit feels. But that wasn’t something Kit wanted to linger on, his feelings towards Ty. He never managed to escape them, but ever since they met again, all he could do is try. For his sake, and for Ty’s.

“Do you remember how I once told you that there were things I knew, about Livvy, things I didn’t know about anyone else?”

Kit wasn’t expecting this, but nodded nonetheless.

“She is my twin, so I knew them, the way she pokes her lips when she’s upset, how fire always seemed to unnerve her, even now. The way she laughs with her eyes even if she’s furious.”

Yeah, Kit thought with an ache in his heart, that sounds like Livvy.

“And I thought I could only ever know these things about her, and not about anyone else. not even about my family. But with you..”

Ty seemed to struggle with the words, and Kit couldn’t blame him. The air seemed to barely reach his lungs, and he waited in silence while Ty found his voice, and continued.

“When I first met you, you seemed to know these things about me. Everyone else had to learn, but you, with all of your mundane knowledge and movies and comics.. you, who had no way of knowing, you just.. knew. And the things I didn’t know about anyone else, those were the things I wanted to know about you. But when you left-”

His voice cracked, like a piece of wood, trying to resist a fire.

“When you left I thought I was wrong. I thought I never knew anything, that I never will.. because you didn’t want to be my friend anymore, you didn’t want me to-“

Kit couldn’t breath, couldn’t move, which was probably good since he knew that if could he would probably run to Ty, fall on his knees and beg him to forgive him, to forgive that stupid boy that he was.

“But you sent me letters, and I didn’t know what they meant. I didn’t know how to read your emotions like I could read Livvy’s. I didn’t. But I tried. And than we met again, and I tried so hard to show you how much I cared.. But in my head, through my actions, I was still alone.”

Ty’s eyes were so bright, the grey in them looked almost white. He was trying to will Kit to understand.

“I chose what I chose, I did what I did, for me.. not for anyone else, like you once told me.”

Kit opened his mouth to protest, but Ty already continued.

“Don’t say I didn’t, you know I won’t exaggerate this. And the worst part of it was that I didn’t notice how I was doing it all over again, I didn’t notice that I was hurting you, that all I ever done was to hurt you, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do, Kit.”

Ty’s paler was inked with a fierce red, spreading on his cheeks like a drop of blood on a bed of snow, like in the mundane faerietale Kit read to himself when he was young.

“I know you have no reason to trust me, but I’m asking you to at least believe when I say that you were never nothing to me, never.

You were the opposite.”

Ty looked at him, straight at him, and the silver in his eyes seemed to melt and solidify all at once, like it was reaching the core of the earth. Like in his eyes were all of the answers to every question ever asked, and all he had to do is reach out and touch it.

Before Kit could think better of it, he took a step towards Ty. His mind was a blur of images, of the past and the present merging into Ty’s blazing smile. He could feel the clenching in his throat, hear the thunder of his heart, beating like a metronome, as if counting the steps he must take to get to Ty.

He took another, and Ty’s eyes were the thin rope on which he was walking. He knew there was nothing under him, nothing to hold him if he fell, but something inside him told him that he already had.

The door to the study room flung open, and Kit could hear Adam’s voice like it was a siren calling him from the middle of the sea. With an agonising effort he turned to look at him. He even looked blurred to him, like he was adjusting his eyes to look at ordinary things after staring too long at the sun.

“What?” Kit spluttered.

“I said, did you talk to Bridget already? About the car?”

With a look on Kit’s blank face he added apologetically “We really have to get going.”

“Right.. yeah I’m on it.”

Kit couldn’t risk a look at Ty, not when his stomach was made out of tight knots that seemed to be connected to the very spot Ty was standing on. He had to walk away, and hope he wouldn’t get pulled backwards the minute he walked out of the room.

**

The car smelled ancient, and in Kit’s opinion, it also looked ancient. They were probably going to be noticed less on a flying horse than in this mouldy thing. Not that he would have mentioned it to Bridget, who gave him a hard time even as he worked his most charming smile at her. She liked him, though.. and Adam was right, she wasn’t likely to allow them to take the car if it weren’t for him. Only the old maid could refuse a group of highly appreciated centurions, but that was the case.

As they packed their share of weapons in the truck, Kit had gone through the plan once more with Adam.

“So we drive you to the first location, and head to the second one. The first of us that find anything out of the ordinary calls the others and they come right away.”

Adam gave him a thumbs up.

“Now, I know we already gone through this, but are you sure you understand the Uber app, right?”

Kit saw Ty smile at the shared memory in the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, I got it.. don’t worry.”

Everybody entered the car, and Kit wasn’t surprised to find Ty by his side. He buckled the seatbelt and tapped the GPS app at his phone with a slightly shaking hand.

“Remind me the address to the second location?”

“Chislehurst Caves.”

It was Ty who answered, his deep voice sending uncontrollable shivers down Kit’s spine.

Kit started the car and turned on the radio. An old rock song Kit faintly remembered played itself through the silence between them.

He lowered his window and marvelled at the feeling of the wind in his hair.

The singer voice was like a caress, though something in the lyrics felt morbidly ominous.

He glanced a look at Ty, who opened his window as well. His right hand was out, dancing through the wind like a conductor’s. The music grew louder and Kit’s mind drifted to Ty’s words at the study, and to the swelling of his heart.

Kit lived with Jem and Tessa long enough to learn of his extended family. He knew about Will Herondale, the lies he told to protect his loved ones, and how it almost cost him everything. He knew of James and Stephan and Jace. He knew of the men in his family, and how they always suffered, and nearly always because of that thing, that thing that made them a Herondale. Jem would have called it a fierce heart, and maybe it was true.. but Kit figured he could keep the family resemblance down to the good looks.

He won’t do the same mistake almost every man of his bloodline had made. He will tell Ty the truth about himself, and if he’ll want him, even with everything that he is.. they will find a way to deal with his powers, together.

Because Kit had no doubts, as he looked at Ty’s illuminated profile, his hair blowing away like black dandelion in the wind.

He loved him. He knew that now, and the knowledge gave him strength. He loved him, and he will not lose him again.

The song came to an end, and Kit’s heart thumped with the last sentence, repeating itself over and over again like a sentence tattooing itself on his heart. “There is a light and it never goes out”.

[slimeyslimeyballsack]

Prologue

      Betty-Anne Cooper was a patient woman. She survived seventeen years on a farm. ‘Honest work makes an honest woman.’ Her mother always said. She survived high school. She survived the pervy boys. She survived law school. She survived a night in jail. She wasn’t sure she would survive this. This was Betty-Anne’s fourth interview this week, her second today. 

She sat there, heels tapping on the ground. She had worn her finest clothes, curled her brown bob, and had scrounged up enough makeup to look nice. Her red lips contrasted with her pale skin. And her heels made her look tall. Taller than she was anyway. An hour and a half had passed since 12:15, which was when her interview was to be held. The woman with her kept insisting that they would be ready soon. Nevertheless, Betty-Anne waited…. and waited…. and waited some more. 

       Finally. At 1:05 a young man came out. He looked her up and down, nodded, and waved her into his office. If it could be called an office. A wooden desk with a lamp and a potted plant filled the entire room. He gestured for her to sit. 

       “My name is John Edwards. You are Betty-Anne Cooper. 26 years old. You grew up working on a farm.”

       “Yep. Baled hay till college.” She spoke, her voice was smooth, and she spoke with a thick Boston accent. 

       He continued with his questions, firing one after another. Until of course the dreaded one arrived. The one that had cost her every other interview. 

       “Miss Cooper, you have a degree in law. Why are you here?”

       “You’re the only one who’d take me, sir.”

       “It says here you socked him after he refused to hire you?”

       “He wouldn’t hire me ‘cause I’m a skirt. I’ll tell you right now Mr. Edwards. He looked at me and from the moment he saw me he was gonna say no. He says ‘A Bim can’t be no lawman’ and says he won’t hire me.” Betty-Anne clenched her jaw, fisting and un-fisting her hands. 

       “Well, Betty-Anne. I believe your attitude is exactly what we need. Welcome to the Hotsy Hoofer.”

       “Thank you, Mr. Edwards. You won’t regret it.” She grasps his hand, shaking it violently, a huge grin on her face. 

       She returned the next day, this time coming in through the back. A huge flashing sign read ‘Hotsy Hoofer’. Most of the lights weren’t operational, and the ‘fer’ was falling off of the building. Still, she didn’t let that diminish her attitude. 

She walked through the metal door only to discover the biggest trash heap she had ever seen. The entire place looked as if it hadn’t been dusted since it was built. The carpet had large rips, revealing the cement beneath it. If you were to look in the vanities you would hardly see yourself. Makeup and costumes lay across miscellaneous surfaces.  Betty-Anne made a mental note to clean the place up. 

“I mean it, Evelyn, he’s a real sheik, I think he’s the one.” 

“He’s just another palooka. He’s just like the–”

The voice cut off.

“You must be Betty-Anne.”

It belonged to a woman who appeared to be in her late-thirties. Her black hair had clearly been curled and straightened too many times. Way too much makeup tried to cover up the wrinkles of what was actually a very lovely woman. She stood almost a foot taller than Betty-Anne. Her brown eyes gazed down at her, waiting for an answer. 

“That I am.”

“Well, that’s going to have to change. My name is Evelyn Andersen, but most plugs ‘round here call me Justice Seeka. And this is my friend.” 

“Susan Dole, but everybody calls me Lady Luck.” She giggled and held out her hand. The voice that came out of her was high pitched and nasally, but she seemed kind enough. 

It fit with her childish appearance. She had black pigtails and bangs just over her eyebrows. Her cheeks still had leftover baby fat on them, and her brown eyes sparkled with excitement. 

“Like Evelyn said, you’re gonna need a stage name. Something for the butter and egg men to call ya.” She paused to think.

“Ooh, let’s make it a pun. I love puns. You know I love puns Ev and now you do to Bette. I can call you that right? I just love handing out nicknames. It’s kind of my thing.” She took a couple of breaths in and continued. 

“Alright, Moony Eye? That’s dumb. Berry Lovely? Oh! I know! Ivory Perty.” She clung to Betty-Anne, jumping up and down.

Betty-Anne, startled, stiffened up, causing Susan to look at her in confusion. 

“I need a stage name? What for?” 

The two chuckled and turned, motioning for her to follow them. They made their way to a rack with clothes on it. 

“The first week, since you don’t know the dance yet, you’ll probably be waitressing. We have practice for an hour every night after the joint closes. We’ll get you fitted for a costume until then you need something to wear. The rule is it can’t go past your knee and your belly has to be showing. If you’re dancing that changes because generally, we have a theme or something like that. So put some of these on.” 

Susan and Evelyn shoved her shirts and skirts. Most had barely any material. 

“These couldn’t cover a baby!” Betty-Anne was repulsed and dropped the clothes on the ground. 

“Yeah, but aren’t they cute.”

“Of course, but that’s not the point. These are just to make me look like a sheba.” 

They argued until Betty-Anne, finally tired, chose from the top of the pile. A beaded dress with threads that hung like curtains. The ladies fitted her with a cigarette holder and sheer gloves. 

“Now since your pretty short, you’re gonna have to wear tall shoes. Boss wants us to be the same height.” 

Betty-Anne tried, boy, did she try to walk in those shoes. She just could not do it. 

“Come on Bette, you gotta try. Boss’ll be real sore if you don’t wear ‘em. Come one like this. Heel, toe. Heel, toe.” Susan encouraged. 

It took practice, a lot of practice, but Betty-Anne could finally walk. 

“And remember, you gotta be able to dance, so I’d wear them as much as possible outside of work.” 

Betty-Anne made her way behind the bar in her new getup. She did her job silently, that is until she heard a catcall. She grabbed the man’s shirt and pulled him close.

       “Listen here suspenders, I don’t wanna hear another word out of your mouth, less you wanna kick off.” 

       Evelyn, noticing the scuffle, made her way over, unhooked Betty-Anne, and sent the scoundrel on his way. 

       “Now, what’s the matter?” 

Betty-Anne lit a cigarette, it helped with the stress.

       “I hate this, I’m just doing this for the  and I love this outfit and all, but I hate that it’s all for show.”

       “Then don’t put on a show. Do this for you, not them.” 

       Evelyn went back to her duties, and Betty-Anne thought about her words.

       That night Betty-Anne practiced walking in her new shoes. She practiced skipping and leaping and may have rolled her ankle a few times. She practiced a flirty smile and sparkling eyes. 

She came to work the next evening incredibly energized. 7:00 pm sharp. She dressed in her beads and gloves, lit a cigarette, and started pouring drinks. She flirted with the men a little and ignored them for the most part. She flaunted and hummed and earned double her wage in tips. The night went by quickly, and Betty-Anne had kind of enjoyed it. Midnight came around and the girls changed out of their costumes and back into day clothes. 

“You were great tonight, look at all that sugar.” Susan bounced up behind her, eyeing up her tips. Evelyn followed. 

“Yeah, you were. What changed kid?” she gave a quizzical look. 

“I guess I just decided that I can be confident in me for myself and I won’t let those boobs get in the way of that.” 

Evelyn grinned softly at her. “That’s the spirit.”

“You know Bette, we heard that a new diner opened up downtown, and Ev and me were wondering if you wanted to come.” 

“Yeah. I would. That would be nice.”

[josiecarioca]

Waiting (one-shot)

Requested by @artisticreptilequeen and @latitsoso

Summary: Soren Snape has chosen a lonely path for himself that not even his closest friend can help him walk. 

(Soren Snape x Audrey Blake, characters mentioned: Severus Snape,Evelyn Black and Eloise Snape)

Also available on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010311

Tagging:  @snapescapades  @mafagafobebum  @marvelschriss @codename-thedoctor @zealouspickleeggdragon @green-oasis @drawnfromthedead @snapescapadesafterdark @serosvit @snapecentric @hayalee8 @oliverlandomens @sleepysnapesnake @lily-themadqueen-andpinky @paracosim @the-witches-son @aikersen @violet-knox @viper-official @be-zoar @thepomegranatejuice @alwyssnpe @siriuslysircadogan @hbprincealice

     …

“Soren, are you alive?”

Soren opened his eyes and looked around, searching for that familiar voice. He didn't know the place around him. It looked nice enough, though. A small livingroom, with teal colored walls covered in classic movie posters and a moon themed tapestry hanging next to a tall bookcase, loads of colorful cushions and, in front of him, a square coffe table with food and cooking themed hardcovers and a notebook filled with a round and small handwritting he knew all too well. He found himself laying on a soft white couch, “Golden Girls” was playning on the TV in front of him.

He sat up, feeling as if the room was moving around him like a ship in open sea. His clothes were sticking to him, tight and uncomfortable and his mouth was so dry he felt a bitter taste in his tongue. He didn´t remember drinking any water since right after curtain call.

Soren heard the sound of something frying, before the smell hit him. His stomach growled. He couldn't remember when he had last eaten anything that day.

“You´re getting glitter all over my couch.” that voice...Soren shook his head, suddenly angry at himself. How had he ended up here of all places? Idiot!

“Audrey, I...” he called out but his head felt like it just about split in two when he raised his voice. “I mean...how did I...”

“Here...” the voice approached. He looked up and there she was. Audrey, in a dusty pink turtleneck wool dress that hugged her plump figure, black leggings and boots, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, with thick bangs framing her roud, dollish face. She looked like she was either going to a date or  coming back home from one when he, at least he assumed, crashed-landed at her door.

She held a plate in front of his face and it smelled something like heaven is supposed to smell.

“This is what you eat when you're flat on your arse drunk, if I recall correctly. Rashers, eggs benedict and your mother's cheddar, chive and potato pancakes. Right?”

“You...know how to make mam´s pancakes? ” he smiled, hoping foolishly that small talk would delay the earfull he was about to get. “She never gave anybody this recipe. Not even my cousins.”

“I lived with your parents for a whole year remember? I've seen auntie Lyn make this more times than I can count.”

Even though he felt like somebody had taken an axe to his skull and split it clean in two, Soren had to smile.

“Thank you. You didn't have to.”

“I sort of did have to, though” she let out, sounding tired “I found you laying on my doorstep, looking healf dead. Trust me, I was tempted to just walk around you and leave you there, but then what would I say next time I visit your parents? Besides, my landlord and neighbours wouldn't be too happy. Here, you´re going to need this. You must be dehydrated.”

She put a gallon of water on the table in fronto of him. Soren shugged nearly half of it before he could even begin to think about eating.

“Now, pray tell...what has gotten into you?” she crossed her arms and stood before him, looking far taller than her 5 feet, maybe 5'3 including the boots. Soren looked at her, pleased to notice she had put on weight. She looked like her normal self again, he thought. Last time he'd seen her she looked gaunt, almost.

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Is it a normal occurence for you to prance about town drunk off you mind and pass out in front of people´s doors dressed like Beetlejuice and Dr. Frank'n'Furter's lovechild?”

“Oh, this!” Soren looked down at himself, finally remembering...

The effin' costume. Yeah, she was right. Her neighbours wouldn't be none too pleased to see a 6´2  man in full make-up wearing a leather corset-garter combo with stockings and high heels under a stripped trenchcoat passed out drunk in the hallway.

“I was...working.”

“Working? Is this an honest-to-God opera costume, or the Ministry for Magic had you go undercover in a fetish brothel?”

“Costume. The Ministry doesn´t usually have me dress up nice and sexy  when they want to get me fucked. Hardly pay me as well as they should for it either.”

“What opera are you in this time around?”

“Orphée aux enfers...Our director decided to give the  Kosky version a run for its money, so of course genderfuck drag was the way to go. Because why the fuck not? ”

“We're just going to pretend like you didn't love the idea...” she smirked. That was good...he hoped.

“Well, yeah, we decided to have a few drinks after the performance, and Henri thought it would be hilarious to just go out partying in full costume.”

“Who?”

“Henri Fournier...he played Orpheus”

“Of course...” Audrey, sighed, no longer amused.

“He's a riot, you should meet him.” Stop digging, Soren. She´s already mad at you, no need to act like a bufoon.

“And you should shower and change.”

“I´m afraid I don't have anything to change into...Unless, what's his name, your...”

“Ethan, his name is Ethan.”

“Yeah, him, unless he doesn´t mind me borrowing his things...”

“I´ll see if he left something here...”

“Left...I thought you two were...”

“He moved out.”

“When was that? Last we talked you we...”

“Come on, finish eating go have a shower, I'll find something for you to wear.”

“Hey, Shortcake, I...” He let out without even thinking. It had been so long since he last called her that, years maybe, but somehow it just poured from his lips.

“Don't...call me that.”

“I'm sorry...I really am. About this whole thing as well, I really don't know how I ended up at your door, I would never...”

“You don't have to apologize. Just eat, take your shower and...” she sighed “...we´ll see.”

…

Soren was tripping over himself so badly Audrey had half a mind to offer help. But eventually he got himself to the bathroom. She glued her ear to the door, half expecting to hear him collapse inside. The sound of the water running reassured her enough to step away and try to find something for him to wear, hoping Ethan had forgotten at least a pair of shorts or something.

Typical Soren to put her in this situation without even thinking. He never did think, did he?  Just did whatever he wanted to do and everything else be damned. Nevermind that his parents were constantly worried sick about him, that his sister had to keep calling him to remind him he had a family and he should go see them sometime. Audrey was almost sure neither his father nor his mother knew what he was up to.

That he was spying for the. ministry.

His father would never allow it.

Audrey had been only a spectator, entirely foreign to their world of magic and wars no one of her kind was supposed to know, but she knew well enough, apparently even better than Soren, that it was a disastrous idea for the son of Severus Snape to be a spy. To collect inteligence about the very same criminals who still had a reward out for his father's head. Soren was born with a target on his back. Even as a child, Death Eaters had tried to get to him, the same with his sister, Eloise. And why wouldn't they? What better revenge on the man who brought down their leader than to harm his children? Audrey knew from hearing whispers and bits and pieces of conversations when she had lived with his parents in Glencoe, right after deciding to go no contact with her mother. She knew from what Eloise told her, in a vain, desperate attempt to get her to help knock some sense into her brother.

But Audrey also knew there was nobody on earth who could keep Soren from doing what he wanted. Sometimes she was tempted to tell Severus and Evelyn what he was doing behind their back. If they knew...They thought Soren was travelling around the world singing. A successful baritone, touring Salzburg, Paris, New York, Lord knew where else. Surely that shouldn´t prevent him from coming home now and then, however...But he would go months without showing up, so his parents, maybe, just thought that if he didn´t show up for Christmas or Easter it was because he was somewhere in a nightclub or a bar, partying. And sometimes that was true, but not always. At times, she wondered how and when they would find out, and hoped it wasn´t through some tragedy.

But...sometimes she also wondered if they didn't already know. If they were just waiting for him to finally be honest with them. Maybe neither Severus nor Evelyn could bring themselves to believe Soren would do that to them, so they acted like they didn't suspect, when in reality, they knew. Maybe they were just hoping he'd show himself worthy of their trust. Just waiting for him to come around.

So Audrey said nothing. It wasn't her place to, after all. If Eloise hadn´t, then she certainly had no right.

She finally found something. And old t-shirt and some pajama pants. Good thing Ethan was tall, she thought. This would do for Soren to at least make it back home, or wherever he was staying in London. Come to think of it...She shook her head and left the clothes on the bed where he could find once he was done showering.

“Soren?”  She called once the water stopped running and she could hear him in her bedroom.

“Yeah?” he sounded a bit more sober.

“I'll call your sister, do you have her girlfriend's number? Maybe they can pick you up.”

Soren didn't answer answer immediately. Instead he took his time to get dressed and came back to the livingroom, sat on the couch and took another swig of water from the bottle.

“So, should I call her?”

“I would literally rather you hand me over to a dementor.”

“Maybe if I knew how. Eloise is my next best choice.”

“Eloise will never let me hear the end of it.”

“She wouldn'r be wrong, now would she?”

He didn't answer. He just made that face. That face he put on when he knew he was wrong, when he knew he had no good excuse. The corners of his mouth turned slightly upwards in an odd, clumsy smile, and his nostril flared slightly as he breathed out, then he looked away. Thinking of the next joke, of the charming comment that would deflect questioning, the next change of subject.  Had been that way since he was a boy. Soren always knew when to leave an argument well enough alone. This way he wouldn't have to admit he was wrong.

“As soon as my head doesn´t feel like the the 1812 overture is playing on surround sound inside my skull, I can see myself out.” she shrugged with that devil may care grin that could get him whatever he wanted.

Audrey sighed. She didn´t have the energy to argue, And true to be told, if she hadn't found him passed out drunk at her door after nearly a year of no contact whatsoever, she would be happy he was there. Wasn´t this what they used to do, back when things were different? Staying up at night, huddled up on the couch, watching old TV programmes reruns till the wee hours of the night? She missed that. She missed having Soren around, she missed his stupid jokes, his impromptu performances. She missed him singing “Largo al factotum” early in the morning as he shaved, his voice filling her bathroom till the upstairs neighbours complained.

But she didn´t miss what came with it. She didn´t miss the disappearances, the weeks and months without a single phone call, the excuses, the worry, the panic...

“You already ruined my couch with all that sodding makeup” she sighed, sitting next to him “Might as well spend the night. But you´ll have to be out before noon. I´m working the lunch shift this week.”

“How's that going? Mam told me you made it to sous-chef.”

“Yeah, which sounds impressive until you realize it just means I'm the first in line to be verbally abused when Bastianinni wakes up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“I worked with a Bastianinni once...It was for the best sharp knives are not part of our line of work, or the whole cast would have used him for target practice, down to the children's choir. When a tenor decides to be a diva, oof...”

“So, you´ve been talking to your mother?”

“Yeah, I called her and dad last week from Salzburg...to apologize for not showing up for Christmas again. She told me you were there.”

“I was. I assume that's how you got my address...”

“I...I mean...is not like she” Soren stammered like a little boy caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.

“Did you really think your mother would give you my address if I didn't tell her it was ok?” Audrey smiled “I´m just surprised you asked.”

“Why wouldn't I ask?”

“You tell me...For the past four years I´ve seen more of your parents and your sister than I´ve seen you. And you don't call anybody, just go off for months on end...”

“You know why that is...”

“I do. That´s why I don't wait for you anymore. It's pointless. But then when I give up waiting, you decide to show up.”

“Is not like I planned to just...”

“You never do.”

“Audrey, I...”

“I´ll get you a pillow and some covers, it's getting late.” She couldn't let him speak. If he started he'd take her in again. And before she knew it, she would be waiting again...for a phone call, a message, waiting for that moment she'd finally be fully a part of his world. A moment that would never come, no matter how long she waited. Not for her and not for anybody else. Soren had chosen a rocky path that only fit the steps of one person: himself. She couldn´t walk with him, and it would be fooolish to wait for him to come back any time soon.

“You said you were working lunch shift tomorrow.” the sweetness on his voice reached her as she got up from the couch, disarming. “Can´t you stay a little while longer?”

[imwilliamwood]

                                         SELF PARA | That Wasn’t Fair.

“Will get your jacket we’re going out,” “Where?” he quickly interjected, looking to the older man. “The pub, come on,” his father insisted as he put on his own coat.

Will felt a shiver up his spine, they’d never been for a drink, they’d never been to the local together. It was always a cover up and it made him feel sick.

“I’m okay, I’m not in the mood.” “Son, get your coat,” his father’s voice became stern.

The young man looked over as he was helping his mother dry the dishes. He noticed the shift in atmosphere had taken her attention too. There was a pause before he found his courage.

“I’m okay, Dad, I don’t want to go,” he croaked. “Sweetheart, he can go tomorrow,” Evelyn spoke softly. “We have golf tomorrow, dearest,” Edward smiled at his wife before looking back at his only son with a harsher gaze. “Get your jacket, I’ll be outside,” he stared at him before leaving.

Dropping his head, Will swallowed hard as he set the plate and tea towel down. He really didn’t want to go. He knew this was, it wasn’t as innocent as a drink at the local pub.

“Go on, darling, who knows you may enjoy it,” Evelyn smiled.

Will didn’t have the heart to look at her in the eye. If she knew he son was going to a Death Eater meeting, it would destroy her. If she knew he was part of the very people she was risking her life to fight, he wouldn’t be able to live with it, his mother would never forgive him.

A kiss on his cheek softened his tense stance as he slowly got his coat and walked out of the house into the evening air. “Dad-” he began before he was quickly silenced by an arm being raised. Knowing the silent order, he took his arm before the disapparated into thin air.

It took two stops to get to London and Will fell back against the brick wall of the alley they arrived in. Panting softly, he always felt sick after travelling this way. There wasn’t time to recover as a mask was quickly shoved to his chest with a strict order of, “put this on now.”

Taking the mask, he gagged softly before spitting on the floor. A groan of discomfort left him before a tight grasp on his shoulder shook him into attention. “Pull yourself together, boy,” his father snarled. “I won’t have you making a fool of yourself in there, smarten up.”

Will followed him to a concealed location, placing the mask over his face once they arrived, he followed his father into the basement of a building. He could feel his hot breath against the mouth of the mask as his eyes looked around through the two small openings in the mask. These people threatened his friends, made him fear for his safety and his mother’s.

He kept hidden in the back. If he could be as far to the edge of the room as possible, he could maybe just pretend he was spying or overhearing rather than actively taking part.

“Wood, provided some information regarding the Ministry and their efforts in combating the rise of the Dark Lord. We also have further locations revealed of blood traitors in hiding.”

William felt his stomach flip. Their name had been mentioned. It had never been mentioned until now. These people would hear Wood and associate it with him. They’d know he was here. There was no pretending now, there was no denying it and hiding his dirty secret. Anyone in that meeting would know Edward Wood was a Death Eater and would soon conclude so was his son.

The boy looked to his father as he saw the expression in his eyes. It wasn’t pride, it was... shame. His father felt shame? This didn’t make sense? His father wanted this didn’t he? Will adored his Dad, he’d been his role model for many years but over the last few years he’d changed into a man he didn’t recognise. Something about seeing just his eyes opened a new perspective on the man he still held love for in his heart. It didn’t make sense for him to feel shame. Did he regret what he was doing? Then why was he doing it?

As his father’s eyes met his, Will quickly looked away as he Dad squeezed his shoulder and pulled him to stand beside him. They were united in this decision. Sure he’d forced his son into it but he would support him rather than abandon him. Will felt incredibly conflicted on everything.

“Missions are to be delegated. We lost numbers on the last run, newer recruits will be dispatched instead,” came the next line that his ears tuned into. His heart stopped as a list of names began to fill the air and that’s when he heard “Wood Jr” among the names --- He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

The grip on his shoulder tightened and Will sensed the unease in that gesture. Why was he doing this now? It almost made it worse. He’d rather the father who was pushing him into this blindly. Not the father who was pushing him into it with some regret and remorse.

“No... n-n-n-no, no,” he uttered under his breath, barely audible to anyone but his father.

He was pushed forward by that hand as he took the document and then retreated back to his corner of the room. He had someone’s death sentence in his hands. Will had someone’s death order in his hands, an instruction for him to murder someone he didn’t even know, hopefully.

As soon as it was over, Will was out of the door. He was halfway down the street when the repetitive calls of his name finally got his attention and he turned to face his father. The glare on the Slytherin’s face was one that contained so much hate, upset and blind rage.

“Come on,” Edward gripped him by the back of his neck and quickly apparated them both.

It was on the second stop that Will pulled away. They were on a mountain range somewhere in South England but right now, Will was emptying the contents of his stomach. The stress of the situation, the travel, it was all too much for him to cope with. The boy coughed as he wiped his mouth and groaned in disgust at the taste in his mouth. He hadn’t the words to express himself.

Turning back to face his father, tears were running down his face as the wind blew coldly.

“You put this on me,” he screamed at him. “You did this to me, I-” Will felt the envelope in his inside pocket. This was all so wrong and went against every bone in his body.

“I can’t leave because they’ll kill me. Dad. Do you realise what you’ve done? They want to kill people like Mum. They want to kill my friends, people I love.. because of what? Because of a stupid bloodstatus they had no decision over,” he raged at him. “I-” Will broke as his voice cracked. “I have to kill someone, Dad. I have to murder people with a curse I’ve never uttered before, a curse I have only read about in school. Dad I’m still in school. I’m-” Will broke down as he dropped to the floor and let down all of his defences. He couldn’t do it. “I haven’t even finished my exams and now I’m expected to murder someone, split my soul by stealing another.”

The silence from the other man was the last thing he wanted. He wanted him to fix this. He wanted him to reverse it, make it all better. That sadly wasn’t an option here.

“Say something!” he yelled at him, holding his head in his hands.

The sudden grip of his shirt dragged him to his feet. His eyes met his father’s as his face was inches from the man who he’d idolised as a boy. “Pull yourself together, the world is bigger than you William,” the man snapped at his son. “We all have to make sacrifices for the better. This way, we have a chance, our family has a chance, your mother... has a chance,” he argued.

“They’re going to win the war, William and if that happens, your mother won’t survive and they’ll kill you too. At least if you’re part of it, you’re safe. If we’re part of it, I can trade information for your mother’s safety,” he gripped his shirt tighter dragging him closer. “Man up and pull yourself together, you’re fighting for your family here son, nobody else,” Edward growled. “You do as you’re told, you play a good little soldier and you’ll walk away from this unscathed.”

Will gripped onto his hands that were holding his shirt. His father was much taller than him so he was forced onto his tip-toes to provide some leverage for his weight. “What about me Dad.. what about my soul?” he whimpered softly. “I can’t do it... I can’t kill someone,” his voice broke.

“War isn’t kind, William. You’ve been sheltered from it for most of your life. Now you have to step up. I can’t. I have done as much as I can but keeping you and your mother safe is my priority.”

The boy choked back a sob as he averted his gaze. “I hate you,” he croaked. The grip on his shirt loosened a little before he found his courage. “I hate you,” he repeated.

“But I love you cause you’re my Dad but-” Will pulled away as he wiped his eyes. His expression broke as a sob spilled from his mouth. He couldn’t cope with this grief inside of him.

“But you don’t do you. How could you ever know what you’ve put on my shoulders? Without even giving me the option. Forcing me into something. Lying to me. You promised you’d keep me safe and all you’ve done is-” the boy looked away as he shook his head. “I’m the one making the sacrifices here, Dad. I have to cast that curse, not you,” he argued back at him. “How could you put that on your son and claim that you’re protecting him? Can’t you see yourself?”

Hanging his head he drew in a heavy breath as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I hate you.”

“I know,” Edward said quietly as he dragged his son into a hug and apparated.

Arriving at their front door, Will pushed him away and went inside the house. His father held back as he watched his only boy walk back into their family home but not as they left it.

This war was destroying their family and it was destroying his son.

Will retreated to his room as he shut the door and dragged his quidditch trunk in front of it. He just couldn’t face his mother right now. She’d ask too many questions. He took off his jacket and glanced down through teary eyes and the brown envelope fell onto his bedroom floor. It had truly come home with him now, there was no escaping it. No more hiding, no more pretending.

He couldn’t even hate his Dad because he knew in his mind, what he was doing was right. He still believed there were selfish intentions at heart. Maybe it hard started that way. Selfish intentions to cover his past but as the threat loomed closer, intentions had changed to family. 

The boy screwed up the envelope in his hands. He didn’t want to read the name. He didn’t want to know who he was killing. His stomach flipped at the very thought. He didn’t even believe he could go through with the act. How could he take someone’s life? He could barely throw a punch without good reason. To rob someone of existence for no good reason seemed impossible. What would his friends think of him? What would his mother think? How would he live with himself?

He pushed the envelope deep into the back of his wardrobe. He kept it hidden with all the lost items that barely saw daylight, that was where it belonged. He didn’t want to think about it.

Sitting back on his bed, he picked up his phone, his eyes hovering over text messages from his friends. Some of them, the type of people he was ordered to kill. Dropping his phone, Will hung his head as he broke down in tears once more. He couldn’t do this.

[bringmetolife-pwff]

Part One: Chapter Five - The truth of the matter

Evelyn was back at her sister's apartment that she was staying at with her after having a nice night with her parents and dog, Bran.  She had received Jake's message and was quite nervous.  

She was meeting up with Jake today, to be honest a little afraid of what might come from this.  

"Hi Jake," she greeted him with a small smile as he hugged her.

Jake was older than her being thirty-two years old.  He had short curly brown hair, he was tall, had a long nose, defining cheekbones and a muscular build.  All in all, he was handsome.  

"Evelyn," he greeted back.  "I would say it's nice to see you again but given the circumstances..."

She would have laughed at that if she hadn't known what this meeting was about.  It was about Liam and Blair.

Evelyn and Jake took their seats and scanned over their menus.  He kept glancing at her, unsure of where to start with why he wanted her here today.  The waitress came to order their drinks and their food.

"Mind if I smoke?" He said wanting to check with her first.

"Go ahead," she nodded her head as she watched him take a cancer stick out and lit it, slowly puffing out the smoke as he fought with how he should go about this.

"So," Jake cleared his throat.  "I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here."

"That might have crossed my mind," said Eve.  "But I figured it had to do with Blair and Liam."

"The truth of the matter is that we both got the shitty end of the whole debacle," Jake concluded to his good friend as he shrugged his shoulders taking another sip of his beer.  "You know as well as I do that we have never shagged.  Not once," he hold up his pointer finger to make a point.  "Bloody hell if I'm going to just sit back and take it."

"What do you reckon you're going to do?" Evelyn asked with curiosity and slight annoyance.  She wasn't sure what she was more annoyed at.  The fact that she hadn't seen it sooner that her ex-best friend used her or the fact that she was blind enough not to see it.  "Go to the tabloids and have a tell-all interview?  That won't go down quite well, will it?"

Evelyn was never one to complain especially to the tabloids.  Damned if she would sell her soul that far to the devil.  You'd have to be an idiot bloke to do that!

"Why's that so bad, hm?" Jake questioned her.  "It's letting the media know what really happened."

"Jake, regardless of what happened, there's always going to be people who believe those bloody tabloids.  No matter what.  You can't make everyone happy.  It wasn't just you this happened to.  It was me too."

"I know," he let out a frustrated sigh as he rubbed his face frustrated with the dilemma they were put in but also understanding Evelyn's point of view.

The tabloids were told lies about not only their character but also were possibly destroying their reputations knowing fully that there would always be people who believed them.  They didn't care who they hurt as long as they got a story out there that was interesting and would make money.  She had learned from her dad at an early age never try to take it personally what they say about you.  Although sometimes she did.  Especially this.

"Well even though I don't know what will come of this, I do know one thing.  You deserve the best, Evelyn.  You really do."

"Thank you Jake," she said with a small smile.  "You deserve the best too."

Now that she thought about it, she remembered that she always did feel bad for Jake when he was dating Blair.  Even though she loved Blair she always felt like he got the short end of the stick in the relationship.  

They finished the rest of their lunch catching up on each other's lives and what the other was up to right now.  It had been months since they had seen each other and it was sad that it took this for them to reach out to each other.

***

As she lay in her bed she was eating a box of her favourite chocolates watching reruns of I love Lucy and Breakfast at Tiffany's.  At the moment it was Breakfast at Tiffany's.  Whenever she was sad or down she these were the movies she always turnt to.  

It was the scene where Holly meets Paul as she ate her chocolates with tears streaming down her face from her blue cerulean eyes.  

Evelyn heard the door open and knew that her sister, Vivienne, was home now.  

"Shit, Evelyn," Viv said to her sister.  "What the hell happened?"

Evelyn paused the telly as she finished a bite chocolate.

"I had lunch with Jake."

"Our brother Jake?" Vivienne said confused as her eyebrows furrowed.  "What could he have possibly said to make you upset?"

Although Jake and Evelyn weren't as close like she and Eric, they still deeply admired the other.  Wanting only the best for each other.  Vivienne on the other hand was closest to Jake and sometimes found it hard when Eve and Jake got in rows with each other.  

"No, not that Jake," Evelyn laughed as she shook her head.  "Jake Levingston.  Blair's ex."

"Oh," Vivienne scrunched up her nose in distaste.  She honestly didn't want her sister to have anything to do with any of them.  Not that she didn't mind Jake but he was linked to Blair.  Vivienne was different from her sister.  Once you messed up horribly, it was hard for her to forgive them.  This was the first time that Evelyn wasn't going to forgive Blair and Liam.  There were some things that just weren't forgivable.  "Again, what did he want?"

Vivienne had met Jake quite a few years ago.  They had been in similar social circles but had never met until her sister knew him.  She liked him when she first met him but felt as though he had been tainted by Blair and was no longer deemed as attractive in her eyes.

"We were discussing the rumours of us sleeping together and how he believes that Blair and Liam are behind them.  I know you don't like Jake, but trust me, you don't have to worry about him.  I know that you think because he was with Blair he's not as attractive anymore but he is not who we have to worry about.  He's a good friend."

***

On her desk the next day as she arrived to work she was confused and shocked to see a beautiful bouquet of flowers including carnations, scabiosas, snapdragons and ruscus sitting on her desk in a vase with a card.  Walking closer toward the vase she took the card out of its place and read it.

Thought you could use some cheering up.

- W

She tried to rack her brain who W could be.  W?  Who the bloody hell goes by W?  She had her friend Warren but he was married to her good friend Elise.  It dawned on her that these were from William.  Evelyn smiled as she shook her head wishing she could talk to him.  They arrived at the perfect time.

With all the shit that has gone down its amazing that Evelyn is still afloat.  It seemed as though it was bad news after bad news.  

Evelyn had another busy day at work but to her busy was good.  Being busy meant that business was booming.  That she was able to provide for her employees and that people were still making her dream come true.

It was now the end of the day and she headed back to the apartment.  It was cosy but she also knew she wanted her own space.  She loved her sister, but she knew she couldn't live here forever, although it was great in the meantime.

It was a rainy day in London as she walked along the cobblestone streets feeling some of the gaps between the stones between her pink heels.  Her mobile rang as she reached in her coat pocket for it having just finished with work.

"Hello?" said Evelyn as she was fishing for her keys as she walked to her car.

"Eve, hi!" Elise's chipper voice rang through the mobile allowing her to smile at the familiar, friendly tone.  "How're you?"

Elise had also been one of Evelyn's good friends since primary school.  She was the complete opposite of Evelyn.  She was taller than her.  Elise had fiery red hair and a personality to match.

"I've been okay.  And you?"

"I'm fine, thank you.  I was just curious.  What do you think about taking a short holiday?"

***

"Twice in one day, Lieutenant?" Evelyn said with a casual smirk as she answered her mobile to William as she was finally home.  "Aren't I lucky?"

"Lieutenant, huh?" William joked back.  "That's a first.  But no, I wanted to see how you were doing and to let you know I'll be in London in a few weeks."

"Really?" A big grin made its way to her face as she thought about seeing William again.  "Well, you'll have to let me know what day so that we can have that dinner..."

"Oh no," William laughed liking the fact she seemed to be in a better mood.  "I can't let you know yet."

"Why not?"

"Because it's a surprise."

"Well, I should let you know then I'm taking a short holiday."

"Really?  How long will you be gone?  Any idea where you are headed?"

"I'll be gone for a week with my good friend Elise.  We're headed to Shere, Surrey.  Ever been?" She asked him curious of all the places he's traveled to.

"I can't say that I have," he told her honestly.  "Isn't it a quiet little village?"

"It is," Evelyn nodded her head even though he couldn't see her.  "It'll be nice to get out of the city for a bit.  Thank you for the flowers, William.  They were beautiful."

"It was my pleasure," he said sincerely.  

Because he was away with the military at the moment he asked his father if he could order a bouquet of flowers and send it to her address for her.  He already knew what flowers he wanted he just needed his pa to send it and he was grateful to him that he did.  No questions were asked - no curiosity.  Charles did it knowing that it must mean something special if his son was sending flowers to a woman seeing as he didn't send flowers to just anyone.  

He knew he would tell him in due time.

[nothingidputbeforeyou]

Do Not Go Where I Cannot Follow

- fic under the cut, wincest set during early season 3

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/17432360

Evelyn saw the boys first. No surprise, really. Evvie liked to wake up before her sister and take a stroll around the cemetery, clear the cobwebs from her mind. That saying always made her laugh now. It had been one of her favorite sayings in life. In death, it could be taken very literally.

She had finished a full circuit of her final resting place, stepping over fallen stones and through thick weeds that flourished since the last caretaker had retired 30 years back. A full moon sat low in the sky, not fully risen, huge and orange. As she stopped to take it in, a crashing came from the underbrush that grew wild along the old county road. A howl rose up that would have chilled her to her very marrow if she had any marrow left to chill. Not that she was scared of this rueben. He couldn’t even see her let alone hurt her. But that didn’t stop her from getting a few goosepimples at the sounds he made. She saw the monster silhouetted against the moon and clucked her tongue. She’d seen this fellow before, twice in the past two months. He’d taken to hanging out, looking for the teenagers who invariably wound up here daring each other to sit on The Sisters’ Bench or sneak into the mausoleum.

The beast ran within a foot of Evvie, eyes wild not with the usual bloodlust but with a very human fear. Out of the same thicket came two boys. Not boys, really. Men. Big and handsome, both of them. Evvie had only been about 5’4” in life and the taller of the two dwarfed her by a solid foot.

The other one, no Tiny Tim himself, ran by her pistol in hand. “Flank him, Sammy!”

“On it!” The big man put on a burst of speed and caught up with the wolf effectively boxing him in along the side of the old Straker mausoleum. Cornered, the creature snarled and bared its teeth, obviously preparing to launch itself at the neck of the one named Sammy.

“Do it and you’ll be dead before you get one paw on him, fuzzbutt,” the other man’s voice was as cold and hard as the barrel of the gun he had trained on the creature.

It froze for a second as though considering the words then shook off the hesitation and sprang.

A shot rang out, just one, and the thing slumped to the ground, transforming as he fell into a rather nondescript man in his 20s.

“Did you see that, Sam? One shot, right to the heart.”

“Yeah, Dean. I was standing right here.”

“So you saw how awesome I was.”

Sam sighed. “Yep.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say I’m awesome.” The one called Dean was clearly still buzzing with adrenaline, grinning like a madman.

“Fuck off, Dean. I have burrs stuck all over me from those bushes we ran through and I ripped my shirt. I don’t really feel like indulging you right now.”

He was so focused on picking burrs out of his hair that he didn’t see Dean move towards him like quicksilver, sweeping his legs out from under him, bringing both men down to the moss-covered ground. Sam let out a surprised gasp as Dean wound up on top of him, pinning his arms above his head and smiling down at him with the purest expression of love and need she’d ever seen.

Oh, thought Evvie. So that’s how it is.

“Get off me, dick.”

“Make me, Sammy.”

Sam shifted his hips slightly arching up against Dean. Dean’s eyes went wide and frantic. Sam took advantage of Dean’s moment of distraction by wrapping one of those long legs around Dean’s torso and flipping him onto his back.

“Okay, sasquatch. You win. I get it. Let me up.”

Sam pulled himself up and offered a hand to Dean who was a little slower getting to his feet, possibly due to the amount of subtle adjustments he needed to make to his pants.

Just when things were getting interesting.

Dean turned and saw the stone bench that connected Evelyn’s own gravestone to her sister Lydemia’s. He plopped down and developed a sudden interest in retying his shoes probably to hide just how happy certain areas of him had been about the wrestling.

“Dean. Did you seriously not listen to anything I read to you about this place?”

“What? Of course I was listening.”

“Really? Then why did you just sit on The Sisters’ Bench?”

“The what now?”

“That stone thing you parked your cute ass on just now? It’s not just a bench. It connects the graves of two sisters. Lydemia and Evelyn Whitmore. See? Evelyn was younger but she died first in a car accident. The sisters were what people called spinsters. In their 40s, never married, no kids, lived together their whole lives. After Evelyn died in 1949, they say Lydemia killed herself. Couldn’t live without her. The bench says ‘DO NOT GO WHERE I CANNOT FOLLOW’ right here on the edge and if you sit on it during a full moon, the legend says that you won’t be able to get up until morning. Or until the sisters release you.”

“You know that’s probably just one of those legends kids tell each other so they can sneak out here to check it out. Then blah blah blah heavy petting.”

“So why not check it out right now? Try to stand up.”

“Okay but after I show you that I can get up, no problem, I get heavy petting.”

“Hey, I’m fine with that. Are you?” Sam’s eyes held a challenge.

Dean avoided Sam’s gaze and stood. Or tried to. His legs tried valiantly to lift him but his posterior stayed planted right where it was.

“Oh for fucks sake. The ONE TIME a stupid legend is real and we found it.”

“That one Crybaby Bridge out in Washington was real too. Remember?”

“What the hell, Sam. My ass is stuck to a stone bench and you want to reminisce?”

“Just saying. Anyway, no one has ever been hurt on this bench. If they’re dumb enough to sit here during a full moon-” Sam shot a dimpled grin at Dean “-they just stay for awhile. Until they get released or the sun comes up. I’m not sure why the bench lets go of some people early but…”

“Because they’re annoying.” Evelyn’s sister whispered in her ear. “And I don’t want to deal with them for one more second.”

Evvie shivered at the husky timbre of her sister’s voice. “Good evening, Lyddie. Did you sleep well?”

“I did until some four-flusher ran across my grave. Was it these two?”

“No. Or rather yes but only because they were chasing that scoundrel.” Evvie pointed at the dead man lying a few feet away.

“My stars. Would you look at that, Ev. He’s in his birthday suit.”

“I know. But before he was in the all-together, he was wearing a wolf’s skin.”

Lyddie’s dark eyes twinkled behind her cat’s-eye glasses. “That maroon? They got him?? Well, bless their hearts. No more dead teenagers bringing the coppers out here. Guess I should let him up then.”

She moved towards the boys but Evvie snaked out a hand and stopped her, pulling herself up to her full height. Ev might only have been 5’4” but that still gave her 3 inches on her older sister. “DON’T” she yelled.

Lyddie looked taken aback “What’s with you, featherbrain? You want me to leave him stuck there? Why? So you can look at him?” Lydemia’s eyes narrowed as she glared at the man on the bench. “Hmph. A pretty one. You always were a sucker for a pretty face, Evelyn.”

“I went on ONE DATE with Burdette, Lyd. ONE. You KNOW that.”

“”I do know that, Evelyn. Because he was killed in that tragic accident shortly thereafter.”

“You dropped a tractor on him. Some accident.”

“He tried to force himself on you! It’s hardly my fault that when I went out there with daddy’s old shotgun to have a little talk about his behavior, he was working on his tractor, got spooked by the gun, and kicked the jack out.”

“I’m sorry. I feel bad for bringing that up again. I know you’d never...”

“No, I definitely would have dropped a tractor on him but the good lord and Bud’s own stupidity beat me to it. Anyway. If it’s not the view, why don’t want me to let this one go?”

“Oh. Yes. Because they seem to have a few issues that they don’t want to discuss. Maybe a few hours trapped here will cure them.”

“Issues?” A confused look crossed Lyddie’s lovely face.

“I think they’re..well. A little lavender, if you will? And maybe they’re having a problem dealing with it?”

“Oh please, Ev. It’s the 2000s. Plenty of people are gay, even way out here in the middle of nowhere. We’ve seen that much with our own eyes.” she smiled at her sister mischievously. They both enjoyed watching the couples who came here to neck and it didn’t matter what gender those people happened to be. It all broke up the monotony and passed the time.

“Maybe so but something isn’t right. They’re obviously in love but they’re holding back, refusing to talk about it. A little push might be in order.”

Lyddie turned back to where Dean sat on the bench still trying to pull himself to his feet. Sam looked on, clearly amused by his plight. “Great idea, love.”

She disappeared in a blink and while Evvie watched, Sam spun around startled before sitting down hard on the bench next to Dean.

“Lyd! I didn’t mean you should push him!!”

Lyddie reappeared at Ev’s side. “Really? Whoops.” She winked at her sister in a way Evelyn had never been able to resist and Evvie found herself laughing.

On the bench, Dean turned to Sam “What just happened?”

“It felt like someone spun me around and then pushed me.”

“That’s what you get.” he said petulantly.

Sam looked out at the graveyard thoughtfully. “Guess the sisters really are hanging around.”

“If that’s the case, they clearly like me better. I do love ladies with discriminating taste.”

Sam’s snort was scornful. “Like you care.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Need me to spell it out? Okay. You love pretty much any woman who so much as glances your way.”

“Are you calling me a slut, Sammy?”

“If the boots-with-2-inch-platform-heels-that-you-wear-so-you-won’t-look-way-shorter-than-me fit…”

Dean’s face was mutinous but he clamped his jaw shut..

“Well, there’s your answer, Ev,” Lyddie said quietly. “Dean can’t keep his willy in his pants. Sam’s mad about it. That’s not something a good gabfest is going to fix.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Feels like there’s more to it.”  She turned her eyes back to the boys. Dean was regarding Sam with an earnestness that clutched at her heart.

“Look, Sam...you know we can’t do this. You know why we can’t do it. So what...I’m supposed to be a monk? Can’t have sex with you, can’t have sex with anybody ever?”

“Who said you can’t have sex with me? You can! Hell, you HAVE.”

Evvie’s eyes were glued to the boys as Lyddie pinched her arm with glee and whispered, “I am so sorry I ever doubted your motives for keeping them here. This is good.”

“One time.” Dean looked furious. “One slip in all this time. And you DIED not long after that. I think that’s the universe sending me a pretty clear message, don’t you?”

“I didn’t die because we had sex, you idiot. I died because I got stabbed... Wait a minute. Is that what you think? That I got killed to...what? Punish you for fucking your brother?”

The two spirits observing gasped in perfect sync.

“Sam died?” said Evvie just as Lyddie said “They’re brothers?”

“Dean. I died because of the demon. And Jake. And mom’s deal. And a thousand other little things that led up to that day. Having sex with you? Not one of those things. It’s not connected. You know that, right?”

Dean refused to meet his eyes so Sam reached out, physically turned Dean’s head his way. “Do you know that, Dean?” Sam’s voice was barely a whisper now and Dean leaned towards his brother, maybe to hear him better, maybe not. Maybe it was a gravitational force pulling them together from the moon, from the bench, from their hearts. Who could tell?

“Can I pop up and push their heads together, Evvie? Please?”

“What? No.”

“If you let me, I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

“You know what? Fine. No popping though. You’ll ruin the mood. Just a gentle shove.”

“Poo. You’re such a stick in the mud.”

Lyddie disappeared again but this time Ev could see her outline against the boys. She was reaching out to make them kiss when they finally caught a clue and did it themselves.

“Ahh,” Evvie let out a happy sigh. “True love.”

Suddenly back at her side, Lyddie laughed and grabbed Ev’s hand. “Nothing like it.”

“Nothing.” She leaned in and kissed her sister softly.

“Hey, Ev?” Lyddie murmured a while later.

“Now you’re ruining this mood, Lydemia! For heaven’s sake, what is it?”

“I never let them up.”

“What...oh goodness. I guess you’d better…” she looked past her sister’s form at the two men twined together on the bench and smiled.

“No. They’re doing fine. It’ll be morning in another hour anyway. And I have plans for you before then, dear sister.” Evvie grabbed Lyd’s hand and pulled her away. She looked back and was surprised to see Sam staring directly at her. He could obviously see her. Which meant he knew exactly what had transpired here. She smiled and gave a small wave. He grinned back, dimples in full force and mouthed “Thank you.”  

[floggingink]

bitch I bet you thought I’d forgotten about Riverdale, “Chapter Thirty-Seven: Fortune and Men’s Eyes”

I absolutely agree with Archie’s wild careening off the side of the road of justice to plead guilty to a crime he “may as well have” committed. I couldn’t believe Archie was so preposterously on the money about himself: “I didn’t kill anyone, but I could have.” GOOD, ARCHIE. I love Juvie Archie. better than Fascist Archie!!!!

I didn’t google “prison powder” to see if that shit’s soap or for lice or what but y’all’ll fill me in on that won’t you

“Leopold and Loeb” is just the level of allusory on-brand naming hubris I demand

“Captain Golightly” doesn’t seem to be a reference to anything other than a brutal dichotomy between whimsy and a dictatorial prison state

you know they hit us up with that Pop’s lighting not even at Pop’s! I never met a window I didn’t want to have bathe me in God’s light!

Sixth period is Intro to Film: the cross stitch quote on the warden’s wall, which I assume dude’s wife made for him because he and she adhere to traditional gender roles, is of course from Sonnet 29, referenced in the title to a play and 70’s movie very much about sexual slavery in prison (Archie has not seen it)

Day One at Juvie Coif: very good, uplifted, touchable but held fast

they really did the line-up of the Hot Dads of Riverdale right there: Tom seems to be eating pancakes and bacon, and FP is wearing a scarf like a headband but like a necklace

Fred’s flannel is an interesting mix of colors like, for a flannel, and Veronica appears to be wearing subtle yellow eyeshadow to go with her waitress dress

when were we going to hear about the three perjuring thugs? who corroborated Archie’s false confession???? cold

“Shadow County” is the third county in “Riverdale State��

The Blossom spawn: Dr. Patel seems to be the Cooper family GP with specialities in both obstetrics and neurology; Betty is still wearing her hospital bracelet

I never noticed the teensy blackboard under Alice’s kitchen cabinets; the Coopers are truly peak bourgeois chic

Polly’s itty bitty lace headband is good and the Farm has done wonders for her and Alice’s accessory game

Betty’s body language at “Uh...because I saw you and mom throw the twins on a fucking fire” is very funny (Betty has not told a joke yet)

Dilton Doiley is a canonically great dancer: RIP!!!!!!

I want to get out of the way that for some reason Jughead looks really good throughout this episode. I can’t explain why, maybe it’s because he’s finally wearing plaid again, but he looks good. if you thought he looked good in the first place, he’s back

is Betty wearing her Carrie: the Musical outfit?

last week I misheard Dilton and thought he said “Cardinal King,” and I was like, What? and then it got even better

Places Bughead are Fucking: the Blue & Gold office

Archie > Dawson: God bless Archie but he does try to be personable with Mad Dog right away, unleashing one of his legendary “bros.” how old were you when you realized you couldn’t do a pull-up? I’ve never done a pull-up in my goddamn life and certainly not to a vinyl of a piano sonata

Mad Dog (I just wrote “God,” because I guess he’s that beautiful) has approximately 100 cigarettes, which he certainly does not smoke, so he is hoarding them for some grand purpose?

when Mad Dog turned around I swear I saw muscles I didn’t know the human body possessed. I’m talking fresh-out-of-the-science-tube Steve Rogers

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Mad Dog’s impeccably maintained fade

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: Josie has the right attitude about LBJ and Vietnam, except I think JFK got us into Vietnam, but then the Gulf of Tonkin was LBJ. I don’t want to google the Vietnam War. look, McNamara is a war criminal

Cheryl’s sheaths: I wish I had the energy to coordinate my bras with the rest of my aesthetic like Josie, in a leopard print, and Cheryl, in red lace. I will say I have recently discovered unlined bras and they have changed me for the better

do you think Archie + varsity football + theater extracurriculars = Cheryl + student body president + 4.0 GPA + theater extracurriculars?

Serpent with the General-style opthalmic frames and low-rise Chucks intrigues me

Joaquin does Archie so bad!!!!!!! even after he got the fucking tattoo, damn!

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: Joaquin’s eyes are so crystal clear that I don’t think they have a color of their own. he’s wearing the optional grey shirt, so they look grey; if he wore the optional navy shirt (I can’t yet tell a difference in status) they would look blue

oh god, what is that Ghoulie doing at the fucking fence? is he slicing his fingertips for fun? what the fuck, the Ghoulies are so fucking bizarre

Archie calls Joaquin “bro” which means he is fucking serious

we all need to take a moment to ourselves to truly absorb the skull of Dr. Curdle’s son, who is also a corrupt coroner (his name tag says “Dr. Curdle Jr”). of the three most alien skulls so far, this is the most take-abacking (I HAVE seen every episode and my calculations are sound)

he’s really gonna let Dilton (RIP!!!!!) have his arm hang down off the table like that, in this, his final repose? cold

the almost ironic intonation of “signs….of stress….” as he pulls the sheet down is amazingly 50’s horror movie

“Runic, I’d say.”

mmmmmmmmmm Fresh-Aid! I listened to the Jonestown tape in an episode of Last Podcast and was well disturbed!!!!!

you tell me why Jughead is using the camera he used in the pilot instead of like, his phone camera: because Jughead?

because Jughead

Places Bughead are Fucking: coroner’s Office

I want one of these L & L shirts. I would prefer the navy version with the little sleeves

excuse me but one of these Ghoulies has an absolute 2008 sidebang

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: “DON’T TOUCH HIS FACE”

Veronica’s flower sweater

BEN BUTTON

Betty’s 70’s-collared Piet Mondrian shirt is super cute, although a white-backed women’s shirt with that thin Forever 21 fabric always fucks you if you have to wear a bra

the actress who plays Evelyn Evernever is named Zoé de Grand Maison and honestly I don’t know who has the better name

DOES KEVIN STILL WANT TO LOSE HIS VIRGINITY BY HALLOWEEN

if homecoming is in September or October, the schedule should be roughly 1) Archie gets out of juvie, followed by 2) Kevin loses his virginity with Moose

Gay.: Kevin’s kiss is VERY good and quite bold! for a hallway, and Moose’s twangy hair is nice

at my high school, everyone just said “rot-see” for ROTC, so surely these hip kids wouldn’t go around saying R-R-O-T-C like that, UNREALISTIC, RIVERDALE

the extremely tall gothy Vixen is even taller than the extremely tall Ghoulie and I would like to take her to homecoming

Summer + Blair = Veronica: “You’re acting like trash, and I don’t want to get a citation.”

what the hell does student body president even do? to the extent I can even recall our student body president, whose name I believe was Lauren, I think she read the afternoon announcements

Ben WAS the kid Kevin ordered that hot dog from during the James Dean closing night! (I’m not double-checking)

Ben WAS the kid Miss Grundy was ~grooming~ when she got merked!

Ben’s mom is such a boring white mom lady that she’s wearing a denim button-down with but a single flower appliqué

YOU KNOW I LOVED THAT BLAIR WITCH TWIG BABY

Officer Henderson WAS the cop who found the “HL” briefcase at the dead Serpent’s hotel room!

I looked into what starting a chapter of the Innocence Project entails for a “couple of minutes.” I assume Veronica is going to go with option one: nonprofit organization, “independently incorporated” with “its own governing board” and fundraising, as I would doubt Riverdale has a local law school or much of a public defender’s office, you know what I’m saying?

What damn high school in America: Veronica is wearing some high-waisted black slacks and quite the polka dot top, which may in fact simply be a bustier. I imagine Principal Weatherbee has battled so many times over the years with Cheryl, who is constantly toeing the line of what a 16-year-old can legally wear, that he has since given up entirely

Jughead crawling over the back of the couch and dangling the totem baby is such a throwback to Jughead crawling over the back of the diner booth and eating the whipped cream cherry that now they are simply teasing me with the grandeur of times gone by, like an Andy Williams Christmas song thrown up on 101.9 KINK

Ethel has on some sort of wicked pin but it’s not in focus!

Betty’s top is very cute, structured

everyone has their own “Yeah, I guess” face at “Dilton Doiley [RIP!!!!!!!] has a secret bunker in the woods?”

Jughead cooly threatens Ethel with quote-unquote telling the police; this of course calls back to Jughead threatening Dilton (RIP!!!!!) in the third episode with Sheriff Keller, but let me ask you this: if Betty & Jughead DID take Ethel to the sheriff, would Sheriff Minetta give a flying fuck? doesn’t he answer directly to Hiram on all things Jughead at this point? could Betty and Jughead POSSIBLY still imagine the cops will heed anything they bring them?

Sheriff Minetta: Jughead Jones now seems to be under the impression that a band of Riverdale High juniors are in an underground RPG cult that has led to a double-suicide

Hiram: Thank God

something about Jughead’s teensy Yes’m head nod is just enough like a chivalrous bow that I have thus taken the time to note how cute it is

Day Two Juvie Coif: visibly succumbing to stress, but with dignity; starting to feather

I don’t know anything about sneakers but I like Mad Dog’s hightops

the cinematography in Archie’s cell is great. I especially like the panning around Archie when he’s not even moving, just listening to Mad Dog talking about, “The moment you set foot in here,” etc.

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: FP AND ALICE BOOOOOIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!! missing is the implied scene where Alice called FP to “get over here” so they can “talk to our kids” “together”

50 Shades of Betty: Betty tries hard to communicate with only her left eyebrow, fails

am I imagining a callback to Alice assuming Jughead was the one who railroaded Betty into looking at Jason Blossom? Alice’s stance on Jughead is too exhausting to track

Alice is certainly wearing a sheer floral peasant blouse she would NOT have worn the previous two seasons, SUSPICIOUS

Places Bughead are Not Fucking: Betty’s room

Gay?!: Archie’s incredulous delight at Reggie having helped picked out his RHS-themed sneakers; the Bulldogs are all about that #threestripelife

Veronica was rich: “FRESH KICKS”

Moose is apparently a “straight beast,” if you will

one of these Serpents is holding two playing cards, just chilling and holding two playing cards. I hope his prison name is like SNAKE EYES or THE JOKER

that Ghoulie dude is so striking and elongated, I swear to God he looks like John Travolta in Grease. that undercut, the well-oiled curls on top? can he be Josie’s fall fling?

God bless jingle-jangle: can you DROP OUT of fourth grade? doesn’t the state come for you, what the fuck?

I unironically love Archie’s plan. I fucking love it

“YOU’VE NEVER KNOWN THE EPIC HIGHS AND LOWS”—ARCHIE—YOU’RE A FUCKING SAVANT

I’m looking for other good haircuts in the background. one dude has a solid Wakanda-era Bucky Barnes and there’re slicked up curls aplenty. this juvie is like a candy box

you know this bitch loves a rack focus, especially onto prison wardens

Please protect Betty: “It’s chamomile, Betty. Calm down.”

FREAKISHLY good micromoment of Alice just like wiping away an eyelash or something

aloud, with witnesses, I said “This is like when they first held hands, am I right?” and then Betty said the “kind of reminds me of when we first started dating,” just to prove to you I HAVE seen every episode

Betty calmly checking in with Jughead re: Satan’s Reindeer

he’s most certainly Ethel on stilts (I’m very bad at predicting), but I love the Gargoyle King. he’s just the right mix of she-puts-you-in-the-corner and herky-jerky T-Rex, plus she put paint on him or whatever, in case somebody put a flashlight beam on him? Ethel fucking Muggs or whoever

love the sexy noir diner lighting and I will die loving it

Jughead eats: a toothpick

Day Three Juvie Coif: back at it, flush with victory; firm and wavy

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: I do wish Cheryl were not so permanently a good guy. I wish she wanted to be Student Body President, all of a sudden, so badly that she was trying to keep Archie in juvie so he could never reclaim his throne, like if she were Scar

Kevin’s magenta polo has a subtle wave print

I hope the RROTC is somehow rotting from the inside, like the Adventure Scouts or Aquaholics

The female gaze: Archie’s cranking out push-ups and Mad Dog is doing tricep dips to warm up, for the game and “other business,” respectively. sometimes I like to do tricep dips too, usually for forty-five seconds while I’m waiting for the microwave to reheat my Kraft Thick N’ Creamy

Archie’s “What the hell are you to him?” is maybe his most astute query into something not being right that doesn’t include his remarkable quickness on the uptake of Jughead at the end of season one (I HAVE seen every episode)

These students are legally children: what the fuck did Mad Dog do that he’s been sentenced to like 25 years in prison? he’s a minor for God’s sake. get on this, Veronica

Places Bughead are Fucking: the fucking woods

catch me hightailing it the fuck out of there when Betty and Jughead do anything that even remotely resembles opening a circular hatch to ANYTHING out in a fucking forest clearing and peering down inside. BYE BITCHES YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN!!!!!

someone in the writer’s room at even only one point said the phrase “like in True Detective” while unspooling this yarn

Fifth period is AP English: I have to take Jughead’s word for it that there’re any bunkers in any Philip K. Dick novel

I am STILL salty that the Swords & Serpents thing IS NOT THE SAME THING as THIS RPG and that it was wholly abandoned. I can’t believe we’re not doing Jughead being sucked into the RPG cult and Betty have to haul him out SIMULTANEOUSLY with her mother being sucked into the postpartum cult and having to haul HER out

“He’s also featured prominently on this copper coin.”

y’all can just buy cyanide like that, in that glass growler? it has a “reliable prescription” sticker on it, WTF?

“Drink from the correct cup and ascend to the kingdom” is definitely ripped from one of the tracks on that Avenged Sevenfold album I bought at Borders freshman year

Jughead doubts it: “OR SOMETHING EVEN MORE INSIDIOUS”

I fucking knew that Adventure Scout was gonna be under that fucking cot but it still scared the crap out of me because The Haunting of Hill House exhausted my reserves

I’m going to come out and say that I’ve never cared for Charmed and I’m not watching the reboot. however I am exceedingly ready for Sabrina

“Princess Etheline”

guys, I found the “Jailhouse Rock” dance charming, especially the implication that the boys started the game up again in the middle to like, show off for the girls. am I getting soft in my old age?

Josie’s VERY bright blue eyeshadow

Cheryl’s hair: Cheryl had to have been influenced by the trend started pre-2012 in So You Think You Can Dance wherein dancers with very long hair just leave it down

Hiram…..Archie’s in jail. what else do you want? like, he’s IN JUVIE

am I out of my fucking mind or is Hiram wearing a pin that is PSYCHOTICALLY close to being the Hydra hydra?

Archie overtaking the first few guards with those slow-mo crosses until they finally beat him down by their sheer numbers was basically a scene from Spartacus: War of the Damned

Betty’s bug print is cute while being, subconsciously, slightly unsettling; this is true for Betty as a whole

Ethel’s mustard yellow cotton cardigan has some sort of flower print on its back? COOL

I would like to extend a hearty “fuck off with that for fucking me” to whoever blocked out seizing-Ethel whipping her arm up like that with her jacked hand JUST LIKE IN HEREDITARY. FUCK OFF!, and I mean it

“Damn good coffee”: Evelyn has just the sort of niche superpower I wish I could have: to fuck with other people’s social interactions from a casual remove

Jughead is remarkably polite with 911, much calmer than with the desk nurse after Fangs got shot (I HAVE seen every episode)

(Hereditary was much better than Hill House)

Best costume bit: Monica Posh is hot

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: Kevin wants that dick SO BADLY that he has JOINED THE ARMY (or whatever)

how did Pop’s lighting manage to glide all the way over to L&L?

Day Four Juvie Coif: slept on but still truckin’

Archie can only be fucking imagining what is about to happen to him (Archie has definitely seen Fight Club, and Jughead had to explain how it was satire)

Certified pedigree: LEGENDARY SQUAD OF PARENTS!!!!!! Hermione’s getting the band back together à la It

Penelope Blossom has gone full Victorian goth in that floor-length lace Chicago black widow number

“At the mere mention of ‘blue lips,’” Jughead wrote, “a shiver frissoned around the room.”

you can tell Alice is in a hippie cult because not only is she wearing crystals but she has stopped wearing eye makeup (I could never be in this sort of cult because if I don’t smear kohl all over them I look like I have tiny eyes; I am sensitive about this)

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: the reveal of Ben in the window, bathed in the blue glow of Pop’s diner, was like, ~chills~

“You’ll fly too” is of course also It, which, FUCK OFF

NEXT WEEK: I could be very fucking wrong about this but FP has a tattoo on his left pec that may very well be of a jellybean

[yverest-22]

i was tagged by @rii-chann tagging: i don't know anyone here so... name: evelyn age: 21 height: 5'2 (I'm taller than @rii-chann so U GUESSED WRONG) zodiac sign: virgo sun, pisces moon, sagitario rising where do you call home: when I don't feel like dying every place I am is my home uwu any tattoos or piercings: 5 ear piercings (4 orifices in one earlobe), one eyebrow piercing and 24 tattoos. last song you listened to: 3am by Halsey last movie you watched: Encanto (with my mum) (she's not an encanto at all) last book or fanfic you read: The way you used to do by Edema_ruh (AO3) do you collect anything: pothos, rocks, long scarfs, old coins, a lot of things uwu morning person or night owl: i'm a night owl bc overstimulation and anxiety, but I LOVE SUNNY MORNINGS with coffee and books to read and fresh air uwuwuwuw (nights are so peaceful so... I could say both) are you an optimist, a pessimist or a realist: optimist to everyone, pessimist to myself. But I'm trying to get better uwu a quote you live by: I don't know nor care who said it first, but I feel warm with this one:

"Exist, loudly"

are you an introvert, an extrovert or an ambivert: I'm like... a shy extrovert? like, I will talk if I have to, I love to answer questions in classroom, I like to talk with classmates and ppl in certain ambients but I GET REALLY SHY SOMETIMES AND I CANNOT LOOK IN THE EYES, IT GET WORSE IF THE PERSON IS ATRACTIVE TO ME im fucking cocky and love to think myself as the center of attention until i am the center of that shit and HATE IT so maybe I'm not an introvert, an extrovert or an ambivert, I'm just dumb as fuck and just need to get my shit together. do you believe in the afterlife or not: i believe that this question will get me another night without sleep. thanks a weird or fun fact about yourself: I have a tattoo with the lyric of one song I LOVE, it's in korean. I forgot to erase one of the who-sing-this-part keys and now I have my favorite song + the names of the artists singing that part (Suga, Jimin, I love to have you in my skin) if you could have coffee with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be: humm... maybe with Min Yoongi. Bc I would love to ask him some things and listen to him ranting and telling him that he changed my life and im grateful for that, I love that guy (I could say Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin or Kim Taehyung, because I DREAM TOO MANNY TIMES ABOUT CRASHING INTO TAEHYUNG OUTSIDE SOME PLACE AND JUST BURSTING IN TEARS TELLING HIM THAT I LOVE SOME LYRICS OR I ADMIRE SOMETHING HE SAID ETC but they feel too intimidating to me and I cant imagine myself talking to them omg i could cry if they look at me and i say something wrong and they just "🤨🤔😑😐😒🙁" OH GOD WHAT A NIGHTMARE)