#I just know enough to recognize that Betty's worries about whether or not she is evil

[arsenicpanda]

Someone needs to write the essay on Betty Cooper, the sins of the father, generational cycles, serial killer genes, and Calvinism

[misscammiedawn]

DID Representation in The Incredible Hulk (Part 2)

Continuing on from Part 1 in which I explained the background of the Banner System I wanted to discuss the marriage between Bruce Banner and Betty Talbot Ross-Banner and break down relationships between systems and singlets.

This is a topic that is tackled often in media and one that could be its own topic of focus within DID representation.

Some may have a complicated love triangle where a singlet is in love with two members of a system or have dynamics where members of a system love different partners and even stories involving introjects of loved ones who are treated as living memories.

The romance tropes and "split personality" tropes really do go hand in hand and for the most part those stories are not what I would consider DID representation as the trope exists to facilitate the story. The drama is often sourced from at least one party in the situation not understanding or consenting to the dynamics of the plurality at play or a member of a system attempting to actively sabotage the relationship.

Where I would start considering it moving out of trope territory and into representation territory is when the condition is treated as part of the reality of being in a relationship and something which has to be navigated as surely as any other life circumstance.

Today I'm going to talk about the romance in Hulk comics. Particularly surrounding the relationship between Joe Fixit and Betty Ross.

Since the very first issues in 1962 Betty Ross has known the man she was in love with was both Bruce Banner and Hulk. Bruce's DID may have been a curveball thrown at her down the line, as mentioned in part 1 it was not codified until the mid-80s, but it was never a secret. In the previous part of this essay I noted that Bruce did not have the strength within himself to accept his condition and he was emotionally distant and ran away from the people who loved him.

Bruce has the option of not dealing with his condition. Betty does not.

Hulk is a rare comic where it shows a hyperbolic reality of engaging in a relationship with someone who has a dissociative disorder. Betty and Banner do not have a good marriage. They show a lot of red flags, some more worrying than others. But they deal with those issues and thus they display them on the page well enough to have a conversation about it.

And that's why I wanted to highlight it.

Immortal Hulk #48 (Al Ewing - 2021)

In this issue Betty and Joe have just had a passion fueled reunion that lead to them enjoying some private time in a hotel room. The circumstances are complicated but she had walked out on Bruce earlier in the story. Betty has been trying to show him the imperfections in herself (physically represented by her Red Harpy form) and Bruce has been refusing to engage with the "monster" in the place of his wife.

Gamma tends to make physical that which lays under the surface. When Bruce looks away from Red Harpy he is truly looking away from viewing his wife as anything other than perfect.

Towards the end of the Immortal Hulk storyline Betty returned to the plot and found that Bruce was still "hiding" from her so she got close to Joe instead and the two proceed to have an adult conversation about their broken marriage and just where Joe fits in with it.

We'll cover Immortal Hulk 48 in more detail a little more later. It's one of my favorite comics of all time.

But before I continue I want to point out Joe and Betty's disagreement on whether this is cheating or not. "You married Banner" "You're a part of him" to paraphrase.

Relationship dynamics with systems come in a variety of different shapes and sizes. In writing this essay I have no intention of stating any version is better or worse than another and I recognize that different circumstances have different needs.

Many of my friends who I know from support communities hold Joe's view. That individual alters have the agency to consent to be included in relationships with the system or not. Others hold Betty's view, that to be in love with the system is to be in love with every part of the person, regardless of whether they were present enough to consent at the time the relationship began.

I am in Betty's camp. Some of my closest friends with DID are in Joe's. There are other camps. But there is one thing that I have seen discussed in every single support group I've been part of and it's that members of the system dating outside of a monogamous relationship without explicit consent is and will always be cheating. Emphasis on communication and consent.

Incredible Hulk 376 (Peter David - 1990)

I am polyamorous and our system considers all of us in each relationship, even if we understand that this ideal is not exactly easily integrated into a relationship. I'll not peel back the curtain but there's a lot of inner and external management that goes into that conceit. One of our partners explicitly has a relationship with all 5 of us, our other partners have a relationship with "us" that is less concerned about individual dynamics and neither version of this scenario is preferred over the other. Every relationship is different. Even if one of those relationships contains 5. Like everything with being in treatment, it's about being flexible, understanding, compromising and accommodating.

As noted above, Joe does not consider himself to be Bruce and so he does not feel like he has to honor Bruce's marriage. In the 80s run when Joe gains his name and acts as a Las Vegas enforcer he has a romance with a young woman named Marlo Chandler. Regretfully she is not overtly mentioned in Immortal Hulk #48 though Betty does bring up that Joe had a whole life in Vegas that he had hidden away from her. Marlo was part of that life.

In the tail end of the Vegas arc of comics Betty returns to Bruce's life after thinking him dead for over 6 months. Marlo shows up and is surprised to see Bruce, someone she was told was Joe's brother. Joe and Marlo's relationship was formed while Bruce was dormant and after he returned the cover story was that Bruce Bancroft was Joe Fixit's brother. Joe does not consider himself to be Bruce and so does not honor his marriage. As you see in the above page, everyone else involved does not see it the same way.

A highlight from this era is a few issues earlier where Betty and Joe have their first adult discussion. It's an absolute classic comic and is directly referenced in Immortal Hulk #48. Betty and Joe have great energy together and trust one another, though Joe fears her as the system's attachment to her leaves them feeling vulnerable and lowers the walls between alters. It's a shame that this was 4 issues before the forced fusion. I'd have loved to have seen more interactions between the pair.

Incredible Hulk #373 (Peter David - 1990)

Sidenote that issue has my favorite Hulk cover of all time.

They don't have a lot of time together but Betty and Joe had great chemistry in these comics, especially when compared to how Bruce treats her. The following pages are both from the same issue:

Incredible Hulk #374 (Peter David - 1990)

Bruce does love Betty but he hates himself more than he loves her and she long has to deal with him putting up walls and keeping a distance. Where Banner fears the "monster" he becomes, in no canon does Betty ever fear any incarnation of Hulk.

She does however resent being coddled. Her father was overly protective of her because her mother died, her first husband, Glenn Talbot, was overly protective of her and now Bruce has picked up that sin. She hates being treated as helpless.

For sake of clarity and addressing the "early installment weirdness" I'll note that it wasn't until Byrne's run in the 80s that Betty gained a backbone. During the 80s period of comics Byrne and David codified her as a fierce and strong-willed woman and that characterization has remained with her ever since.

The reason Bruce is so temperamental about the woman he loves and why all the Hulk's, even Devil, are typically so good to her is...

Well...

Incredible Hulk #377 (Peter David - 1991)

I'll let that speak for itself.

The Vegas arc is not the only time that Bruce has seemingly died and been content to let his wife think he is deceased.

Bruce's emotional distance from Betty is another all too real depiction of traumatized adults who are not managing their symptoms. Trauma in all forms remains with a person and steers their behavior. In the extreme this can lead to phobias and mildly it can lead to avoidance.

Bruce is constantly driven to avoid pain. He is depressed, self-loathing and withdrawn and no matter how much he pulls away he is unable to secure for himself a sense of comfort and security. When he withdraws from his wife he is indulging in a maladaptive coping mechanism that tells him that he will be hurt if he gets closer to her.

A quote from Bruce in Immortal Hulk #14 "Betty... I know. I should have... called someone. But I--I wasn't ready. It's like I knew that in my gut. I couldn't face it. I've learned to trust feelings like that. They protect me."

Joe, who is emotionally removed from the source of their trauma, does not live in terror of the memories that haunt the rest of the system. Bruce may have repressed memories of his father's worst deeds (and the fact that he, himself, murdered the man) but he still feels the terror that is attached to love.

Devil overtly spells it out during the Immortal Hulk storyline by saying "Deep down inside. He's still that kid. A little kid who can't imagine love without pain." which is sadly an all too true reality for many suffering with DID. We don't need to be child alters to still be eternally living through events that happened decades ago.

In the Immortal Hulk storyline Bruce spent months estranged from her and when he got back to her she ended up caught in crossfire and died herself, only to awaken the gamma in her blood and be resurrected as Red Harpy.

There's a lot of Comics stuff there about Betty's mutate forms (Harpy and Red She-Hulk) and how gamma mutation is psychological in how it presents. All that is needed to be known is that Betty simmers with a silent fury. She has been treated as a trophy her entire life, protected and sheltered by her military general father, all but traded as a dowry to one of her father's loyal men, Glenn Talbot, and then long suffering as Bruce Banner's wife.

Even her Red She-Hulk form was forcibly taken away against her wishes by Bruce "for her own good".

Immortal Hulk #14 (Al Ewing - 2019)

For this reason after she is killed again, her latest gamma mutation draws out a feathered and fanged harpy, something she entirely identifies as with no shame, represented by her instant and intentional transformations between forms. Her catchphrase is "this is ME."

Bruce cannot accept this is the person he married. Joe actively admires and encourages her self-acceptance.

Here's a page where Bruce escapes from a conversation that he himself initiated because he cannot stand to face an imperfect version of Betty:

Immortal Hulk #22 (Al Ewing - 2019)

This all comes to a head when Betty approaches Joe and asks to speak to her husband and after switching out, Bruce feels cornered enough to lash out and demand to speak to his wife. Betty, realizing Bruce will never accept this side of her leaves.

Which brings us back to the hotel room after she reunites with Joe.

The argument breaks out when Betty scornfully notes that if Bruce objected to them being together then he should come out and say it himself, knowing full well that he will continue withdrawing and hiding from her.

Joe admits that Bruce isn't there because he's in hell. There's a very long and interesting explanation to that which is entirely literal.

But the point is that he allowed their reunion and passionate evening to persist without saying that. It clues Betty in to the fact that Joe may be better at hiding it and may be better at smooth talking than the system's host is but he is just as avoidant.

She does not take it well.

Immortal Hulk #48 (Al Ewing - 2021)

But here's the part that really solidifies these two as a pair of grown-ups.

Joe admits to his fuck-up, offers some additional vulnerability (Betty herself refuses to believe Joe is capable of vulnerability and lashes out at him for attempting to emotionally manipulate her) by confessing to his origins as a child's idea of a man.

The little bits of truth about the condition that spill out during this conversation truly show how much empathy Ewing put into depicting DID as accurately as he could for a comic about world breaking atomic beasts. "If I wanted to lie, I coulda said I didn't remember. We usually don't" and "I... we, All of us. The whole damn system... We're messed up" are lines which feel like they could come up during a conversation on these topics.

I cannot even tally the amount of guilt we feel in discussions where we know our brain should be retaining the information and that we want to remember and be clear but we can't. The hardest part is to not just lean on the condition as an excuse or out for many of the valid discussions that come up when navigating a relationship.

At the end of the day the only way to manage these troubled waters is with trust and communication, same as any other relationship.

Joe gives that a try, even.

Immortal Hulk #48 (Al Ewing - 2021)

DID is a hidden illness. It's denial disease. It is sourced from a level of emotional agony that is too present, too constant and too inescapable. It's why, until the age of the internet where ability to recognize symptoms without medical guidance due to knowledge and resources being widespread, the average age of diagnosis is 30 despite symptoms being prevalent from childhood.

Relationships with disordered systems are difficult. When an adult has a trauma response that causes them to dissociate, hide and reject sources of pain and conflict they will inevitably fail to communicate and cause additional friction in a relationship.

Joe here makes his absolute best attempt to bridge that gap. He accepts his failings. Admits fault and attempts to communicate with honesty and vulnerability.

I do not know where Banner/Ross' marriage will go in the future. There's a lot of hurt there. It won't be smoothed over with a single conversation. It won't be healed until Bruce is able to be present in the conversation.

But my heavens this is the most mature discussion I have ever seen on the topic in fiction. Bruce is the personification of the phrase "Hurt people hurt people.", he doesn't mean it. None of the system truly means it (well... sometimes they mean it. They have anger issues after all) but they want to try and be better. Joe does, anyway.

And the sad fact is that sometimes that can be too little, too late.

Betty leaves after the above page. A hopeful person can claim that she was summoned by Dr. Strange's magical call for champions but it doesn't matter. She decides she has seen everything the Banner System has to offer and needs some time for herself.

I look forward to seeing if we ever get a follow-up to this. It's been 2/3 years.

And that brings me to the end of this little detour.

I'll likely be back with more Hulk talk in the future. There are a lot of storylines to cover. But for now, thank you for reading my little squee on this particular comic book relationship. It means a great deal to me.

If you enjoyed my little ramble about DID representation please consider checking out my Media, Myself and I tag. Otherwise, thank you for reading.

Oh and buy Immortal Hulk. It's legitimately one of the best comic runs of all time.

[spideyanakin]

Far From Home - Part 3

Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis; Coming from another reality yourself, what will happen when you see straight through the lies of the mysterious Quentin Beck.

Series Masterlist 🍒

Normal Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️

So much for Peter's Eiffel tower plan, Nick Fury had decided to change Peter's wish of staying on the down-low and highjack your summer vacation. The morning was dusted in a cold mist between you and Peter that didn't go unnoticed to Ned and Betty.

"You should talk to her dude," Ned said as the silence between the two boys became too dominant.

"No." Peter shook his head. "I don't know what to say, and I don't want to make things worst, we'll just... go to Paris, and I'll apologize." He smiled like nothing was wrong, the sight of you talking with Brad in the distance becoming unbearable to Peter.

As Peter tugged onto his suitcase trying to get to the van that would lead them to the airport, his face fell as he was met with Nick Fury's jet black bus, Dimitri standing right in front.

Peter watched anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach as Brad helped you securely store your suitcase in the compartment of the bus.

"Thanks, Brad." You smiled secretly eyeing Peter from a distance as you pressed a quick kiss to Brad's cheek liking the way Peter's face fell.

"No problem Y/n/n." Brad's face painted with a large smug as he turned around flipping Peter off as you already had your back turned and entered the bus.

~

"Brad could you hand me my bag please?" you asked making sure you were loud enough for Peter to hear, happy that jealousy was rising in him.

"Of course." He smiled as he grabbed your bag that had rolled down the alley after a few bumps on the road.

"Thanks, you're the best!" You smiled before leaning back in your chair, plugging your headphones before he could even say a word back, closing your eyes and getting lost in a long train of thoughts about Peter.

The quick stop made you jet wide awake. You grumbled something as you fixed your sweater putting your shoes back before standing up and walking out, Dimitri pointing to the building in front.

"Wait so Fury wants us to fight?" A few seconds later you were standing in an old building in the middle of the road, Peter sheepishly standing in front of you. Fury wanted you to fight against those elementals, your anger bubbled inside you waiting to explode.

The lady didn't seem to talk much as she handed you the suit again, confirming the fight in Prague.

"Im not changing in front of him" You grabbed the jet black suit. "I'll call Nick Fury to tell you how it fits." You nodded scared to be disrespectful to the women before bumping into Peter as you walked towards the door loudly closing it behind you.

You stuffed the suit in your bag, making sure no one watched. Once you were satisfied, you slipped a pack of candy you had previously bought in Venice and zipped your bag up, placing it on one shoulder before walking back towards the bus, grumbling as your anger towards Peter and Fury only grew.

"You ok?" Brad asked you as he took the last step down from the bus, seeing the frown on your face.

"Yeah don't worry about it." You passed right through him, too angry to do anything to anger Peter by interacting more with Brad and climbed the few stairs taking a seat in the same corner as before.

"Dimitri?" You asked once the last person had left.

"hmm?" The strong man nodded before turning around to face you.

"How long have you been working for S.H.E.I.L.D?" You wondered as you took your shoes off and opened the bag of candies, plopping one in your mouth.

"Long time," he replied with his thick Russian accent.

"How come I've never seen you before?" You folded your arms as you settled even more in the seats of the bus. "I hang out with Nick Fury all the time." You questioned Dimitri and for the first, in the short time you had met him, he smiled.

"That's because I work in the European quarters."

"Ah. Makes sense." You shrugged before looking at the window getting lost in a small train of thought.

"So you really think this Mysterio guy is a fake?" Dimitri questioned after a short moment of silence and you nodded.

"Yeah! I mean, I come from another reality myself. His story doesn't hold and he can't just poof from one reality to another, you either need training or powers that make you jump through space portals."

"Like Strange?"

"Exactly like Strange. That's how I got here. My best friend is a reality keeper, that's how we saved ourselves." You shifted your stare as your words became uncomfortable for you to say. "And those elementals aren't real. No one will believe me..." You sighed as you felt your eyes getting glossy. Not even Peter, the one you thought was the love of your life didn't believe you.

"How can you be so sure? You never got a chance to explain yourself yesterday..." His thick accent brought a smile to your lips.

"I'm connected to the elements, no matter the reality the elements are always the same. Water always has the same force... The same chemical reaction with air if you want me to put it that way. It doesn't change whether the reality. Same with fire or air or the earth... What I felt in Venice wasn't water. I felt nothing but air, flat normal air." You sighed, taking another candy as a way to cope. Dimitri stayed quiet, thinking of ways to convince Fury to at least listen to you.

"I don't know who that Quentin guy is... But he's definitely not saying the full truth." You continued before opening your phone, definitely needing a change of ideas. "That's the one reason im agreeing with Nick Fury's plan."

"To keep a close eye on Beck?"

"Exactly." You replied shifting in your seat as you started getting lost on your social media.

Dimitri sighed and looked at the small patch of grass that he had parked on, not knowing what to say. But before another word could be shared, Flash and his group of friends climbed into the bus, Flash's loud voice for his live making you plug in your headphones.

You thought it was going to be a peaceful ride until you spotted Peter with what you recognized to be Tony Stark's glasses sitting on the rim of his nose with panic in his eyes. He made eye contact with you trying to reach for help, pointing towards the back of the bus where a killer drone was casually soaring in the air on its way to kill. Your eyes widen and Peter suddenly made the bus turn around, screaming to everyone for baby mountain goats. Your stare becoming serious as Peter went back down after destroying it.

Brad suddenly came sitting next to your making you grumble as he broke you from your peaceful moment of trying to get over Peter.

"I'm not interested, Brad." You deadpanned as he almost stuffed his phone in your face.

"But- wait I swear this is-" He stammered as he tried to find something, nervously scrolling through his phone.

"Brad- just leave. Please."

The rest of the day flashed in front of you feeling like only angry grumbles towards Peter and complaining.

"Im not going to argue with you again." You stammered as you walked straight past Peter who was desperate to make amends. After his hopes to recover your truth in Paris, this was Peter's only hope.

The matching black stealth suits that you were both given made Peter's head spin as he watched your beautiful figure walk by in it, forgetting for a second about your fight. He watched as you placed your mask on, this time it covered your entire face and like usual your hair was loose behind you.

You looked around the grounds as you slightly jumped off the roof of the building, passing right my Mysterio on the way. You caught yourself using the winds and started walking around the crowd of festivities.

"You're lucky to have a girl like that." Mysterio broke Peter's moment of staring as you approached the fountain where the 'heatwave' was spotted.

"Yeah..." Peter sighed as he approached the border of the building ready to swing away. "But... I think we're over." He played with the tips of his gloved hands as he felt the new tears rise up to his eyes.

"oh."

"She's mad at me becaus-" He turned around to face him, thinking of rambling his feelings out for a few minutes but quickly catching himself. "Nevermind." He shook his head letting out a sad chuckle as he felt the tears line up, pushing them away as he got ready to execute the plan.

You couldn't feel a hint of heat as the ground suddenly melted, a giant fire monster slowly rising from the iron and metal that decorated the area.

You took a few steps back and placed your hand on the floor, freezing the ground in a few seconds, waiting until it reached the monster. But as it did, your powers felt as though they were on autopilot as you blinked for a few seconds watching the ice slowly invade the monster.

Sensing something was wrong, you fully let go of your powers as though you weren't doing anything, and to your surprise, the ice continued by itself as though you had never stopped using it.

You watched keeping a hand on the ground to fool Mysterio, watching when the monster melted the ice that magically appeared.

"Who is this man?" You whispered to yourself as you looked around sensing the small flying things that scattered the air. Suddenly a web shot right across you sticking to one of those invisible flying machines that clouded the air, loudly dropping a piece onto the floor.

You eyed it with your sharp eyes and started walking to it, to your surprise spotting MJ as you did.

"MJ!" you accidentally called out her name, placing a hand over your mouth in panic, stammering on your wowhatever do you know my name?" She questioned with a knowing smirk as she held onto the electronic piece.

"I- I have to go but, you- you hang on to this alright?" you asked as she stared at you with a knowing look. "And be careful, please" you sighed and she smiled as she was now 100% sure it was you and Peter behind the mask.

The rest of the fight went just as Mysterio planned. Just enough chaos and just enough everything to make Peter believe every single lie Mysterio wanted him to believe.

"You didn't want to be here." You winced as Nick Fury ended his sentence directed at Peter. "And you." He turned you a mix of anger and disappointment rising. "Do you see what could have happened if we didn't fight that thing?" Nick Fury pointed to the mess. "Fix what ever your powers are telling you, but you owe this man an apology." And with that Nick Fury turned on his heels and headed to his car leaving you and your anger.

Both you and Peter felt like tearing up, Peter definitely showing it more than you were. You balled your fist up making the wind blow around everyone without even realizing it.

"Let's get some drinks kids." Mysterio placed a hand on your shoulder to calm you down. He nodded towards you and you angrily turned your body away, Peter too devasted by Fury's words to notice the interaction.

"No." you almost screamed. "I don't know what evil things you have planned or how you managed to do that but I won't follow you anywhere!" You cried out and tried to release your hand from his grip but he brought you close to him.

"You'll be sorry for that." His grip on your wrist became harder, almost hurting you, Mysterio releasing you as you were terrorized in

fear.

"you will regret this." You pointed to Mysterio before turning around on your heels, wondering if Peter had even caught a word of the conversation.

"Well, Peter?" Peter turned around at the mention of his name. "How about a drink?"

"Im 16-"

"I'll just get you a lemonade then." He gave him a charming smile as he approached Peter, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

You grumbled something that might have not been English as you walked back to the hotel. The cold air of the night whispering in your ears as you made your way into a few dark streets feeling a certain change in the air behind you.

Before you could even turn around to see, you were hit in the head by something heavy causing you to crash to the floor, the world becoming blurry before dark hit your eyes.

- - - - -  

@averyfosterthoughts​ @justifymyfeelings​ @slytherinambitious​ @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​ @criminaly-supernatural​ @trustfundparker​​ @tomhollandreads​ @prettysbliss​​ @ksmy-99​​ @allycat449-blog​ @supernaturallover2002​

[actuallybarb]

The Aftermath ~ Part 3

Summary: y/n learns how much of a dick mysterio is and gets hit in the head because of it

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, mysterio being a dick, trauma, it’s marvel what did you expect

Word Count: 2017, the year i honest to god don’t remember, like at all

A/N: okay we’re starting to get rolling and i’m excited! i don’t remember how far i got last time but i’m really glad i’m finishing this time

                                                        //////////

If Harrington thought I was going to the opera his head was farther up his ass than I thought. We all groaned as he made the announcement and turned back upstairs to get changed. But I didn’t go back downstairs.

“Come on, Y/N.” I didn’t peg MJ as one to plead, but here she was, making puppy dog eyes at me. But if I could resist Peter’s, I could resist anyone’s.

“Remember how I said I was trying to prove Peter wrong? That’s way more entertaining than some stupid opera.”

I could feel her losing patience with me. Hell, I was losing patience with me. I wasn’t really helping myself become more integrated in my class, but Quentin Beck was all I could think about. I had to solve this mystery, for Peter and for myself.

MJ scoffed before slamming the door on her way out of the room. I paid no mind to it and got to typing.

It felt disrespectful to break into the servers of a company who’s namesake had just died, but I tried to convince myself this is what Tony Stark would’ve wanted. Yeah, sure, Y/N. I know, I’m pathetic, let’s move on.

It only took me an hour and a half to break in, and ten minutes after that to find Beck’s file.

It wasn’t pretty.

“Contract terminated due to unstable behavior.”

“Upon further psychoanalysis Quentin Beck has shown sociopathic tendencies and is a danger to himself and others.”

“Before removal from Stark Industries, Beck manipulated company drones to create illusions, disturbing many employees, including Tony Stark himself.”

Oh.

Fuck.

The stupid metal thing in the water, it was part of a drone. A drone used to make the Elemental.

I have to tell Peter.

I pulled on my sneakers and started running through the streets of Prague to the Opera House, but I ran into MJ, literally, as she was leaving.

“Where are you going?”

“Why are you running?”

“I asked you first.”

“I’m following Peter.”

“I’m looking for Peter.”

“Did you figure it out?”

“Yeah. And if we don’t get to him soon he’ll do something really stupid.”

I let MJ lead the way as we ran in the direction of the light festival. But before we could get too close, I pulled her aside.

“Listen, shit is about to hit the fan. As much as you’ll want to look for Peter and help, promise me you’ll stay back. Okay?”

“What are you gon—“

“Just promise me, MJ. I need to protect my friends.”

She gulped. “Okay, yeah, I promise.”

I exhaled in relief. “Good. Now let’s find Peter before this all goes to hell.”

It wasn’t that hard to find him. He was the one webbing the fire monster up, or at least trying to. But MJ didn’t know that. MJ couldn’t know that.

“Remember when I told you to stay back? That’s the smart thing to do right now.” MJ nodded and moved to a side street, still with an ample view of the festival.

I knew it was an illusion. But I couldn’t figure out how it was so real. What had Peter said? It grows stronger with metal? That’s something I could work with.

Of course, the big metal scaffolding was right where the fire monster was headed. But something distracted me first.

“Help! Help!” Betty and Ned were trapped in the ferris wheel, and the Elemental was getting closer and closer.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?”

Betty looked down at me and visibly sighed. “Thank god, Y/N, can you get someone to help us? We can’t get down.”

“Yeah, just—just hold on.” I could easily help them. But did I want my secret getting out to any more people?

Another swipe from the Elemental that was a little too close for comfort made my decision for me. I hovered myself up beside their door and manipulated the gears in the lock, letting it swing open as wide as their mouths were.

“Y/N, what the—“

I lifted some rock beneath the cobblestone and made a sturdy platform for them to stand on. “You might wanna hold onto something.” Then I shot them back down the thirty feet to the ground. “Now get the hell out of here.”

“We’re talking about this later!” Ned shouted as he and Betty ran for cover. I just rolled my eyes as I landed on the ground again.

In the time it took to get them to safety, though, Quentin showed up and was putting on a fantastic show. And I still had no idea how it worked. But I was determined to foil it.

One of the perks of being able to conjure fire: if I concentrate hard enough, I can become fireproof. So I could easily get in the middle of the fiery bastard and see how he did it. But I couldn’t be seen. Or, I could douse him up and hope he hardens, like lava.

The cat’s out of the bag, Dani, just finish the stupid thing.

Yeah, yeah, okay, whatever.

I felt a pull in my gut, my abs tightened, and I could hear the rush of water in my ears. With all of the strength I had left, I directed the water shooting out of the fire hydrant straight in the Elemental’s face. It was working, too, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Then something hard and heavy hit the back of my head, and I went out like a light.

//////////

“Shit, shit, shit! C’mon, wake up, wake up!”

It felt like my skull was caved in. I knew it wasn’t, considering I could actually feel how bad my headache was, but that didn’t change the fact that it still hurt like a bitch. The person kept shaking me to get up, but all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep for five days. Note to self, sleep deprivation is never the solution.

One more good shake and I was groaning and wincing and barely opening my eyes. “God, I’m up, calm the hell down.”

Peter Parker was looking down at me, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. I tried to sit up and he put an arm around my waist, helping me. “Are you okay?”

I squinted my eyes at him. It looked like Peter. It sounded like Peter. And yet, it didn’t feel like Peter. You pay attention to how people walk long enough, you start to recognize their patterns of movement. And this was all wrong. “Really? I just got hit in the head with a brick and you’re seriously asking if I’m okay?”

A light smile crossed his lips. “Yeah, that was a stupid question.”

I moved to stand up completely but Peter stood first and extended a hand to me. He felt wrong. I nearly toppled over when I stood, and Peter took a step to catch me, and I couldn’t feel him. Like, sure, I felt arms around my waist, but they weren’t Peter’s. The step wasn’t Peter’s. “You ask those a lot.”

What the hell was going on?

Another laugh from Not-Peter and it was a little unsettling to hear his voice so perfectly and yet know it wasn’t him. “I’ll probably keep asking them. C’mon, let’s get back to the hotel.”

My head felt like it was going to split in half, my ears were ringing, and I couldn’t even stand up straight without falling over. But I refused to take another step. “You’re not Peter.”

He made the exact face I imagined Peter would make. “What are you talking about, of course I’m Peter. You must’ve hit your head really hard.” His hand reached up to touch my forehead but I grabbed his wrist and let my hand get hot. Really hot. He looked like he was in pain, then he finally grimaced, and there was a small flicker by his ear. I was right.

“Where. The hell. Is Peter.”

Beneath the ringing in my ears I heard a low whir. Almost imperceptible. But definitely there. Without breaking eye contact I shifted my feet and shot a shard of earth at the noise. A crash resulted that rattled my brain and almost made me flinch, but it definitely made part of Not-Peter’s facade glitch.

Shit.

“You’re smart, kid, I’ll give you that.”

It was still Peter’s face, Peter’s voice. But the world around us started crumbling and I was suddenly falling and no amount of manipulation to the air currents was going to stop me from hitting the ground full force. Concussion number 2, anyone?

“Where’s Peter?”

“You really shouldn’t be so worried about him when you have other friends to think about.”

Suddenly I was looking up at our hotel and MJ was thrown from the top. Then Ned. Then Flash.

And I couldn’t save any of them.

More and more classmates were piled on top of each other, none of them alive. None of them saved by me.

I knew it wasn’t real. I did all of that research, I lost days of sleep over it, I knew. But all I could look at was MJ’s lifeless eyes and think that they looked so real.

“What the hell do you want?” I wanted to sound dignified. Like I was in control of myself. Like I wasn’t absolutely terrified. But I was. I didn’t know whether I was feeling the truth or not, and that scared me the most.

“To watch you squirm.”

I was thrown to the side and my surroundings changed again. I was twelve once more, and I walked into my house just in time to see my parents turn to ash. I turned to run out the door and I was suddenly in Jess’s apartment when her husband reappeared and the gut-wrenching feeling of rejection hit me all over again. One more turn and I was back at school with hundreds of kids pushing past me; completely forgotten, completely alone.

I collapsed to my knees and sobbed. I had buried everything so deeply just so I could function as close to a normal teenager as possible. And now they were thrown back in my face all at once.

Wait. Midtown Tech had tiled floors. These were wood.

Liar.

My sobs turned to sniffles, but I kept my head down. There it was, the whirring. I lightly tapped the ground, and sure enough, it was earth. I slapped the ground and drones started dropping left and right with pieces of rock sticking out of the metal. Midtown Tech was crumbling before my eyes and I smiled.

Of course, it didn’t last very long.

“You bitch.” A remaining drone fired at me but I dropped down and let the bullet fly over my head. Not-Peter’s facade faded and Quentin Beck stood there instead. He grabbed my hair and forced me to look at him. “Let’s make this simple: you can come quietly, or you can come in a body bag.”

A part of me thought he was bluffing. A part of me knew he wasn’t.

“What the hell do you want?”

“You’re going to help me put on one more show.” Before I could move there was a needle in my neck and my vision went black.

/////////////

I was crashing. I had gone too long without sleeping, I had too much adrenaline, and now I was crashing. Karma’s a bitch. You know who else is a bitch? Quentin Beck. And guess who was staring me in the face as I came to.

“Not you again.”

“This is how this is going to work,” he started. “You’re going to make a real Elemental, and then I am going to defeat you.”

“Hell no.”

Beck’s fist connected with my jaw and I swear I got whiplash. “Let’s try that again. You will do this, or I’ll have the drones in New York kill every person you’ve ever loved.”

Fucking bastard. I just got them back, I’m not losing them again.

“What do you need me to do?”

tags: @eridanuswave​ @vampirestrawberries​

[sunshinebunnie]

Happy Holidays! If it strikes your creative fancy.. #14 with Bughead for the holiday prompts ask game!

**Squee** Thank you so much for this lovely ask, Sarah!! I hope you like it. 🤗🤗

Kissing Beneath the 23rd Floor

Jughead banged his head against the wall of the elevator when the greenish-orangish lights flickered for the umpteenth time. He hated living in the dorms, but the housing allowance that came with his writing scholarship couldn’t be transferred to off-campus housing (not that it would’ve covered anything other than 21st century tenement housing anyway given New York’s insane rents). As embarrassing as it was to be the only non-residential advisor junior living in a freshman/sophomore dorm, the housing office had at least done him the courtesy of securing him a single on the top floor. While he certainly couldn’t beat the view and he greatly appreciated not having to deal with the sounds of people having sex above him or puking in a trashcan five feet from his bed in the middle of the night, he was at the mercy of the latest and greatest in 1960s elevator technology. Nearly every other week, there were signs taped to the elevators banks indicating at least one or the other of the building’s elevators was out of commission because of repairs. 

The creaky metal box came to a shuddering stop at 14th floor. As the doors slowly opened with a protesting screech, Jughead found himself silently praying that some freshman had decided to play ding-dong-ditch with the elevators. Over the course of the semester, he’d quickly come to learn that the only thing worse than living in a dorm with antiquated facilities was living in a dorm with antiquated facilities with underclassmen. It had taken him a couple weeks, but he’d eventually managed to figure out the tell-tale signs that someone was a freshman and largely avoided getting on to the elevators with them: he’d been subjected one too many times to someone’s wide-eyed story about how it was their life dream to move to New York! as well as a couple awkward instances of being sloppily propositioned by drunk freshmen (men and women), not to mention the especially memorable time after midterms when a comp sci major bawled against his shoulder for sixteen floors because he’d flunked his coding exam. He held his breath as he waited to see whether one of Santa’s “lost elves” was about to get on the elevator with him (he’d already had thirteen unavoidable encounters this week). 

When no one immediately made to get on the elevator, he started to breathe a sigh of relief, only to tense up as a hand suddenly shot between the slowly closing doors. The disembodied appendage flailed for a second, trying to find the elevator’s sensor to signal that someone was trying to get on. As the doors continued shutting, he heard a muffled voice that sounded like it said ‘for fuck’s sake’ as the waving hand disappeared. For a split second, he considered just appreciating his good luck and enjoying the rest of his elevator ride (hopefully) in peace, but then he thought back to what time it probably was. It had already been after 11:30 when Archie’s gig had wrapped up, which meant it had to be nearing midnight or later. The only people he’d run into in his dorm that late at night who sounded as coherent as the person on the other end of the elevator doors were the residential advisors. With a heavy sigh, he reached for the “door open” button.

It took long enough for the doors to reopen that he was almost beginning to think he’d broken the elevator when a cheery, but tired-looking blonde stepped gracefully into the confined space. Her hunter green corduroy skirt was offset by a pristine cream-colored sweater covered with a tasteful motif of poinsettias made out of delicate red glass seed beads. If it had been anyone else, he would’ve immediately glanced at her feet to see if she was wearing the ubiquitous Uggs that nearly every sophomore girl in the building appeared to own; however, he recognized her ponytail. (He should’ve, after all, having been transfixed by it every Monday and Wednesday from 10 to 11:30 during their required survey course freshman year: Intro to Film Studies.) 

Betty Cooper. 

He’d wanted an excuse to talk to her, but had never worked up the nerve. Toni, Sweet Pea and Fangs had latched on to him for their group project within the first week of class, and she always seemed to be surrounded by some guy named Kevin and a forbidding brunette named Veronica. Out of all his friends, Toni seemed to be the only one who’d caught him mooning over her from time to time, and she’d jokingly given him shit that he should just bite the bullet and create an Instagram account so he could stalk her properly. 

Jughead was so caught up in his own memories that it took him a minute to realize she was giving him an odd look of searching recognition: it was a look he’d frequently gotten in high school when more popular people from Riverdale High would run into the “loner weirdo from the Southside” around town. Before he had a chance to confirm to her that yes, they did know each other, her green eyes lit up a little, and she said, “Jughead?”

Any ability he had to comprehend or communicate in English–or in any other way, for that matter–abandoned him as he stared dumbly at her in shock. When he didn’t initially respond, the small crinkles at the corners of her eyes started to smooth out as she repeated a little more tentatively, “It is Jughead, right? I remember you. From Film Studies? Freshman year? You always had really insightful comments on all the Hitchcock movies. I’m Bett…”

“…Betty Cooper. I remember,” he finished for her, his brain and his mouth having finally reconnected to one another. 

The tentative look she had was once again chased away by a tired smile as she acknowledged he recognized her too. Betty briefly turned to look at the floor buttons before giving her attention back to him. Having mutually confirmed that they knew each other, they settled back into that semi-awkward silence that tends to pervades elevators when the occupants know one another, but not well enough for casual conversation to come naturally. Jughead watched as she began to unconsciously worrying at the cuffs of her sweater before he said, “I didn’t realize you were one of the residential advisors here.”

Betty ducked her head to the side as she softly tittered for a second before replying, “Oh, that’s because I’m not. There’s a mold problem in my campus apartment, and facility services can’t take care of it until Monday. My friend Ethel is off skiing in the Poconos this weekend with her sorority sisters though, so she’s letting me crash in her room.”

He knew Ethel. She was one of the “motherly” advisors that the more homesick freshmen seemed to swarm around like gnats. Jughead had tried being cordial with her initially–like he was with most of the other upperclassmen in the building–but had started avoiding her more recently after she’d taken it into her head that she needed to Witness to him and had become hellbent on converting him. 

Before the awkward silence descended on them again, Betty prompted, “Do you like being an advisor?”

Jughead let out a dry laugh, which earned him a confused look from her, before he replied, “I’m not an advisor either.”

Betty’s face lit up for the briefest of seconds before her brows started knitting together again. Right as he was going to ask what was bothering her, she said, “You don’t strike me as the booty call type.”

As a creative writing major, Jughead rarely found himself speechless, yet Betty Cooper had managed to strike him dumb twice in under five minutes. He could only imagine how hard Toni would be laughing if she could see him now. His normal embarrassment at admitting he lived in the building was quickly overridden by his desire to disabuse her of the notion that he was somehow preying on young women who weren’t much older than jailbait. Closing his eyes for a second, he centered his thoughts, before steadily holding her gaze as he said seriously, “I’m not. I live here.”

The confusion on her face only deepened as she said, “But you said you’re not an advisor.”

He sighed. This was the explanation he hated getting into with other upperclassmen. He was supposed to be doing a semester abroad at a prestigious writing retreat; however, getting everything settled, he found out the stipend he’d been depending on to cover his living expenses for the four months he was there had been given to a “more challenged” candidate. Unable to make the financials work, he’d been forced to scrap his study abroad plan at the last minute. While getting into the classes he wanted hadn’t been too difficult (the benefit of being a faculty favorite within the department), sorting out his housing had proved much more difficult. Toni had wound up transferring to an all-women’s college upstate at the start of their sophomore year, while Sweet Pea and Fangs moved off campus. Without really knowing any other juniors or seniors, he hadn’t been able to get into a suite with anyone he knew he’d get along with, and he wasn’t willing to risk moving in with another psychotic like his freshman roommate, Malachai. When a freshman decided to de-enroll two weeks before the start of school, campus housing had shoved him into the newly available single and called it a day. 

Rather than get into his sob story with her, he opted for the decidedly more taciturn explanation: “There were complications with my study abroad program, and this was the only available housing left.”

Jughead paused, waiting for the invariable look that decried, ‘Seriously? You couldn’t find a single upperclassman to live with? What’s wrong with you?’ Before he could go on the defensive though, Betty turned soft green eyes full of genuine sympathy toward him as she said, “That must’ve been really frustrating for you. At least, I know when I had to cancel my study abroad plans it was really frustrating.”

A part of him wanted to snap that he didn’t need her pity, but the more rational side of him was able to squash the self-destructive impulse before he did something stupid—like act on it. Instead, he found himself giving her a small smile back as he said, “It was.” 

Silence settled back over them again, periodically broken up by high-pitched squealing from the elevator’s ancient cable wheel. By the time they’d reached the 19th floor, several minutes had passed without them speaking, and Betty had begun looking earnestly at her shoes to avoid the temptation to stare at the enigmatic man sharing the small space with her. She was just starting to daydream about what might’ve happened if she’d listened to Veronica freshman year and simply given him her phone number when she suddenly heard him ask, “What’s the occasion?” 

Her head popped up like a prairie dog at the unexpected question before she briefly glanced back down to take a look at her outfit. “This? No occasion,” she said with a slight blush, “A few of us from the student paper got together to watch the tree lighting at Rockefeller Center, then grabbed some drinks after.”

He nodded sagely, although in three years of living in Manhattan, it had never once occurred to him to go see a Christmas tree get lit up. The image of Betty standing in front of a comically large tree covered in twinkling fairy lights suddenly popped into his head—the whole idea seemed positively Rockwellian to him, and a small sardonic grin pulled at the edges of his mouth. At least, it did, until he realized Betty hadn’t gotten on the elevator at the ground floor, and his good humor quickly morphed into a scowl. “Seducing impressionable freshmen with the romantic holiday atmosphere, Mrs. Robinson?” he asked just dryly enough for it to still be considered a joke, but it was close. 

Betty’s eyes shot wide open, and for the briefest second, he thought she was going to slap him, but instead, she threw her head, her ponytail dancing in time with her tinkling laughter. “Hardly,” she said when she finally caught her breath. “More like letting Trev cry on my shoulder after finding out the guy he’s sort of been seeing this semester has a very serious girlfriend back home in Connecticut, who decided to come down for the weekend as a surprise.” 

Jughead winced. He didn’t know Trevor well, but he’d periodically shared a creaky elevator ride with the quiet ceramics major, and what happened to him was a shitty thing to go through. 

The elevator had just pulled passed the 20th floor when it let out a particularly loud whine of protest before coming to an abrupt halt. The sudden change in momentum caught them both by surprise. Although Betty valiantly attempted to stay upright, her efforts were for naught as Jughead slammed heavily into her with a loud oof. 

“Ow!” Betty cried as her hip slammed into the aluminum grab bar screwed to the wall of the elevator. 

“Sorry!” Jughead said, his hand reflexively dropping to Betty’s waist as he braced himself for the fall. 

His fingers feathered over a sliver of exposed skin on her back as her sweater rode up slightly, and she shivered a little from the unexpected contact. Jughead’s eyes dropped to her lips before sweeping back up to her face. A light blush spread across her cheeks as she looked up at him with something akin to longing, and his heart started to race. Her eyes flickered past his ear.

“Mistletoe,” she said breathily. 

“Huh?” he said as her captivating eyes settled back on his face.

“Someone hung mistletoe from the lights,” she whispered with a husky burr coloring her voice.

His heart momentarily stuttered in his chest. He didn’t normally ascribe to the sort of forced holiday merriment that mistletoe pretended to embody; however, as Betty’s hopeful gaze slowly settled back toward his lips, he found himself leaning infinitesimally closer toward her. 

“Remind me,” he said softly as he felt the humidity caused by the warm exhalations of her mouth so close to his skin, “what’s the tradition with mistletoe?”

Without another word, Betty closed the small gap between them, pressing her plush, velvety lips to his. He groaned against her mouth as all of his synaptic nerves suddenly fired off like fireworks on New Year’s Eve, and he reflexively pulled Betty closer to him. Her tongue probed his half open mouth more eagerly than he was anticipating as her fingers pulled sharply on the fine hairs at the base of his neck, and the sharp sting caught him pleasantly by surprise. Pulling his mouth away from hers, he nipped teasingly at her bottom lip when she let out a small plaintive mewl of displeasure at his having broken off their kiss. 

Jughead couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he took in the full scope of her adorable pout. Before he had a chance to make a playfully sarcastic comment though, the stalled elevator slowly started rumbling back to life. His eyes reflexively sought out the floor guide, and he felt his heart drop a little when he realized Betty was destined to get off in two more floors. He could sense his normal “bah-humbug” romantic feelings begin overtaking him again as he realized his shared moment with Betty was all too fleeting. 

As the light for the 21st floor weakly illuminated, Jughead could see Betty chewing on her lip as if she was contemplating a question. As if on cue, he heard her ask in a quietly suggestive voice, “Do you believe in Krampus, Jughead?”

His brow knit momentarily in confusion before he replied a little more brusquely than he otherwise would’ve intended, “No. Why?”

Betty gave him a blinding grin before balling her fist in his soft cotton t-shirt and yanking him toward the creakily opening doors as she said, “Good. Because I aim to misbehave.”

~*~The End~*~

[gwenbrightly]

Never A Perfect Moment 2

Crossposted from ffnet

Kai blearily peeked out of his hammock, still fully ensconced in the fluffy blankets Lloyd was so taken with. He could just barely make out the sleeping forms of his family on the several hideaway beds, additional hammock, and one air mattress that had been hastily inflated a few nights back when they first arrived at the apartment that Lloyd had taken up residence in while the rest of them were off on their individual missions. None of the others were up yet. Why was he even awake? So early…. Misako and Wu were probably still fast asleep in the loft he was currently dangling from. He snuggled back down, hoping that maybe he'd fall back asleep. He'd take every bit of rest he could get at this point. Everything that had transpired recently was definitely starting to catch up with him. It was hard to believe that several days had already passed since they had all been reunited. Life had been a whirlwind of phone calls, hospital visits, takeout meals, and restoration efforts. So much clean up and repair work… that alone took up countless hours. The busyness was good, he supposed. Kai had less time to worry about Skylor's fragile health when he was distracted by the hundreds of tasks that needed doing in order to return the city to its former glory. Somewhere in all the chaos, however, a small glimmer of light had appeared. Late into the previous evening, they had received word that the master of amber's condition had been updated to stable. Even if she wasn't conscious yet, it was a vast improvement over the puking, seizures and assisted breathing that had initially plagued her. And this fact was enough to give Kai all the hope he needed. The master of fire planned to be present whenever her body decided that it was time to wake up. Part of him wanted to kiss her senseless when it finally happened. But given the… undefined nature of their relationship, he wasn't sure she'd appreciate the gesture. He didn't want to hurt her…And he wasn't quite sure how to go about bringing it up without making the entire situation even more complicated than it already was. The master of fire buried his face beneath a pillow, trying once more to lull himself back to sleep. When it didn't work, he gave a muffled groan. He was going to need a nap later at this rate. Giving up on the idea of sleeping more, Kai quietly slipped from his hammock, navigating his way towards the quaint little kitchen. If he were going to be awake, he might as well do something productive and fix a nice breakfast for them to enjoy before another hectic day began (even if his cooking was nowhere near Zane's level). The master of fire tiptoed past a snoring Cole, then edged around the hideaway that currently housed both Jay and Nya, who were currently cuddling more excessively than he would've preferred. It looked like Jay had graduated from hugging pillows to subconsciously clinging to his girlfriend. But, they had been through an awful lot lately. And he was fairly certain that he'd heard the master of lightning mention something about yin and yang symbols at least once while they'd been in the First Realm. So. He should probably leave them be. In the quiet gloom, master of fire nearly tripped over a sweatshirt that someone (Cole) had left on the floor. He stumbled into the kitchen, catching himself on the island. Kai froze for a moment, concerned that the small thudding noise he'd made would wake someone. When nothing happened, he kept going. His phone was right where he'd left it the night before, plugged in on the counter. The master of fire powered it on and started searching for pancake recipes. He was 100% confident that Lloyd would never have stocked the cupboards with mix under any circumstances. Foods like this simply weren't anywhere near as good when they came from a box, and the blonde knew it. They'd lived off of off brand cereal and cheap multi-purpose mix enough times to recognize the difference. The ingredients weren't hard to find. The milk was perhaps a few days past its best by date, and the flour was a bit clumpy, but he could make do. At least he, unlike some people, had never given anyone food poisoning. Which put the odds in his favor (in his opinion). Kai pulled a griddle off a shelf and began measuring things into various cups and pitchers he'd located while waiting for it to heat to an appropriate temperature. As he poured flour into a cup, he failed to hear the stealthy family member sneak up behind him. Which was surprising, considering everything life had thrown at him lately.

"G'morning, Kai!" Nya whispered drowsily. He dropped a measuring instrument, sending up a cloud of flour.

"Nya, you know you can't do stuff like that. You gave me a heart attack…" He complained, blinking the white powder from his eyes.

"Sorry…" She hissed.

"What're you even doing up?" Kai asked, still in shock. Nya was usually the opposite of a morning person. She shrugged as best she could, careful not to jostle her bad shoulder.

"I… nightmare, I guess?" She informed him with a slight frown. It wasn't like this was anything new. Glancing at the glowing numbers on the microwave, she added

"But it is almost 8:30 in the morning…"

"Already?" He rubbed at his face, trying to remove the rest of the substance that currently coated it. She'd tell him about her nightmare if she needed to.

"Here, you look ridiculous! Please let me help you before you manage to get it everywhere…" Nya requested, reaching for a towel that hung near the sink. She tossed it to him with a practiced air of ease.

"Thanks."

"So. Makin' pancakes?"

"Yep. Wanna help?"

"Sure. It's better than watching Jay snuggle with my pillow…" They glanced over to the boy's prone form. Sure enough, in the absence of the master of water, he'd managed to maneuver her pillow into his arms.

"I bet you wish you knew what he's thinking right now, huh?" Kai said with a smirk. His sister raised an eyebrow.

"What could you possibly know about Jay's innermost thoughts?"

"Psh… don't doubt my abilities. Clearly he's thinking 'Oh Nya, I could hold you in my arms forever and ever. I think of you every second of every day… No! Every millisecond! You're so beautiful and awesome and your hair smells like wild cherries on a Sunday afternoon.'" Nya's cheeks turned bright red.

"He does not sound like that!" She protested, biting back a laugh.

"Oh, really?"

"Really. His lips move about a million times faster than that. Now cut it out before you wake the others. Chocolate chips or no?" The girl busied herself, rummaging through a cupboard Kai had somehow missed.

"Do you even have to ask?" He replied.

"Chocolate chip pancakes it is, then."

"You two really went all put with this place, you know?" The master of fire stated after a few minutes of joint mixing and measuring (during which time several handfuls of chips mysteriously disappeared). Nya sobered.

"Y-yeah… we… we wanted it to feel like home. So."

"I get it. It was hard on both you and Lloyd to be left here while the rest of us were gone." He assured her. The batter was almost ready now.

"Even with all the video calls and stuff. It just… wasn't the same. And then I had to leave too, and then… just when we were all together again…" Nya commented absently, playing with a few pieces of chocolate.

"Hey, let's not go there right now… Things were bad, yeah. But they're getting better. We just gotta keep moving forward."

"You've been spending too much time with Jay lately, haven't you?" She accused in a slightly lighter tone.

"You try being stuck with him after he's suffered a mental breakdown and see if you like it." Asserted Kai.

"No thanks." His sister retorted, a weak smile playing on her lips, "You know what these pancakes need to go with them?"

"Bacon?"

"Bacon." Nya decided, wandering over to the refrigerator. By some stroke of luck, there was a slab that hadn't yet expired.

"Perfect. And we've got whipped cream, too. This is gonna make Lloyd's day."

"Yeah! No one will be able to resist the Smith siblings' world famous pancakes." Kai stated lightly, holding out his hand for a fist bump. The raven-haired girl obliged with an eye roll, but wasn't willing to let Kai off the hook.

"You mean Betty Crocker's world famous pancakes."

"Yeah, sure, that." He agreed dismissively, making an (admittedly weak) attempt to bash her over the head with a spatula. Predictably, she dodged.

"Missed me, dork."

"Only cause you won't hold still, shortie…" The master of fire swiped again. This time Nya grabbed her own weapon.

"I'm taller than you." She reminded, blocking his attempt and returning it with her own.

"Yeah, barely!" The two spatulas met with a soft clang, but the siblings no longer cared whether or not they woke the others (the food was almost done, anyway).

"Porcupine breath!"

"Mistletoe addict!"

"Oh my gosh Kai! That was one year."

"You say that like there's no way it'll happen again this Christmas..." Kai paused to flip the latest batch of pancakes. Nya gave a long-suffering sigh.

"How do you know you won't be the one using it as an excuse to kiss Skylor?"

"I… I haven't even talked to her about things yet. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here... I don't even know if…" He replied in a more serious tone. Her face fell slightly.

"That's... Okay, I understand..."

"Sorry… it's just… you and Jay make all of this look so easy, and…" Kai started. Nya snorted, shaking her head in wonder.

"Easy?! Kai. You know as well as anyone that we've had our fair share of rough patches. Super rough ones. There were days I thought we'd never make it to this point. And sometimes? I'm still scared I'm gonna mess up really bad and hurt him again…" She admitted softly. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. He'd missed these heart to hearts with his sister. It felt good to be able to be so open with each other again. Even if there were still a few things he was keeping from her – Jay owed him big time.

"You've both come such a long way. I'm so proud of you, sis. And somehow, I don't think that's gonna happen. Something tells me you guys are gonna be just fine."

"Thanks… I think I needed to hear that…" She replied, leaning against him, "You're heading to the hospital as soon as breakfast's over." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah. If… if she wakes up today, I wanna be there for her. Not sure how she'll take the whole coma and being put on oxygen thing." The ninja of fire admitted. She nodded and snuggled against him, enjoying the quiet.

"I smell food," Came Cole's voice from the air mattress he was currently located on, "How soon're we gonna eat?"

"It'll be sooner if you come set the table like the gentleman that you are." Nya called back.

"Hear that, buddy? It's time to get up and make ourselves useful." The master of earth told Lloyd, throwing a perfectly aimed pillow at him. He sat up with a yawn.

"Gah! Fine. I'm up." The blonde stated with a groan, climbing out of his hammock.

"Want me to set out the juice?" Jay offered, also awake now and full of energy.

"Sure."

"And while we do that, can you guys fold up the hideaways? There's no point in having them take up all this extra space." The Green Ninja asked Zane and Pixal.

"Of course." The samurai replied.

"It shouldn't take us very long." Added the master of ice brightly. Like a well-oiled machine, the group set about accomplishing their responsibilities. Within minutes, several people were already in line to start filling their plates.

"So, obviously Kai will be heading to the hospital first, but then what?" Lloyd asked, spraying nearly an entire can of whipped cream on his food. Was he really that predictable? Kai briefly wondered in between attempts to confiscate the delicious topping before Lloyd could make himself sick.

"You gonna join us at the old monastery? Uncle Wu mentioned wanting to look into rebuilding it."

"Uh. Maybe. I was thinking of dropping by Master Chen's and seeing if June needs any help first, though, if that's okay with you guys?" He answered, piling some bacon onto his plate. Nya nodded.

"That poor girl probably does need some support. I can't imagine how chaotic things at the restaurant are right now. Maybe we should meet you there and all head to the monastery together?" She suggested.

"Yeah. That's a good plan. We'll work on helping with rebuilding efforts somewhere nearby and catch you on our way over." Lloyd decided. Kai gave his family a smile.

"Fine by me. I'll text you when I'm done at the hospital."

~-~

Kai was already far too familiar with the route that would take him to Skylor's room. He hurriedly scribbled his name on the check in sheet and turned leave, but was interrupted by Jen, the nurse who happened to be running the visitor's desk.

"I should probably warn you. Miss Chen is finally awake, but she was causing quite the commotion earlier..." She told him. He stared at her, confused. Oh. Now he wished that he'd arrived a bit earlier. Not that he'd pass up a nice breakfast with his family. He knew how much it meant to Lloyd and Nya.

"What do you mean commotion…?"

"Um… We had to give her a bunch of narcotics because her body is still recovering from being so sick, and she was in a lot of pain, and… Well… maybe it's better if you see for yourself…"

"That's… comforting…" Kai said with only a hint of sarcasm.

"I know... I promise it's not as bad as it sounds." She smiled apologetically.

"And I'm sorry for making you more worried. Maybe things have calmed down by now. Have a nice visit!" The nurse waved, watching him head down the hallway.

"Thanks. I-I will." He called back over his shoulder. Wondering what Jen could possibly have meant, he hurried along. He couldn't help but reflect back on all the memories they shared. All the times he'd come to her, looking for advice, or the days they'd bothbeen desperate for an escape and spent hours hiding from their responsibilities… Over the years, they had spent so much time together… Hopefully it wasn't too late for them to build something more…

As he grew closer to the room he knew was hers, he could hear voices carrying on a rather loud conversation.

"Miss Chen, please stop playing with the iv drip. It'll only work if it stays in your arm!" Someone, another nurse, probably, insisted urgently.

"But I can't bend my arm with it in… see?" An additional voice complained in a tone that was just barely audible. A machine beeped loudly. The owner of the first voice sighed heavily.

"Then don't bend your arm so much… keep it like this, okay?" The beeping stopped.

"Okay, okay. But… ammi gonna have any visitors today? This… this is boring. Like. Why izznt Kai here? He's so great. Betcha he'd make everything just… fade away…"

"I aware of that. You've told me already. Five different times, in fact." Hearing himself being discussed, the master of fire knocked softly on the door. There was the sound of footsteps on the other side, then it opened. A haggard looking nurse ushered him inside.

"Heeey, hot stuff!" Skylor called unsteadily. With a bit of color back in her skin and a noticeably less terrifying body temperature, she looked somewhat better than the last time Kai had seen her. But it was obvious that she had yet to fully recover from her ordeal. He wasn't completely sure she was even focusing on him and not some imaginary version of himself.

"I was juussst. Telling my good man Friday, here, all about you!" The nurse shook his head in exasperation.

"That's…. Not my name, but okay. I'm just gonna step out into the hall and let you two talk this out…Let me know if you need anything." The redhead giggled as Kai took a seat in the empty chair next to her bed.

"Oh Kai! I've missed you sooo much…. I'm really glad you're not dead, y'know? That would've been so sucky…"

"Uh... Yeah? I missed you too..." Was the only thing he could think of to say. She stared at him wide eyed, as if this were some mind-blowing piece of information that had rocked her entire world.

"Kai?" Skylor whispered, her perception of the room spinning slightly.

"Y-es?"

"Hazanyone ever tooold you how beautiful your eyelashes are?" She asked. Well, whatever he'd been expecting her to say, it hadn't been that.

"What?"

"They're so…. Long…a-and full… and. And every time I look at them I just! I wannem. Cause they're so lucious and pretty, and it's not fair!" The redhead cried loudly, "S'not fair…. Why'do you getta be the one with the such fabulous eyelashes when I'm stuck with…. These…?" She gestured weakly at her face (her eyelashes weren't unattractive in the slightest, he noted). He struggled to keep a straight face.

"I dunno Sky, I really don't."

"An' don't even get me started on the hair…. It's sooo…. Spiky. Like a porcupine… except cuddlier... I just wanna touchit…." Sniffling slightly, she continued, "But I won't. Cause I know you probably wudd'n wan' me to. So I won't. But I wanna."

"You're allowed to touch my hair if it really means that much to you. You just gotta ask." He told her patiently. Skylor perked up immediately.

"Woah… really?"

"Sure," Leaning forward, he shrugged. She reached out a trembling hand and gently petted his head.

"Oooh…. S'much softer thanni thought it'd be…" The master of amber mused, before growing serious again.

"Why're you always soo nice to me? Like even back when I was… eeeven back on the island. You were so kind…. And I was a big ol liar… M'sorry bout that… You're too pure for me to pull crap like that on you…. I shouldn't've… Oh! An, then, there was that time you asked me to the zoo? An I totally thought you were gonna backout, but ya did'n. I was so happy! Only, it made me fall more in love with you…. Onn'a these days I gotta get you to ask me out for realsies…." A dreamy look crossed her face as she stared into his eyes for a moment, "That'd be amazing… like maybe even the best thing ever… And you know what? I've been doing some thinking, and you know whattineed? A pet peacock!" Had Kai heard her right? Sure they'd gone out together a couple of times (but was it as friends?), and yes, he'd always hoped she was at least interested, but this was different. If Skylor really was in love with him, then…

"Wait. Say that again... Please?" He begged.

"Uh... I wanna peacock?" She replied confusedly.

"No, before that…" But it was already too late; the moment was gone. She scrunched her eyebrows in concentration, then frowned.

"Hm… I-I.… got nothing… Sorry..."

"It's... It's fine." Kai assured her once it had become clear that nothing was going to jog her memory. Skylor yawned, looking deflated. The energy she'd seemed to have when he first arrived was vanishing rapidly.

"These meds... have really got me all messed up, huh?" The master of amber noted sleepily, in a moment of surprising lucidity, sinking back onto her pillows. She didn't even know the half of it…

"I understand… Why don't you try to get some rest now, okay?" He suggested.

"Mmm… fink I will…" She agreed as she snuggled into the thin white sheets, "G'night Kai..."

"Sweet dreams, Sky." As she shut her eyes with a contented smile, the master of fires heart twisted. There was so much he wanted, no needed, to say to her… but he couldn't, not now, and he wondered if there ever would be a perfect moment. Sighing softly, Kai smoothed the sleeping young lady's hair out of her face.

"Goodbye," He whispered, knowing full well that she couldn't hear him.

~-~

"If I ever have to clean out another industrial sized refrigerator full of rotten food, it'll be too soon…" Chad stated dramatically, collapsing into the nearest chair as he exited Master Chen's storeroom. The table in front of him, which happened to be in restaurant's main office, was covered with cleaning supplies, paperwork, and half empty coffee mugs.

"It could've been much worse, and you know it, Mr. I've held literally every job possible at the Ninjago City Mall." June replied, powering on her tablet. She pulled up the checklist they had been valiantly attempting to complete for most of the morning (there was only so much that could be accomplished at once when working with someone possessing Chad's attention span) and made a note next to 'Clean and inventory all supplies currently in storage; remove rotted foodstuffs'. They still had a lot to do if they wanted to have things up and running again before Skylor was released from the hospital. The bespectacled young lady was holding out hope that this would happen sooner, rather than later. She'd nearly flung her phone across the room in panic a few days ago when Kai had texted her to inform her that her friend (and boss) had been rushed to the ER in the aftermath of the battle. Skylor definitely didn't deserve everything the world had thrown at her, especially not being so ill. And she'd do anything she could to lessen the burdens she knew she carried in the meantime.

"Okay, yes. Anything's better than toilet duty…" He allowed, peering over June's shoulder to get a better look at what she was doing. The level of organization on the screen would never cease to impress him. He could barely keep track of his car keys, let alone make sense of the notes he wrote himself during his journalism courses (which had been paused due to an evil warlord taking over the city). How on earth did she manage it all so effortlessly? But that was just the way June was. For as long as Chad could remember, she had always been good at this sort of thing. Being the one to make sure things would turn out okay, no matter what. The quiet, but comforting force, always there to cheer him on. She hadn't always seen her own strength to begin with, but once she'd found her voice, she'd become unstoppable. And he loved her for it.

"You know, the bathrooms are still on the list if you'd like to revisit your glory days…" The manager of Master Chen's Noodle House informed him with an innocent smile. Chad shook his head vigorously.

"I'm good, thanks. My internship at Ninjago Times is definitely a step up from that."

"I know it is." June sighed, slumping in her seat as she ran some calculations in her head, "I just wish we could make it a bit longer without the city being in danger... We've had giant snakes, evil robots, a cult… when will it all stop?"

"It would be nice to graduate on time… but I'm really just glad we're both alive at this point…" The young man told her, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"And besides, think about how different our lives would be without some of the things that have happened over the years. You might not have ended up applying for your assistant manager position, and I know how much you love working here! And I know Skylor's super glad she has you for a friend…"

"That's very true," She agreed, "And you can't deny that those awkward run ins with the ninja contributed to your decision to go into journalism." Chad stood, flashing her a grin.

"Yep, and I couldn't be happier. Life's good; I've got a career I'm passionate about, a wonderful fiancée who puts up with my crazy ideas… Well, most of the time at least!" He pulled her to her feet,

"And… a restaurant in desperate need of some tlc… we should probably get back to work, huh?"

"Yeah, probably. C'mon, let's go see what the others are up to. I'm sure they are wondering why we're not finished with the inventory yet." Decided June. Still holding hands, they wandered back into the main part of the building. The employees that had so graciously volunteered to come in on their spare time and help revitalize the restaurant were hard at work. Several people were scrubbing the conveyer that usually displayed a variety of dishes. Still more wiped furiously to remove smudges from the windows. A pile of broken chairs and a table that was inexplicably missing a leg sat in one corner – a staunch reminder of lawlessness the SOG had lived by during Garmadon's reign of terror. It was a good thing no one had been present when the restaurant had been torn apart in the search for the green ninja and his friends. That wouldn't have ended well, she was certain. The sight had been devastating when they'd first arrived earlier that morning. But things were starting to look up, now. Even if there was definitely going to be some lingering trauma for some of them.

"It's looking better already. We'll have this place up and running again in no time!" Chad cheerfully declared, knowing just how worried June had been.

"Hey you guys. We were starting to worry that you'd gotten eaten by some sort of mutated refrigerator monster or something." Greeted one of the waitresses as she glanced over at the couple.

"We… got a bit sidetracked…" June explained.

"That's okay – as long as you weren't sucking each other's faces off in there." A busboy replied.

"… Did you really just say that, Kyle?" Someone else deadpanned.

"Yeah, have some respect. June's our boss. You oughta know better than that!"

"Okay," June called, stepping in before the discussion could turn into an argument (a relatively common occurrence with this particular set of individuals), "Hey, you know what? Everyone take a break. You've all been working so hard. Go get some food. And water – hydration's very important. I don't want to see any of you back here working for at least half an hour. But seriously, thank you so much for coming today. I know Skylor would really appreciate your dedication if she were here." This seemed to relieve the sense of tension that had been beginning to grow amongst the employees. They scattered in groups and pairs, grateful to be free of productivity for the time being.

"So… what are we gonna do with all this damaged furniture?" Asked one waitress, who happened to be lingering a bit longer than the others. June and Chad walked over to inspect it more closely.

"Hm… Most of it looks salvageable." The young man mused. She nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah… I don't suppose you know of any good furniture repair businesses, Daisy?"

"Not off the top of my head, but I can ask around, if you want?" Replied the frizzy haired young lady.

"That would be a huge help." June commented, looking relieved.

"Sure thing, boss." Daisy said with a cheerful nod before heading off in search of lunch. The pair looked at each other, smiling tiredly, already missing the chaotic atmosphere and sense of comradery the others had provided.

"Which non bathroom related task shall we tackle next?" Questioned Chad, nudging his fiancée, eager to begin another project. A few more minutes of hard work wouldn't harm anything. They could always retrieve their sandwiches from the refrigerator later.

"Hm... We could-" The sound of the bell above the front door ringing prevented June from answering him.

"I'm sorry, but Master Chen's Noodle House is not open for business at the moment. I'm afraid you'll have to come back later if you want any noodles." She stated absently, a bit surprised that someone would attempt to eat there at a time like this.

"I'm not here for the food. Didn't you get my text?"

"Wait – Kai?" The young woman spun to face their visitor.

"Hey June, Chad." The master of fire greeted sheepishly.

"Oh my gosh. I've had my phone on silent all morning… I must have missed it. I'm so sorry!" June apologized, frantically rushing over to him.

"Eh, it's fine. It uh, looks like you've had your hands full here…" Kai commented, glancing about curiously. He had to admit that he hadn't anticipated seeing the restaurant in quite this bad of shape.

"Yeah. You should've seen the place when we got here. Total disaster!" Chad informed Kai, nodding vehemently.

"What.. What exactly happened, here? Was it the SOG?" He asked, eyes drawn to the broken furniture.

"Uhuh... We weren't here when they arrived... The... Incident with the colossus was broadcast on the news and Skylor sent us all home as soon as she saw it. She was so shaken – didn't want any of us to get hurt due to her relationship with you guys. And of course, she was being her usual caring self and prioritizing everyone else's wellbeing over her own, but it was so difficult to stand by and not be able to offer her any comfort. I've never seen her so upset before..." June frowned, "But anyway, we watched the security footage when we got here, and it was... pretty terrifying... They tore the place apart looking for any sign of the resistance. One of them even suggested burning the place down when they didn't find anything..." She explained. Seeing the all of this play out had obviously been anything but pleasant.

"Oh." Kai said, the realization of how much the disappearance of him and his friends had impacted Ninjago suddenly striking him much harder than it had before. He'd known it'd been tough on Nya and Lloyd, but it was clear that Skylor and her employees were just as affected. He should've checked in on them sooner...

"Yeah, but we'll get through it. I mean, the worst of it is over now that we have all of you back and Garmadon behind bars. You should see how hard everyone's been working. I know we all adore Skylor, because she's an amazing person, but it's so encouraging to see all of them come together to help her like this." June told him, smiling optimistically.

"She is amazing." The master of fire agreed softly, thinking back to his earlier conversation with her.

"Have you been able to visit her?" She inquired.

"I... Yes, every day... And just before I came here, actually." Kai informed her.

"H-how is she?" Came the anxious, but hopeful response. He paused for a moment, not quite sure how to describe her current state.

"She's… Well… She was awake for a little while this morning, so that's a good sign…"

"But?" June finished for him, somehow picking up on his uncertainty.

"Skylor and pain meds are an… interesting combination. She was really out of it and said some stuff that was definitely… unexpected… but do I blame her? No… I mean… She didn't know…" Rambled the master of fire awkwardly. June nodded sagely.

"She told you she was in love with you."

"Uh…? Yeah, she did, and it caught me totally off guard and I'm not sure if- Oh… Why am I even telling you this?" He muttered, massaging his temples.

"Kai, can I ask you something?" She asked, motioning for him to follow her.

"Yeah, sure, I guess?" Kai joined her at one of the booths that was still intact. Chad slipped into the booth as well, obviously curious about whatever it was that June was about to ask.

"When you and Skylor so clearly have feelings for each other, why are you still awkwardly dancing around each other instead of asking her out? I figured you would've started dating a long time ago…"

"I…" He sighed, an unreadable expression crossing his face, "It's complicated..."

"Welcome to Ninjago, Kai. In case you somehow missed it, everything here is complicated." Chad observed, looking at the master of fire like he was a world-class idiot. His fiancée elbowed him gently.

"Everyone has a few hiccups in their lives, sure… but you shouldn't let that prevent you from being with the person you love." June stated wisely.

"It just never felt like the right time, you know?" He told them, not meeting their eyes, "We always had so much on our plates… from the moment she got here, Skylor had to deal with everything that came with suddenly having an entire culinary empire thrust on her and I didn't feel like I could add more to her plate by asking for a relationship… and then Morro happened, and everything else, and I didn't want to hurt her if something happened and my duties interfered with things so I…" June and Chad glanced at each other, then at Kai. The bespectacled young lady chose her words carefully, knowing that someone needed to give him some perspective on this situation.

"Look. As your friend, I'm going to be honest with you, here. I know right now it feels like life will never calm down, like it's just one crazy thing after another, especially for someone like you who has to carry far more responsibility than is really fair… but if there's one thing I've learned over the past couple of years, it's that there's no such thing as a perfect moment, and that if you keep on waiting for one," She eyed him meaningfully as she continued, "You'll come to regret it one day because you'll have missed out on a lot of incredible things."

"I…" The master of fire bit his lip, realization hitting him hard. June was right, and deep down, he had already known that. What had he been thinking?

"Just… talk to her... Skylor loves you, Kai. She has for a long time. She'll understand." She advised encouragingly.

"You're right... I've put this off for long enough. The next time I visit the hospital, I'll tell her everything." Kai determined, doing his best to look confident. It was time for him to do what he should've done a long time ago. Suddenly a future with the girl of his dreams didn't seem like such an unrealistic possibility.

[flwrpotts]

time to pretend

when they tell her, the first thing she does is laugh.

it’s a friday night and the bonne nuit is turning a brisk business, josie sending her voice into shattering highs and thrilling lows while reggie serves overpriced mocktails, kicked up to the real thing for those who know how to ask. veronica’s in a good mood, the best she’s been in in a long time, flirting with patrons behind the bar in her sequined dress and winking at reggie when he catches her eye, looking like something from a fitzgerald novel in the dim lighting of the room.

there’s a mostly decorative old fashioned phone behind the bar, a sleek black thing that reminds her of the princess phone she’d had on her bedside table as a child. she turns, surprised, when it rings suddenly, the sound distracting in all the ambiance of the room.

“hello?” she asks into the receiver, half laughing as she watches a tipsy freshman try to tip reggie a five dollar bill like one would a stripper.

“is this ms. veronica lodge?” asks a voice, serious and masculine, like a detective out of a noir movie. she can picture a man behind a desk, a cigar between white teeth, a problem that needs solving.

“it is,” she says slowly. “might i ask what this is about?” “this is detective mulwray with the canadian police. you were listed as the emergency contact for mr. archibald andrews?” veronica’s mouth goes dry. the tangled mix of fear and panic and relief- archie is found, archie is coming home, archie is safe- curls up through her mind like cigarette smoke, leaving her lightheaded.

“where is he?” she demands. “is he alright?” “ms. lodge, i am so sorry to have to tell you this, but there was an incident involving a bear-”

there’s a lot more after that, things like succumbed to his injuries at 6:24 am and did everything they could and a real tragedy, but veronica does not hear them. her brain is a faulty record player, rewinding and playing that first sentence over and over again.

she starts to laugh before she can stop herself. it’s not funny, but some part of it is, a fucking bear, after everything, after he had survived every single thing her father had thrown his way. a bear. she claps a hand over her mouth to hide it, but the hysterical giggles don’t stop, just become more manic until the sound is indistinguishable from sobbing.

archie is dead. archie died. something about it is so god damned funny, made funnier by the gold locket around her neck, the love that tethers her to him like two cans with a string between them, a connection that exists even when they’re in two different worlds.

she realizes suddenly that the detective is still speaking to her on the phone, that josie has stopped singing and is looking at her oddly, that there are tears all down her face and she is making an awful, keening sound, desperate and inhuman.

“ms. lodge, please, there are other matters-” and then reggie is front of her, handsome face struck with worry, warm hand on her elbow.

“veronica, what is it?” he’s asking, voice blurry like he’s underwater. “veronica, what is wrong?” she presses her hands up to her face, feeling the makeup run slick and black between her fingers from where it’s mingled with saltwater. the phone drops from her hand, bounces merrily on the coiled cord a few times before reggie picks up, talking urgently into the speaker.

she can’t hear anything still, everything whiting out around her, but she watches as reggie’s face changes, as he goes dead pale and runs a hand through his hair and just holds it there, wrist threaded through with clear blue veins.

“everyone needs to leave!” josie says, ridiculous in her glittering dress and fingerwaves, shooing people out the front door. “we are closed for the evening.” there’s a couple serpents working security inside and they help her, menacing out the lingering partygoers with their leather jackets and dark looks. the room finally clears as reggie finishes up the call, hunched over with his face in his hands, not crying but close enough it doesn’t matter.

veronica’s still laughing a little, hands over her eyes, like she’ll pull back and it’ll be a different world behind her fingers.

“he’s really dead?” she asks, just in case she heard wrong, and reggie nods weakly, hands shaking badly enough for her to notice.

veronica stumbles over her heels the two steps it takes to reach him and then his arms are up around her and then they are sinking down to the floor, a tangle of limbs on the tile like little kids, sobbing and starving and completely, entirely lost.

x

reggie finds her upstairs after, sitting on the floor of her tiny attic bedroom. the urgency is still stunning him, the looping instinct to punch something, kick down the door, haul archie back from the dead with the sheer weight of his own want. he’s reminded strangely of the hysterical days after jason’s death, the panicky grief and strange hollowness, an emptiness so deep he could feel it ricochet through his skull.

veronica is curled up on the hardwood, her silky black sheets pooled around her like arterial blood. she’s drunk- he can see it in the hazy, miserable cast to her face, the ash of mascara smudged across the highest point in her cheekbone. she smiles crookedly when she sees him, a painful, cracked open thing, and he lingers awkwardly in the doorway, not knowing whether he’s invited inside.

“drink?” she asks, and sloshes the bottle of top-shelf whisky into an antique teacup before handing it off to him. reggie swallows in one go, and then crouches to sit beside her on the floor. the hardwood is cool in the blistering heat of the room and splintered with age, not muffling the sound of disturbance below.

veronica tops his drink off and then swallows her own in one go, jaw set like she’s going to find answers in the bottom of the cup. she doesn’t say anything else, and reggie lets the alcohol slide him messily into silence, observing the tiny room, so hot from the trapped heat that the air shimmers at the corners.

there’s no bed, just a mattress on the floor covered in a tangle of expensive sheets, makeshift nightstand next to it crammed with an overflowing ashtray and a stack of dostoevsky novels. there’s no curtains, so she’s tacked up silk slips over the windows, letting in hazy, abstract patches of light. the nicest thing in the room is the gleaming garment rack in the corner, holding up her sequined dresses and cigarette pants and collared blouses.

it’s a room strangely suited to veronica, her stubborn streak and her opulent tastes and cruel, mannered charm. the secondhand thrift store books and designer clothes, forgotten mugs of cold coffee and half drained bottle of whisky, her gleaming, ostentatious jewelry tangled up in an empty cocktail glass she stole from downstairs.

veronica interrupts his fragmented thoughts by setting her teacup down heavily, sloshing the last of the alcohol onto the floor. she’s still wearing her cocktail dress and it glitters in the dim light of the room, draws attention to her rumpled hair and bare feet.

“fuck all these perfect people,” she says, and reggie has no idea what she’s talking about, but also does, in some strange, sad way. the two of them were never quite meant for riverdale, washed out football star with the dead best friend and the ex-heiress with a skewed sense of morality and poison touch.

veronica clambers into his lap, her fingers cold and clammy on his neck. the room is unbearably hot but she’s shivering, teeth clattering when he slides a hand up her thigh, fingers catching in the tiny gaps of her fishnets.

his chest is a shipwreck. it’s unforgivable, that he still wants her with archie in a bodybag hundreds of miles away, his childhood sometimes nemesis and always friend. impossible that it is not enough to make him stop being in love with her, chest bloody and throat raw, nothing like the rom coms his older cousins would make him watch as a kid.

she smells like whisky and perfume and salt when he leans in to kiss her, twisting his fingers in her soft, dark hair. “ronnie,” he whispers, and feels her flinch against him.

“don’t call me that,” she says quietly as she closes the gap between them, and after that he doesn’t call her anything at all.

x

the funeral is arranged quickly and without ceremony, a private service at riverdale presbyterian. veronica steps inside in her black dress and her stomach immediately turns as she catches the blown up portrait at the front of the room, archie in his letterman jacket looking handsome and happy and young forever.

the choir is helmed by josie, and in any other circumstance she’d make a quip about asleep being more than a little passe as a choice in song, but now it burns at her, makes her blink hard against the tears threatening to fall. a crying girl is either easy sympathy or brutal weakness and she doesn’t want either right now, not in front of these friendly sad people. there’s a better world, josie sings, voice glassine and thin, and veronica hopes like hell that she’s right.

betty and jughead are clustered together in the front of the room, leaning against one another like two trees grown together, and she aches for that sort of closeness, the sort that she used to have in a different time, a better time. betty looks exhausted, bruises feathering the thin skin around her eyes and a weariness to her posture that veronica doesn’t recognize. jughead doesn’t look much better, beanie pulled low around his head and misery pulling his face tight.

veronica shuffles awkwardly into the processional line, watching as people give fred and mary their sympathies like children tossing coins in a fountain, making shining false wishes. fred smiles tiredly when he sees her, but mary eyes her suspiciously, blame pooling in the corners of her stiff smile. veronica feels it as keenly as if she’d been slapped and says nothing at all. she has nothing to offer them except her own failings, all the tiny places she made the wrong choice.

and then she’s in front of the casket, archie lying dead in front of her. the red of his hair is garish against his unnaturally pale skin, three angry pink scratches peaking up out of the collar of his button-down.

it still doesn’t feel real. she cannot wrap her brain around archie, archie, being dead, her golden boy with the guitar and the football trophies and the easy love she always thought was some sort of fantasy. it’s impossible that he can be gone, can just disappear with nothing besides that final phone call, the one she told herself was real but always secretly believed to be just one more obstacle, the long slide through the desert before the boy prince returned to his kingdom.

she is standing there with her arms curled around herself and the wind knocked clean out of her and she would start a war, burn down a city, do anything, anything at all, to get it all back, all the dumb precious moments she didn’t appreciate until they were gone.

archie throwing a beat up tennis ball for vegas, archie blowing out the candles of a birthday cake, archie strumming at his guitar. working on a car, eating ceral, unhooking her bra, failing a test, playing video games, eating a burger, all of it.

there is nothing elegant about this pain, nothing romantic, nothing noble. there’s nothing but the filthy, wrenching ache that blisters at her, her father’s rage simmering in her throat. she wants to laugh. she wants to die. she wants him back, his skin warm against hers and smile pressed to her spine. she wants to be anything that is not this moment, this time, this open blackhole of grief shattering the planets of her ego. there is nothing else.

x

veronica comes back from the funeral with the remnants of cigarette smoke and mourning flowers clinging to her hair. her pallor has become almost bruised lately, like something’s been wringing her out from the inside and leaving marks behind. it hurts for reggie to look at her, like staring directly at an eclipse.

she walks tiredly into le bonne nuit, gone pallid and empty in the light of day, and slumps over at one of the bar stools. she folds her hands into a steeple-like she’s praying, even though he knows better than to think that’s what she’s doing.

she looks so different than the self-assured princess that used to walk the hallways of riverdale high like she could tip the world with just a look. with all her gloss and polish stripped away veronica lodge is an awful lot like a teenage girl, raw and aching, a begging to be believed.

“want to get fucked up?” he asks, because it’s all he can offer. he isn’t good for very much and his father never lets him forget it, but he’s got an endless supply of booze and pills, magic tricks to make the world go numb.

veronica seems to think about it for a second before she nods. “i just want to forget,” she says, and reggie claws around his back pocket until two perfectly round pills emerge. he hands one to her and takes the other, watching as the car crash blue pill dissolves with a swallow of vodka.

time goes sideways after that, shatters like a baseball bat to bone. they drink and drink and drink, like a fist to teeth, like lightning splitting a tree in half, like snow burying the suburbs until there are nothing left. they get plastered like it’s a race to the bottom of a cliff, falling from tipsy to drunk to incoherent, incapable of doing anything.

he has no idea how they end up in a club, only that suddenly he’s watching veronica sob in the neon flash of the strobe lights, shiny tears going acid green and bubblegum pink. he has a hazy half-memory of doing coke in the bathroom earlier, a couple shaky lines before a hysterically giggling veronica dragged him back out by the wrist.

reggie tries to find her hand in the messy tangle of limbs, and she collapses into him, sending them unsteadily into the ground, knocking over a tray of empties along the way. they’re both crying in the glittery mess of shattered glass and blood, everything flashing under the lights, and then security is hauling them up with muttered swears, pushing them out the door and into the cold night air with strict orders not to come back.

veronica stumbles tipsily for a half step before falling, knees bloody when she scrapes them on the pavement. reggie can’t stop laughing, like a sickness, high and frantic and feverish, and after a minute veronica joins in, just as unhinged. there are weird flickers at the corner of his vision, and for a second he swears he can see jason, disappearing around the edge of an alley.

the sun is coming up, glowing orange at the edge of distant buildings. reggie takes the tab of ecstasy he had stuck in the back of his wallet and lets everything disappear again.

x

they sleep like much younger children, or perhaps castaways, reggie crying in his sleep with the ceiling fan going overhead, both of them clinging to one another under sheets that need to be washed, the trapped heat of the attic almost unbearable.

veronica has strange nightmares, fueled by the candy-colored pills reggie dissolves on her tongue and the neverending spill of alcohol, rum with dry toast for breakfast and sloppy bloody mary’s in the afternoon and tequila when the sunlight starts to thicken. there’s no one around to make them go to school, so they just stop, spend days fucking around in the shell of the bonne nuit, making out on the bar when they get high enough to forget one another’s faces.

reggie snorts lines of fizzle rocks to make her laugh about kiddie drugs and she decides to forget about everything else, about school and work and debts and obligation. she’ll do this until the drugs and bad decisions finally do her the favor of killing her this time. there’s a strange liberation to it. she doesn’t have to try to claw her way into being a good person anymore, doesn’t have to live up to expectations, doesn’t have to do anything that isn’t what she wants.

the nights are worse. veronica dreams betty’s face peeling off and archie’s there behind it, her father with a bullet in his forehead and melted gold dripping instead of blood, the whole world falling to seizure and convulsing on the floor. she wakes up with tears on her cheeks and then she’s thrust into another nightmare, reggie crying beside her with jason’s name caught in between his teeth and sweat beading her forehead.

it’s a miracle when they’re both able to sleep, snatched hours in between the last haze of drunkenness and the brutal set of her hangovers, barely felt before she’s chasing them with the hair of the dog.

people call at first, betty and her mother and even jughead, once, but veronica doesn’t reply. they’re searching for a girl who was never really there, a carefully crafted illusion that she is too tired to pretend to be.

(maybe it was real, once. a few times. in coat closet at a party she wasn’t invited to. on archie’s doorstep with the stupid, embarrassing love stringing out their sentences. at a lake filled with clean blue water and now-broken promises.)

“veronica,” reggie murmurs, drunk and tired, curled up with his eyes closed. “let’s go live on the moon.” she laughs and says “of course,” because she’s already followed him to hell and never made it back, and they plan out the whole thing, how they’ll steal the couches from the common room at riverdale to watch all the dead stars. his body next to hers is a miracle that bursts at the underside of her jaw, a miracle in a world where all the miracles have died.

x

she’s sitting on the edge of the bar with her feet propped up on the stool, drinking a gin and tonic as she watches reggie count bills, the last of their money from the bonne nuit.

“it’s been three months,” she says, because the thought has been swimming around her head all day and she needs to get it out, needs to purge herself of the thought. veronica watches as reggie stiffens, as the muscles in his shoulders go tense for a moment.

“it feels like it was yesterday,” he says.

the song changes, something slow and sad echoing in the acoustics of the room, and he puts down the fan of bills, slowly makes his way over to her.

reggie looks at her for a moment, like he’s trying to decide something, and then slowly, slowly, offers her his hand. she takes it, looking at him curiously as he pulls her up to stand.

he smooths her hair away from her neck, reaching back to gently unhook the locket around her neck, the only possession she cares for anymore. veronica wants to scream, wants to hit him, wants to burst into tears, but he puts it gently down on the bar and then takes her hand again, pulling her onto the makeshift dancefloor.

they swing their arms between them a few times, like children, and then he spins her clumsily, twisting her arm to duck underneath it and startling a laugh out of her. he’s so present, the universe would die of sunstroke if there were any more of him. veronica realizes it suddenly and terribly, as she steps on his feet and he dips her almost far enough to drop her, that she loves him, that she needs him like she needs blood and organ and tissue. she loves his cowardice and his brokenness and his arrogance like she does the small, tender pieces that emerge at the oddest of moments.

they’re sashaying around, laughing wildly, and then her face is pressed into his neck and his arms are around her and they are both crying a little bit, out of breath.

“i love you, you know?” he says, and she laughs.

she loves him too. and she doesn’t think it matters. but she wishes it did.

[gayfanfictor]

Serpent’s Game Pt 1 (Toni Topaz x Fem! Reader)

Summary: When the Southside Serpents come to Riverdale High, as a former Serpent you want to be friends with the gang like you used to be but things don’t work out how you want. Reggie suggests dating Toni to get your old relationship with the gang back but she finds out and things take a turn for the worse. (3,959 words) 

Serpent’s Game Pt 2

It had been two years since you left the Serpents and the Southside. During a gang battle, you had your hand cut badly by a switchblade when you had decided to defend Joaquin from a dangerous blade by grabbing a hold of it. The cut had almost rendered your hand useless. Luckily you could still use your hand but at times it would freeze up or start occasionally twitching at random. After this, your parents were worried about the gang activity and did everything they did to get you and them out of the Southside. And so you were forced to cut your ties with the Southside as well. And you were shocked to find the Southside Serpents finding their way to Riverdale. There were a few new members you hadn’t seen before but you definitely recognized their jackets.

“[Y/N]!” Sweet Pea jumps on you which surprises everyone. Everyone seemed to forget how you were originally part of the Southside Serpents due to your passive demeanor and kindness. Though it wasn’t always like that. Only the kindness of Betty was you able to convert to an ordinary student at Riverdale.

“Sweet Pea!” you laugh and he tries to get you to give him a piggy ride. You clutch at his legs happily.

“Hey, Jones! Meet [Y/N].” Sweet Pea chuckles, “This sucker use to be one of us too before the Ghoulies screwed her over.” he growls while ruffling, your once neat hair. You smile at the raven-headed boy and he nods at you with a smile.

“Jughead Jones,” he says and you nod.

“I know, Be-” suddenly you can’t carry Sweet Pea’s weight anymore and he falls sideways off your back, dragging you down along with him.

“What was that, [Y/N]?” Sweet Pea grumbles, rubbing the back of his head.

“Sorry, Sweet Pea,” you grimace, trying to flex your cut hand which was all of a sudden feeling weak. “I- I just slipped.” you laugh, shoving your hand into your pocket.

“Are you alright?” a petite girl with pink-streaked hair questions, offering you a hand. 

“Yeah, thanks.” you smile at the girl who grins back at you. “I hadn’t seen you in the Southside Serpents when I was around,” you say and get up yourself before dusting yourself off. Sweet Pea tries to take the girl’s offer for help but the girl drops her hand before he can.

“Toni Topaz.” she grins and you nod with a smile. “You don’t seem like you’re a Serpent.” she tilts her head with a puzzled smile, “At least not anymore,” she sends you a lopsided smile and you chuckle sheepishly.

“Guess not anymore,” you mutter, rubbing the back of your neck. Her words stung for some reason. You were completely happy with your life currently but somehow the return of the Serpents made you uneasy and Toni’s words, though meaning no harm, seemed to be questioning your relationships with the Serpent’s and Riverdale. She smiles at you before Sweet Pea swings his arm around her shoulder.

“Well, see you around, [Y/N].” Sweet Pea grins and the Serpents begin to leave.

“Wait up guys, I’ll help you get around the school.” you offer with a smile which causes Sweet Pea to laugh.

“Nah, we don’t wanna ruin your good rep, here,” he flashes you a lopsided smile. “We’re good, [Y/N].” he pats you on the shoulder roughly almost knocking you over.

“It’s alright, [Y/N]. I can take over from here.” Jughead smiles at you and leads the group off.

“Aren’t you glad to see your old friends again?” Betty smiles and touches your shoulder delicately. You shove your hand into your pocket and flash her a smile.

“I don’t know,” you mumble. Betty is worried by your hesitant response.

“Well, make sure to help them out if they don’t know where their classes are or what not,” she says, squeezing your shoulder and you nod.

“I know,” you smile at Betty to reassure her but she knows you were still anxious about the Serpents, after all, it was impossible to ignore your habits of stuffing your hurt hand in your pocket when you were nervous. It was something you picked up when you first came to the school. You were so embarrassed about the scar on your hand and how the tremors you had that you frequently would put it in your pocket.

Over the week, you kept trying to speak to Sweet Pea or anyone with the Southside Serpents. The only ones who spoke with you were Jughead and Toni. Both of them were really nice but you couldn’t help but be intimidated by Jughead’s position in the Serpents. As King of the Serpents, you didn’t want to do anything that made your image worse. So you ended up hanging out with Toni more. The lack of attention from any of your former friends saddened you as well as puzzled you. You didn’t understand why they were all ignoring you. Meanwhile, all the other Riverdale students were trying to get you to join their side. “Hey, [Y/N].” Reggie grins, blocking your way by placing his hand on your locker.

“What is it now, Reggie?” you raise an eyebrow with a sigh.

“Nothing, its just that every day I see you desperately trying to ‘befriend’ the Serpents.” he chuckles. You purse your lips and his smile widens. “I’ve got a proposal for you.” he grins, crossing his arms and leaning against your locker. “You know your sweet blonde friend? Betty’s girlfriends with the stupid gang leader.” he rolls his eyes. “But looks like she’s more friends with the Serpents than you are.” he chuckles.

“What’s your point, Reggie? I don’t understand what you want.” you sigh, reaching for your locker. He smacks your hand away and leans closer to you.

“I’m just saying maybe you should try doing what she’s doing,” he smirks. “I’ve got the perfect candidate for you too.” he leans back seeing he had piqued your interests. “That pink haired girl from the Serpents. I’m pretty sure she likes you too, I mean she’s the only one who’ll talk to you. Jughead just talks to you because you’re a friend of Betty’s.” Noticing Veronica walking over he pulls himself off your locker. “I’ll help you if you agree.” he smiles. “See you later,” he chuckles and walks off before he and Veronica can get into a fight.

“What did he want?” Veronica asks as you unlock your locker.

“I don’t really know. He wanted to make a deal with me or something.” you frown, shrugging as you take out a couple of your books and shove it into your backpack.

“Oh please, don’t try an make a deal with the devil.” she scoffs and you don’t say anything. “Don’t tell me you’re actually considering it?” she asks, shocked by your silence.

“I might because I’m at my wits end here.” you close your locker and click the lock.

“Well, what’s your problem?” she asks and you shrug while pushing your hand into your pocket. This concerns Veronica and you walk past her. You were not going to admit something so stupid and embarrassing to Veronica. You didn’t think she could understand even if she knew. Ever since she came to Riverdale, everything came to her naturally. By the first month, she was already dating Archie and everyone knew her for good or for worse. Then soon enough she had befriended Betty who had a crush on Archie. It seemed like despite anything she did, everything would be fine. It’s as if her actions had no consequences in the long run.

Over the course school, you had thought about Reggie’s offer and not knowing what to do really, you decided to agree with Reggie’s plan. You knew it was wrong but what other choice did you have? You weren’t brave enough to just ask Sweet Pea what the problem was nor were you willing to force yourself into their group. Plus you were going to confuse everyone with who’s side you were one. The school had been pretty split whether they were going to socially accept the Serpents or not. “Wow, you actually came,” Reggie chuckles. “You must really like the girl.” he raises an eyebrow in which you blush in response.

“I don’t mind,” you smile sheepishly which causes him to laugh.

“Thought you had the hots for her.” he smiles. “Anyways, what you’ve gotta do first is ask out Toni. Of course, she’s got to first of all except and second of all like it and be okay for a second one,” he says. “That’s the hardest part.” he grins at you. “Think you can woo your lady?” he questions. You shrug your hand trembling as you do so. Reggie sighs, “Alright, first of all, you’ve got find out what kind of people she like.” he says, patting your shoulder. “So what I’m thinking is, invite her over and watch one of her favorite movies or shows and get her to tell you about her favorite character and why,” he says. “Or ask her to talk about her past exes. That one's a bit tricky.” he grimaces and glances over at you. “Got it?” he asks and you nod. “In fact, text her now that you’re going to meet up with her,” he says. 

“She doesn’t have a phone.” you cross your arms.

“Then get her one.” he rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’m going to test you on details tomorrow so you better be ready.”

“What is the point of this again, Reggie?” you narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“The point is for you to befriend the Serpents. If I ask you to do anything weird you can back out if you want.” he frowns, leaning forward towards you menacingly. “Nothing weird so far right?” he asks with a smirk, leaning back against the table. You sigh, shaking your head. “Cool, now go on with it.” he waves his hand. “Ask her as soon as possible or else she’ll be taken away,” he adds and you sigh.

“Sure, Reggie,” you say before leaving. Once you left the school you found Betty waiting for you outside.

“Hey [Y/N],” she smiles hesitantly. You smile back at her.

“What’s up, Betts?” you ask, jumping off the stairs by threes.

“Well, Ronnie told me that Reggie was bothering you today,” she says tentatively which causes you to wave it off.

“It’s cool Betts, I’m going over to Toni’s so I’ll walk you home and then leave. You cool with that?” you grin, tapping your backpack strap. Betty nods and the two of you leave to her house.

“How’s it going with Toni?” Betty converses and you clear your throat nervously, shoving your hands deep into your pockets.

“Fine,” you say, keeping your voice as even as possible and Betty laughs.

“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met which is saying something because according to Ronnie I’m the worst liar.” she chuckles and your face grows warm.

“It really is fine, Betts!” you say defensively. “I’m just,” you clear your throat, groping at your inner pocket. “I’m going to ask Toni out, someday” you confess, muttering the last word.

“That’s great, [Y/N]! I’ve been waiting for this day.” she grins and you frown.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“Come on, you don’t think I’ve noticed?” Betty nudges your arm playfully which puzzles you even more. Betty frowns at how confused you are. “Am I wrong, or have not noticed? Then why are you asking her out? Or am I taking it the wrong way?” she frowns.

“I, what? How does it look like I have a crush on her?” you ask. Betty sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Knowing you, you won’t admit it so when you see Toni look out for these three things.” Betty grins and you nod at her, watching her list them off her fingers. “First, you can’t help smile when you’re with her.” she grins. “Even when you think of her, you can’t help but smile.”

“No, I don’t,” you say, blushing but Betty just smiles at you watching a smile creeps up your face. “God, what is wrong with me,” you mumble with a bashful smile while covering your mouth.

“Second, you get really nervous when she touches or closes in on you. You like to shove your hands in your pocket, particularly your injured one. Sometimes you end up tapping your fingers if you’re really nervous or excited.” she grins as you force your hands out your pockets. “You didn’t think I would know your habits after being best friends with you for two years?” she grins, cocking her brow and you sigh in defeat.

“Fine, what’s the last one,” you mumble and Betty drops her hand.

“That’s a secret, I don’t want you going out of your way to cover your cute habits around Toni,” she smiles softly. “Maybe Toni can help you answer the last one,” she says, touching your arm. “Thanks for walking me home, [Y/N].” she grins and pats your arm. “Good luck,” she says and opens the door.

“Betts, what’s the last one?” you call out but she just gives you a playfully smile and closes the door. “Shoot, how am I going to talk to her now?” you grumble, scratching your head. Reggie was going to test you tomorrow and with Betty saying you were the worst liar you might as well invite Toni over to your house. You found her with at the White Wrym and you didn’t know how you’d confront her while she was working. You cursed at yourself for asking Betty what was revealing your crush on her. Now you were trying to do everything you could not to reveal your stupid habits. Finally settling down, you turn your back on the bar to calm yourself. Taking a deep breath you turn around and walk over to the bar. You wanted to hit yourself. You had taken so long, Toni had long noticed you, though you hadn’t noticed her starring yourself. Sitting down at the end of the table, and close your eyes to ready yourself.

“Hey, what’s up, [Y/N]?” a familiar voice chimes. Your hand immediately shoots into your pockets and you smile sheepishly up at the pink-haired girl.

“Hey, Toni.” you mutter. “When is your shift over?” you ask, drumming your fingers on the table impatiently. You glance over at FP who was serving the others.

“Well, not until nine,” she glances at the clock and you nod, looking at the clock as well.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to come over today,” you smile. “If you’re not too tired that is.”

“For what? A sleepover?” she chuckles.

“Well,” you purse your lips and she raises her hand to stop you.

“Sorry, I’ll talk to you during my break.” she flashes you a smile and leaves. You nod and once she’s gone you finally notice your fingers drumming against the table and your hidden hand. You groan and put a stop to your old habits. You watch the time, craving and dreading when her break would come.

“Hey, how you doing?” FP finally notices you and decides to greet you.

“FP!” you can’t help but smile.

“Sorry about what the Ghoulies did to you.” he frowns, his fist clenching on the table edges until his knuckles paled.

“It’s cool, FP.” you smile softly at the man who raises his eyebrow.

“You’ve changed,” he says, not really clarifying if it was for the better or for the worse. You twist your ring uneasily and he glances down at your hand. “How’s your hand?” he nods in the direction of your injured hand. You unfold your palm to reveal a scar that ran from a few centimeters below where your pinky ended across to under your index finger. FP grimaces, “Heard your hand’s still acting up?” he looks up at you from under his brows and you nod.

“Yeah, occasionally but usually when I strain my fingers or whatnot,” you explain and he nods. Suddenly you retract your hand from the table and smile behind FP’s shoulder. “Toni! Is it your break yet?” you ask. FP raises a brow and leans back from the table to allow Toni through.

“What were you two talking about?” Toni grins, “Palm reading?” she raises an eyebrow and you can’t help but smile at how charming it made her look. 

“Actually-” FP starts but you quickly cut him off.

“No, he was just looking at my ring.” you smile softly and FP cocks an eyebrow at you before pushing himself off the table.

“Well, I’ll just let you guys talk. Don’t forget to get back to work after 10.” he waves and Toni nods.

“Got it,” she calls back and she looks back at you with a grin. “So, what’s up with that ring?” she asks. “Can I see it?” she asks, glancing over the counter.

“Sure,” you beam at her, pulling off the ring and handing it to her.

“Wow, cool,” she grins looking up at you and then back at the ring. She tries it on and grins. “Where’d you get it from?” she asks, handing it back to you. Your hands brush and you fumble with the ring and end up dropping it. You bend down to grab it. You frown as you do so, flexing your good hand, confused as to why you had trouble grasping the ring.

“Sorry,” you smile goofily at her and she laughs. “Fangs was the one who gave it to me,” you grin, putting on the ring and twisting. “After the fight with the Ghoulies,” you shut your mouth, pursing your lips. You weren’t sure if you wanted her to know about your shameful scar. “I left the Serpents and um, Fangs gave me the ring so I wouldn’t forget them. Obviously, I couldn’t.” you chuckle, pulling your hand to your chest and Toni smiles softly.

“That’s sweet.” she grins and you nod. “So, after my shift, I’m coming over to your house right?” she grins, leaning forward on her elbows. “What’s up, have your parents gone out for the night?” she asks flirtatiously. 

“Yeah, and I was wondering if you’d like to watch a movie with me.” you smile bashfully, not completely understanding what she had just done. Toni sighs with a smile.

“Well, I’ll be there.” she grins and you nod enthusiastically.

After her shift, you walked Toni to your house and you did what Reggie had suggested. You pretty much interrogated her the entire and she was amused at the number of questions you asked. “Are we going to watch the movie or not? I could just tell you the whole plot if you really want.” she laughs and you shake your head.

“No, it’s fine.” you smile tightly and shut your mouth the rest of the movie. Turns out watching a movie wasn’t the best option to socialize with Toni after all, your attention fully on the screen the rest of the time.

An hour in, Toni began resting her head on your shoulder which caused you to break your attention from the screen. You were spinning your ring around your finger like crazy. Glancing over you realize she was barely awake and you wipe your palms on your clothes. Why hadn’t you noticed she was tired from work? You wait until her breathing grew even and you set down her gently. Obviously, it was impossible to do so without waking her up. “Sorry, [Y/N], I’m just a little tired.” she smiles weakly and you smile back, worried.

“It’s alright, Toni, I just don’t want you sleeping on the couch,” you mutter. Toni nods groggily and gets up. You accompany her to your room and you pull off her boots before getting her settled into your bed. “Sorry, Toni,” you mumble, patting the blanket. “I’m going to turn off the TV, sleep well,” you say with a small smile. She hums tiredly back and you leave and close the door quietly on your way out. Turning off the TV, you get on the couch yourself and try to get some sleep, hoping Sweet Pea and Fangs could be your friends again soon.

The next day you report to Reggie what had happened and he is majorly disappointed in you until he forces you to explain everything that happened and you add the part about your parents being out. He was stoked to hear that and set up your next date with Toni. Before you knew it the Sweet Pea and Fangs and the rest of the gang had warmed up to you. Like Reggie said, it happened soon after the two of you were going out. Not only were you dating Toni and friends with the Southside Serpents but your new best friend had suddenly become Reggie. Over the course, it turns out he was actually a really nice fellow and he was quite experienced in swooning girls as well. Unfortunately, the rest of the school didn’t take it well. They were spreading strange rumors around about you and Toni. They were angry about you taking the sides of the Serpent which angered Toni. “She’s not taking anyone’s side.” Toni defends, angry at Kevin for accusing you of such things. Suddenly guilt hits you. The reason why you had started to go for Toni was that you were desperate for the Serpent’s approval. You grimace at her words.

“Please just stop, Toni.” you touch her hand gently. Toni glares daggers into Kevin and plops down, arms crossed, beside you with a huff.

“Well, I do recall Reggie scheming a plan where [Y/N] was to date you to get back into the Serpents.” Betty mumbles, her dissatisfaction towards your relationship Reggie manifesting in spite. But immediately after saying so, she regretted it.

“That’s not true,” Toni frowns, folding her arms, doing her best to ignore Betty’s words but she couldn’t. She knew Betty was a bad liar and she could tell that she wasn’t lying. You were shocked at how Betty had gained this information and you hated to lie to Toni but you didn’t want to lose the Southside Serpents.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Betty.” you mutter, unable to look anyone in the eye. Betty is shocked by your words and she shakes her head.

“Don’t lie to me, [Y/N].” Toni snaps harshly and you close your eyes guiltily.

“I’m not,” you grumble and she just stares at you silently.

“You are, you’re the worst liar ever. And even if I didn’t know you were lying, Betty sure wasn’t,” she says angrily. “Why would you lie to me?” she glares at you and you fumble with your ring in your pocket, unwilling to look her in the eye. “You know what? People may think what you just did was because you were a Serpent but I know that it wasn’t because you were a Serpent. It was because you were a terrible person.” she stands up angrily. “And what really sucks is that I can’t see you as a terrible person.” her voice shakes. “I want to believe you were a good person who just made a terrible mistake but,” she shakes her head, silent tears fall down her face which startles you.

“Toni,” you stand up but she wipes her tears away.

“I’m sorry, I just need to think this over,” she mumbles and leaves. The room grows dreadfully silent. 

Your eyes stung from hurting Toni. How messed up could you be? Blinking away the tears, you leave the school, hoping this would end well. Even if things ended badly, you just hoped that Toni would be happy in the end. At least she deserved it.

[my-chemical-friendzone]

Ask Jane’s Creator (Part XII)

What are those codes that Jane and Dragon are trying to solve?

-From Rose, 8, North Carolina, USA

The codes are dragon runes, or dragon language. Dragon has been collecting anything with runes on it in the hope that it will help him unlock the truth about dragons. He wants to know the full truth, not the stories he hears from shortlives. Most of all he wants to know what happened to dragons and he hopes the runes will help to reveal the past and solve all those mysteries.

Do Pepper, Rake, Smithy, and Jester have family members that work at the castle?

-From Blair, 13, USA

There is now a lot of new information about the characters on the Meet the Cast page! It will tell you all about their families and where they live. For instance, Smithy is the son of a local pig farmer, and his family still live on a small pig farm not far from the castle.

Why does dragon talk to Jane so much?

-From Marquise, 9, Georgia, USA

For three hundred years, Dragon kept himself a secret from the world. He's spied on shortlives, learnt their languages, and tried to understand them. But the few times that he revealed himself he always got into trouble and was attacked...Then he met Jane! At last he found someone who wasn't scared of him and didn't want to kill him. Someone he could talk to. And he has three hundred years of talking to get out of his system!

Who is Jane's father? Will you ever show him on any of the episodes?

-From Julianne, 9, New Jersey, USA

Jane's father is the King's Chamberlain. He runs the castle staff and tries to keep the King's treasury from running out of money. He appears in several episodes, and one in particular where he gets so worried by something that happens to Jane that he gets right into the action himself.

Why is Jane's hair so fluffy?

-From Avery, 10

It's just the way it grows! Her mother, The Lady-In-Waiting, wants Jane to use bows and clips to control it like a proper young lady of the Court. You can imagine what Jane thinks of that idea! So Jane likes it just the way it is, especially because it looks rather like a ball of dragon fire.

Is dragon able to perform magic? I know that some dragons who are older and wiser have that ability, but I do not know whether Dragon qualifies.

-From Muggle, 13, Michigan, USA

No, Dragon can't perform magic. His flying and fire-breathing seem like magic, but they are all due to the methane gas he builds up in his body from eating lots of vegetation. His scales and skin seem like magic because they are too strong for most weapons, but they are just very tough like slivers of bone. Unfortunately, a lot of shortlives in Jane's world used to believe that parts of a Dragon had special magical powers, so they would hunt Dragons for their teeth, claws, and scales.

I study dragons all the time and know dragon scales are hard to get. But why does Jane wear them on her skirt? You have to kill dragons to get their scales, right?

-Tuano, 10, Washington, USA

Well spotted, Tuano! The links on Jane's skirt of armor do look like dragon scales. But they are actually made of metal. They are part of a suit of special armor that was found in Dragon's cave. It's covered in dragon runes and dragon symbols, including the metal scales of the skirt.

Will Jane ever be in a combat?

-From Ned, 7

Sir Theodore is teaching Jane all the skills of being a knight. The first rule is to keep the peace and avoid combat if possible. So Jane tries to use her brain to solve her problems. But she knows that one day she might need to use her skills in combat to defend her friends and the Royal Family. Keep watching, Ned, and you'll find out the answer to your question!

What inspired you to create the show the way you did?

-From Emanuel, 13, Nantucket, MA, USA

We wanted Jane to be a cartoon that wasn't like other cartoons. We have tried to create a world where the characters behave like real people in a real world but who look like drawings from a book. The hope was that we could make a world that looked like it had stepped right out of the pages of a children's book, rather than a normal TV cartoon. I like to think we succeeded...don't you?

Just where do Rake's affections lie? And why?

-From Allisen,13, Idaho, USA

Rake doesn't have a harsh word for anyone. He sees the best in people and has a great deal of affection for Jane and all their friends. But there is one special person who can bring a bit of color into his cheeks, and she does it without rubbing beetroot on his face...though Rake has done that himself once, to please Princess Lavinia!

Do Pepper, Smithy, and Rake play games together?

-From Justin, 10, Mississippi, USA

Yes, they do...they play Bandyball! It was a very popular sport throughout England in Jane's time. It was a team game and could be played with as few as two people on each side or with hundreds. Sometimes entire villages would play against each other! The game involved hitting a ball (made from a pig's bladder that was filled with dried seeds) towards the other team's goal, which could be a post, a wall or a building. It was played with curved sticks and was a bit like modern hockey, except players could kick, throw, and hit the ball.

Did you watch or read any other books to give you an inspiration for these characters?

-From Julianne, 10, San Jose, CA, USA

My inspiration comes from real people. The characters in Jane's world are based on friends I had when I was young, on my children and friends of my children. It's the same for the adult characters. For instance, the King is very much like a teacher I had when I was at school. He was always trying to please everyone and he wasn't as smart as the children he was trying to teach. But he was a kind man and so we were always polite to him even though he was a bit silly and boring.

Do you know a dragon, and are you real?

-From Macie, 10, Tennessee, USA

Yes, I do know Jane's Dragon! He's lived in my head for over twenty years and is always telling me about his adventures from the years before he met Jane. He has now asked me to ask Jane if she would write them down for him. I've promised to pass on the message!

And yes, Macie, I am real. This is not a computer making up replies to all the wonderful questions everyone sends in. My name is Martin Baynton and I wrote the Jane And The Dragon books and work as a producer and writer on the TV series. Sadly, there isn't enough space to answer every question that is sent in, but I read ALL of them and I want to thank you all so much for the kind words and emails of support. They mean a great deal to me and to the rest of the Jane team.

Who does the voices of Jane and Dragon?

-From Maddie, 7, Morristown, NJ, USA

Jane is voiced by a very talented 13-year-old Canadian actress named Tajja Isen. You might recognize her voice on TV as that of Betty from "Atomic Betty" and Jodie from "Time Warp Trio." She's also an accomplished singer -- she portrayed Young Nala in the Toronto production of "The Lion King" for nearly a year -- as well as a pianist and songwriter. I think Tajja has a bright future ahead of her...just like Jane!

The voice behind Dragon belongs to Adrian Truss, one of Canada's leading comedians. He has performed with the Second City comedy on stage and television, as well as with the improv troupe he co-founded, Illustrated Men. You can hear Adrian's voice in other animated series such as "Atomic Betty" and "Rolie Polie Olie." Adrian has also written and directed several plays for the stage. He's a truly multi-talented fellow and we're thrilled that he's helping us bring Dragon to life.

Where is Gunther's mother? Why is there no one to stand up for him against his father?

-From Anna, NY, USA

Gunther doesn't know where his mother is. His father refuses to talk about her and gets very angry if Gunther asks about her. He has a few memories of her and has collected bits of gossip here and there. One tale is that she was the daughter of a rich trader and that the Merchant only married her to get her father's business. 

[onceuponamirror]

rating: T

summary: Jughead was supposed to be the one that got away. He wasn’t supposed to feel the flames licked at his feet, the rattling sound of a snake moving through grass; rubber on the road, blood on the tongue, a whispered eulogy to the quiet little boy who just liked his books.

Or, he gets himself in over his head with a bet and a drag race, it’s the first time he sees his girlfriend since she’s broken up with him—and he doesn’t know what he’s feeling, except that he’s feeling it all.

notes: about the amount of angst you might expect, but not all is lost. based on spoilers, speculative for 2.06. working through some of my thoughts in fic form. 

read above on ao3 or below the cut. pretty please drop me a review if you do! x

A drag race.

Like a fucking idiot, he had agreed to a drag race. And, well, there were a few problems with that.

One, he doesn’t have a license. This one is probably the least of his worries, given his new affiliations with certain notorious gangs. And he technically can drive, if one counted slapstick attempts at it at midnight in a grocery store parking lot.

Two, and rather much more glaringly, he doesn’t have a car.

Three, and the one that didn’t necessarily get him into this mess but certainly did not fucking help it along, he definitely shouldn’t have ever told his father about the Serpents.

But—he’d find out soon enough, and Jughead had thought it was information better delivered personally. He had expected the reaction he received; he just didn’t expect the consequences.

His father, who told another father, who told his son. Who felt it was his place to make sure Jughead didn’t do anything stupider—rich, coming from the guy who turned himself into a viral epitaph. Who had gotten annoyingly good at hiding in the shadows, who had followed him, who the Ghoulies had smugly demanded be Jughead’s passenger in said race.

Why did he tell his dad? Why did his dad have to tell Fred Andrews? Why—

He knows why.

In lieu of his words, his father had banged a loud fist against the plexiglass separating them in prison. Jughead had watched the way that fist had sort of melted, weary, witheringly, his fingers slowly spreading out against the windowpane and dragging down it like a last breath.

His father, unshaven, his eyes red.

Disappointment.

And he knew why; Jughead was supposed to be the one that got away. He wasn’t supposed to feel the flames licked at his feet, the rattling sound of a snake moving through grass; rubber on the road, blood on the tongue, a whispered eulogy to the quiet little boy who just liked his books.

Jughead had steeled himself for all of that, perhaps even figured that his father might call someone, try to stop it, maybe even expected that it would be the Andrewses—he just didn’t think it would work.

Jughead still doesn’t know how, and he sure as hell doesn’t know why, but maybe it’s the fact that golden boy Archie Andrews, onetime-perhaps-longtime-owner-of-Batman-pajamas, general Spiderman theologian, just can’t help himself from girdling into his superhero pants and trying to save the day.

And now, Reggie glares at him from across the shop room, in the high school that seems now so far away.

Attempting to ignore him, Jughead moves forward towards the popped engine, prepared to see what kind of machinery he has to work with. Granted, he doesn’t know much about cars, just what Betty had—

He cuts that thought right off, furious it even dared to appear.

“Not you,” Reggie barks at the same moment, looking murderous. “I don’t want your little snake hands in the engine.”

“Snakes with hands are called lizards,” Jughead growls under his breath, attempting to count backwards from five. “And newsflash, Reggie, I’m going to have to touch the car at some point, if I’m going to drive it.”

“That so, Ponyboy? I can still change my mind,” Reggie sneers, his lips thin. He jumps up from his slouched post against another car, looking ready for a fight.

“Hey, hey,” Archie interrupts, both of his hands pressed out into the air, as if up against two invisible walls. “Come on guys, we’re all on the same side here. For now,” he adds pointedly, as Reggie’s mouth opens with a snarl. He faces Reggie fully. “We don’t like the Ghoulies any more than they do, remember?”

They, Jughead hears, as a little inch of pain flares across his cheek, at the spot where Sweet Pea’s brass knuckles found purchase.

Years and years of Reggie and his yolk’s us vs. thems and it never truly felt real until Archie called him a they. He is they. He is finally the other his whole life was prophesized to become.

And that’s what you wanted. Or at least what you chose, he reminds himself, straightening and meeting Archie’s eye now. “Enemy of my enemy,” Jughead summarizes tersely, unable to hold the gaze and quickly turning back towards the engine.

“I still don’t want him touching the insides,” Reggie snaps, and Jughead throws the rag over his shoulder across the room in frustration.

“Well then what the hell are you proposing, Schrodinger? How can I simultaneously be inside the car, driving it, and never touch it? Any other theoretical paradoxes you want me to take a whack at?” Jughead bites out, his patience, already so long tested, feels perilously thin, limply dangling around like the bare stem of a dandelion with all the wishes blown off it.

Reggie’s mouth opens and closes, his lip curled. He fidgets so that his arms re-cross, clearly without an answer. After a moment, his eyes slide over to Archie for assistance.

“Betty,” Archie sighs, more to himself than anyone.

“Forget it,” Jughead says immediately, his skin suddenly feeling hot and sticky and clammy and he feels the way Betty looked right before he kissed her for the first time, her brain whirring, her eyes wide, on the precipice of— “This isn’t worth it. I’ll find another ride.”

He makes it about a second before he hears Archie’s footsteps quickly after him, and a moment later there is a wall of letterman blocking his exit strategy. “Get out of my way,” he says, a ticking in his cheek.

Archie stares at him, and for a moment, Jughead might swear there’s something very, very wrong with his expression. Raw, to the point of pity. Not quite regret, but bit and swallowed down, like a secret, a warring thought.

And then it’s gone.

“I’m terrible at shop. This car, and Betty, are our best options,” Archie says, in the matter-of-fact voice he always uses when he hasn’t actually thought anything through.

“Our?” Jughead repeats dubiously, a scoff bubbling up like acid. “Our? Archie, there is no our. It’s just the Serpents, and me. My neck on the line. I’m the one who made the deal. You were just—just—there!” He sputters through the last bit, anger running up his neck and clouding his thoughts.

“Yeah, I was. And I’m part of it now, whether either of us like or not. So we need to win. And I don’t know a lot about cars but I know that one’s fast,” Archie counters, throwing a splayed hand out towards the sleek black Camaro. “We’re not going to do better than this. I’ll go talk to her, okay?”

Whatever modicum of logic had been building in his head clutters to the ground like proverbial Jenga.

“Perfect,” he growls, his hands flying up around his face. “Yeah, yeah, you go talk to her. She a-a-always listens to Archie, right? She’ll do a-a-anything for Archie.”

He doesn’t recognize his own voice.

Even out of the corner of his eye, he sees Reggie’s head dart up, tuning in on the conversation.

Archie blinks, that earlier, pitiful look returning, and he fucking hates it. “Jug—”

“Why do something as cliche as break up over text when you can send a former crush, right?” He says bitterly, stomping away from Archie and back towards the car, for he has nowhere else to go with his once-twice-lost-best friend still blocking the exit.

The faraway look in Archie’s eye grows, and it appears as though he’s trying to find something to say, but the words must burn out of him, because he deflates and shoots a withering look at Reggie. “Make sure he doesn’t leave,” he says firmly, and Reggie rolls his eyes, but appears to take it as an order.

And then Archie is turning on his heel and disappearing down a school corridor, off in pursuit of the absolute last person Jughead wants to see.

There’s literally no point in sticking around, he tells himself, and immediately makes for the door.

“Not so fast, Baby Driver,” Reggie tuts, pushing himself off from his perch, his arms swinging.

“What are you gonna do Reg, slam me into a locker? Dump out my bag? Rip up my homework?” Jughead presses dubiously, but much to his surprise, Reggie has cut around him and dug one hand into his chest, shoving Jughead back a step.

“Always knew you were a little punk,” Reggie replies in an odd, strained voice, like perhaps that, for all his years of bullying and taunting, this is the first time he truly doesn’t know how he feels about him. Something straddling the line of I feel sorry for you and I want to punch you in the face.

“Yeah, well, finally decided to live up the aesthetic,” Jughead returns curtly. “Let me pass, Reggie.”

“Archie said to stick put.” He smiles below the eyes, clearly relishing in his role as enforcer.

“Didn’t realize you were his lackey. Thought you were the team captain,” Jughead mutters, hoping a little bit of manipulation of a jock’s ego will get him out. He starts to get a little nervous when Reggie looks briefly frustrated, but doesn’t budge from his post. Another couple of seconds pass, and Jughead begins to pace.

He can’t be here when Betty arrives.

His last memory of her is at Pop’s, the whispered wish to run away. The way she’d clung to the kiss and beamed at him from over her shoulder. A face so at odds with the words Archie had thrown at him; the words Jughead had known to be true.

He knew he couldn’t have her and the Serpents, and he’d already chosen by the time the axe fell.

Greater good, he’d reasoned. The Serpents were running wild with people like Sweet Pea in charge. They were talking about bombs. Greater good. Of all people, couldn’t Betty understand that?

Apparently not.

But.

Romeo and Juliet, she’d offered tearfully. With a happy ending.

“Get out of my way,” he barks at Reggie, his heart fluttering madly against his chest, a bird feverishly looking for an exit, rustling wings he can hear all the way up to his ears.

“You’re gonna have to—” But Reggie doesn’t finish the sentence, because the door swings open, and through it materializes Archie, and a moment later, Betty.

Jughead’s first two thoughts make absolutely no sense together.

One, she is still beautiful.

Two, she looks terrible.

She is always beautiful, he reasons, and always has been, long before they were anything to label—but even on the moments where she was anguishing over Polly’s disappearance, edging closer and closer to truth and becoming more frazzled and frayed for it—she never looked like this.

Something is very wrong, he thinks, well before he can help it.

Her hair is loose in a limp bun, uncharacteristic locks of blonde falling against her forehead. Long gone seems the perky, bouncy ponytail he used to catch himself following.

Her eyes, normally so luminous and green and filled with the book of her that he grew up reading—are empty and dull, purplish bags slung low underneath, little hammocks of sleeplessness that he has never once in sixteen years seen on her face.

Her head is bowed, and slowly rises to meet his attention. Betty’s bottom lip immediately quivers and she sucks it between her teeth as her eyes dart away and onto the car.

She walks past him, books squeezed tightly against her chest, her knuckles wrapped so firmly around the covers that he can see them burning white. His instinct is to reach out and uncurl each finger one by one and hide a kiss there, and the memory of such lashes through him with a searing pain.

“This is a nice car,” she says softly, in the direction of Reggie.

Her voice, much like her eyes, is listless.

It doesn’t make any sense. If this is what she wanted—if she was so ashamed of him, if she was the one who pushed him away—her, of all people, after all honesty he’d shared, after all abandonment issues aired like dirty laundry swaying on the line—why does she look so miserable?

His gaze bores into her, trying to riddle through it.

What if she regrets it? He thinks, in a childish, rushed voice. Did her mind change? Does she know about Toni? Shit, Toni.

It brings reality down hard on the feverish spot of hope taking form under his skin—even if… Well, there was no coming back. He’d let Toni kiss him, kissed her back even, let himself be lost in someone wanting him, accepting him, admiring him.

For every time he’d ever cringed over Archie’s wandering eye, every time he’d stashed the word fuckboy in the back of his thoughts, Jughead had gone and taken what someone could give him even as his chest beat out a staccato to another name.

His shoulders slacken. Numbly, as if from another vantage point, he watches himself watching her, tracing the movements as she sheds her coat and deposits her books onto a table. Betty’s motions are slow, ghost-like.

Something is very wrong, he thinks again.

“Engine looks fine,” Betty says a moment later, her head underneath the hood. She reaches up and rubs her cheek, leaving a spot of oil that he can’t help but find adorable. Stop it.

“So are we good to go?” Archie says, coming up next to her and peeking inside for himself.

“Um, there’s one gasket screw that’s a little loose. Nothing that I think would really be an issue, but I can tighten it up for you just in case,” Betty sighs, looking over at Reggie. She seems to be trying very hard to keep her eyes from Jughead, but as he’s standing next to the football player, they shift slightly onto him, almost unconsciously.

They quickly dart away.

“You know, it’s hot when a girl knows her cars. You can always take a look under my other hood, if you ever wanted,” Reggie says, in a slick voice, sliding closer to her alongside the worktable he’s now leaning against.

Jughead can’t believe what he’s hearing. She can’t be single for five minutes without Edward Sleazy Hands finding an innuendo to throw her way?

He knows he has no leg to stand on, especially given the problem with Toni and the lack of attempt he’s made to stop it before he hurts her too, but that doesn’t mean he has to stick around and watch this unfold.

Before he can go, however, Betty glances over at Jughead once more, her eyebrows in a knot, and his mind empties of rage. He tries to focus on the spot of car oil on her cheek. Tries to think about anything but the fact that the girl he loves is already a memory.

“Down, Reggie,” Archie cuts through his thoughts, breaking the moment for all of them. Jughead can’t decide if it makes him angrier than grateful. He wonders why Betty didn’t shut Reggie down herself—he thought she’d gotten better at standing up to that. But she just curls further inward, as if already having mentally checked out.

Reggie’s eyes flick onto Jughead for a moment and then he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, jeez,” he mutters.

The ringing of the school bell spares them another round of awkward staring around the circle, and Reggie starts to gather his things.

“Come on Andrews, we got practice. I trust Betty with the car,” he says, shouldering into his letterman jacket. Archie doesn’t move, glancing at Betty nervously. “You can’t miss your first day back or Weatherbee might cut ya again, bro.”

“Go,” he hears Betty say softly. “I’ll stay and finish this.”

“You don’t have a paper deadline?” Jughead asks before he can help himself. It’s a Friday at 3:30—normally, Betty would be running around in a tizzy trying to finalize bylines, not offering to do someone’s favors.

Betty stares at him, her teeth swiping over her bottom lip once more.

“Archie,” Reggie urges, pushing on his arm, when he still doesn’t move, watching the two of them carefully. “Cannot—be—late.”

“Go,” she says again, and then the two of them are at last gone. He is alone with Betty, and although he’d like nothing more but finally grasp his opportunity to flee, he finds his feet rooted to the spot.

“You don’t have a paper deadline?” He repeats, for lack of anything better to say.

“No,” she says, after a long moment. “Um, the paper’s on—well, it’s on hold. For now.”

He gapes at her. “What?”

“He didn’t want—” She starts to say, and then her eyes widen, and her mouth snaps shut. “It was just too much for one person’s plate,” she explains quickly. “Until I find another writer, I couldn’t…”

She trails off, and the words unsaid hang between them.

Jughead blinks as she turns and buries her face in the engine; watches as her shoulders shake and shudder almost imperceptibly.

And despite how hurt and angry he still is, despite the hammer banging down a name he doesn’t want to deal with, he thinks once again that something is very wrong, and makes his choice.

He moves to stand beside her, unsure what to say at first.

“Betty,” he murmurs, his voice choked around the word. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Slowly, her head rises, looking up at him. Her eyes are still blown and still broken. She looks, unmistakably, on the verge of tears.

“Everything,” she whispers tremulously. “Everything is wrong.”

Up close, he can see much more purple under her eyes.

Betty opens her mouth to say something else, her gaze roving over him and glossing over, looking absolutely nothing short of tortured—and then her phone rings.

Blaringly loud and jarringly poppish, some kind of jangle of yesteryear, they both jump back from one another. He hadn’t even realized how closely they’d moved together, but now she’s scuttling far away from him, grabbing for the buzzing and singing phone shockingly fast.

She buries it against her chest and hastily gathers her books and jacket. “I have to go,” she says in one breath, and he’s sure there’s something sliding down her cheek because he can see water trying to mix with the stain of oil there.

Oil and water, he thinks bitterly, watching her go, not bothering to call her name.

It’s an apt metaphor for the two of them, and he hates it. Hates everything. Hates himself for thinking it, hates her for abandoning him when she’d assured him things would be okay.

And yet, blindly, furiously, stubbornly, like a candle he can’t blow out, knows it’s not hate at all. Never could be.

He stares after the place where she disappeared, and thinks it to himself once more. 

Something is very wrong.

[papermoonloveslucy]

THREE FOR TWO

December 3, 1975

Directed by Charles Walters ~ Written by James Eppy

Synopsis

Lucille Ball and Jackie Gleason play three married couples in three stories about married life. 

Cast

Lucille Ball (Sally / Rita / Pauline) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Jackie Gleason (Herb / Fred / Mike) was born in 1916. He became one of America’s most recognized all-around entertainers but is perhaps best remembered for his iconic character of bus driver Ralph Kramden on “The Honeymooners” which was seen on CBS just like “I Love Lucy.”  On “The Lucy Show” Lucy Carmichael frequently referred to Gleason even borrowing his “Away we go” exit in a couple of episodes. In 1968 he did a wordless cameo on “Lucy Visits Jack Benny” (HL S1;E2) as bus driver Ralph Kramden. He died in 1987.

Gino Conforti (Waiter in “Herb & Sally”) began his TV acting career in 1968 and has been continually working since, although mostly as one-off characters. He had a recurring role as Felipe on “Three’s Company” from 1980 to 1982, a series Lucille Ball admired. He played the burglar in “Lucy Plays Cops and Robbers” (HL S6;E14) in 1974. He was also seen in “Lucy Gets Lucky” earlier in 1975.  

Vanda Barra (Hostess in “Fred & Rita”) made over two dozen appearances on “Here’s Lucy” as well as appearing in "Lucy Gets Lucky” (with Dean Martin) earlier in 1975 . She was seen in half a dozen episodes of “The Lucy Show.” Barra was Lucille Ball’s cousin-in-law by marriage to Sid Gould. 

Irene Sale (Woman #1 in “Fred & Rita”) was a stunt double and played Louise (uncredited) on Desilu's original “Star Trek” in 1966. This is her penultimate screen credit. 

Eddie Garrett (Man #1 in “Fred & Rita”) did two episodes of “Here's Lucy” and also played a party guest in Mame (1974). He retired in 1986 and died in 2010.

Mel Pape (Man at Table in “Fred & Rita”) was Jackie Gleason's long-time personal assistant. As such he played small roles in such Gleason projects as Smokey and the Bandit (1977), Nothing in Common (1986), and The Sting II (1983). He died in 1995.  

Due to the darkness of the nightclub only Lucille Ball and Jackie Gleason's faces are actually visible on screen. Barra, Sale, Garrett and Pape remain in shadows.  

Tammi Bula (Maureen in “Mike & Pauline”) played the recurring role of Marcia Woolery on “The Waltons.” One of her six episodes aired a month before this special.

Maureen is Mike and Pauline's daughter. She is engaged to marry her boyfriend Steven.

Paul Linke (Alfred in “Mike & Pauline”) also appeared on “The Waltons” in an episode that aired the day after this special was first broadcast. He spoke at the memorial service for his good friend John Ritter, who had appeared on “Life With Lucy” in 1986.  

Alfred is Mike and Pauline's son. He recently broke up with his girlfriend Betty Dorsey.

Director Charles Walters was an uncredited director on Ziegfeld Follies (1945) which starred Lucille Ball, although not in the segment he staged. He also directed two episodes of “Here's Lucy” and will also direct “What Now Catherine Curtis?” in 1976.

This special is billed as “Renee Taylor and Joseph Bologna's 'Three for Two'” which may indicate that the material was originally written for the married comedy team (who often performed together) instead of Lucy and Gleason. This is James Eppy's only screen credit which may indicate that this was merely a pseudonym for Taylor and Bologna as writers. Screen writer Joseph Bologna will act in Lucille Ball's next special “What Now Catherine Curtis?”

This was Lucille Ball's third prime time special after the end of “Here's Lucy” in 1974. The first two were “Happy Anniversary and Goodbye” and “Lucy Gets Lucky” nine months earlier.  

This special is available on DVD from MPI video or can be streamed online. It was originally aired on CBS in the USA and ITV in the UK.

There is no studio audience or laugh track.  

Although he made a wordless walk-on cameo as bus driver Ralph Kramden in the second-aired “Here's Lucy”, this is the first time Lucille Ball and Jackie Gleason have acted together on screen.  This continues Ball's employment of “Honeymooners” alumni:

Art Carney (Ed Norton) in “Happy Anniversary and Goodbye” and “What Now Catherine Curtis?”

Audrey Meadows (Alice Kramden) in “Life With Lucy” (1986)

Jane Kean (Trixie Norton from 1966 on) in “The Lucy Show” (1966)

In form and content, this material resembles Neil Simon's 1968 play and 1971 film Plaza Suite, which is also divided into three stories with actors playing multiple roles. The fact that the first story of the special takes place in a hotel suite strengthens the comparison. The year after this special aired, Simon wrote a similar play titled California Suite which was filmed in 1978.

Like the two previous Lucille Ball Specials, the show reunites many “Here's Lucy” production staff, including hairstylist Irma Kusely, prop master Kenneth Westcott, costumer Renita Reachi, and script supervisor Dorothy Aldworth.

This special was berated by the critics and the ratings were not as large as Lucille Ball's previous specials. CBS worried that it would lose its number one place after more than twenty seasons at the top. This pretty much spells the end of CBS's confidence in television shows featuring Lucille Ball.

“Herb & Sally” (20 minutes) ~ Lucy and Jackie Gleason play Herb and Sally Wolbert, a middle-aged couple from Cleveland with grown children who are on a month-long vacation in Italy after 24 years of marriage. After Rome they are traveling on to Venice, Capri, and the ruins of Pompeii.  

As Sally, Lucille Ball has on a black wig with silver highlights. She wears a peach chiffon nightgown (which she also owns in blue and black).

The story opens with Sally singing a carefree verse of “Volare,” a song that Dean Martin sung on the previous Lucille Ball special “Lucy Gets Lucky.”  

Oops! When the waiter hands Herb the room service menu, it opens far enough to see that Jackie Gleason has his lines written on the inside. Gleason was not a big fan of rehearsing, while Lucille Ball was a stickler for it.  

SALLY: “I gave up a successful career to marry you!” HERB: “You were a screw counter in a hardware store.” SALLY: “I was learning the business.”

Lucy Barker will be co-owner of a hardware store in Lucille Ball's last television series “Life With Lucy” (1986). Herb reminds her that his own career as a bamboo furniture salesman is no fun. Herb demeans himself by entertaining buyers in nightclubs and doing his Peter Lorre impersonation.  

HERB: “Do you mean you don't like my impersonation of Peter Lorre?” SALLY: “It stinks, Herb.” HERB: “Then our whole marriage is based on a lie.”

To prove his Peter Lorre impersonation is good, he does it for the waiter: “Did you get the information, Mr. Miller?  You didn't get the information, Mr. Miller? You were supposed to get the information, Mr. Miller.” Gleason is paraphrasing Lorre's dialogue from All Through the Night (1942) in which Gleason himself co-starred with Lorre, Humphrey Bogart and Ludwig Stössel as Mr. Miller. The waiter incorrectly guesses he is imitating Gina Lollobrigida!  

HERB: (to Sally) “I'm fat!  I'm fat!  And every pound I've put on you've put there!”

Sally says there are three men in Cleveland that keep her sane: Lou Fergazi, her butcher; Andre Molan, her decorator; and Stu Bridgeman, her family doctor.

SALLY: (yelling to the street from the balcony) “I'm a pleasure object!” HERB: “She's 45 and in two months she'll be a grandmother!  You hear that?  A grandmother!”

Lucy Ricardo visited Rome in one of the most memorable episodes of “I Love Lucy,” “Lucy's Italian Movie” (ILL S5;E23), where she soaks up local color for a movie role by stomping grapes with her feet.

“Fred & Rita” (5:30 minutes) ~ Lucy and Gleason play banker Fred N. Schneider and homemaker Rita Fledgeman, a couple carrying on a discrete affair and trying to decide whether they should tell their spouses. They meet at Cookie's Tip-Toe Inn, a dimly lit hideaway nightclub.

RITA: “I Love the touch of your aftershave. The sound of your hair when it moves.” FRED: “And I love the smell of your boa.”

Lucille Ball wears an upswept blonde wig and a feather boa. At first, both Fred and Rita wear sunglasses, despite the darkness of the club.  

RITA: “I'm only alive when I'm with you. I'm dead at the supermarket.  I'm dead at the PTA. I'm dead at the beauty parlor.” FRED: “You think you're dead? I'm dead at the bank. I'm dead at the little league games.” RITA: “Are you dead with Myrna?” FRED: “Of course I'm dead with Myrna. Why?  Aren't you dead with Harry?” RITA: “You know I'm dead with Harry.  I live only for you!”

Fred is married to Rita's best friend Myrna. Rita is married to Harry, Fred's second cousin. They've been married twenty years.

RITA: (about a possible time to meet again) “The only possible day is Veteran's Day.” FRED: “I'd love to, but I'm marching.” RITA: “You'd rather march than go away with me?” FRED: “I can cheat on my wife, but not the National Guard.”

“Mike & Pauline” ~ Lucy and Gleason play domineering parents involved in a New Year's Eve family crisis as they are forced to recognize their college-aged children's declaration of independence.

As Pauline, Lucille Ball wears a honey-brown wig, topped with a paper crown (because it is New Year's Eve).  

Mike lists his best friends as Johnny Bridges, Georgie Shry, Tommy Ritzo, Eddie Kunz, and Lefty Bryan.  

MIKE: (about his best friends) “I always listened to their viewpoints and made sure that I had all the facts – before I punched each one of them out. It happens to be the code I live by: logic – and then violence.”

Mike mentions the family's New Year's Eve traditions of watching the ball drop in Times Square, listening to Guy Lombardo, and the kids watching Mike and Pauline dance to “Apple Blossom Time.”  "(I'll Be With You) In Apple Blossom Time" was written by Albert Von Tilzer and Neville Fleeson in 1920. It was introduced on big screen by the Andrews Sisters in their 1941 film Buck Privates. In “Lucy and the Andrews Sisters” (HL S2;E6, above), Lucille Ball, Lucie Arnaz, and Patty Andrews sing it as part of a medley of the Andrews Sisters' greatest hits. Guy Lombardo was mentioned on “Lucy and the Drum Contest” (HL S3;E4) when Harry calls him his favorite musician.  

MIKE: (to his grown children, angry) “Nobody's going anywhere. No how, no way, no chance!  The case is dismissed! Through!  Finished!  Done!” PAULINE: (calmly) “Now that's fair.  Your father's very fair.”

Only one episode of a Lucille Ball sitcom was ever set on New Year's Eve: “Chris's New Year's Eve Party” (TLS S1;E14), originally aired on December 31, 1962.

Alfred wants to quit college and become a nightclub comic. Mike tries in vain to give his son some pointers about the timing of his jokes. Before being signed to a film contract, Jackie Gleason worked as a nightclub comic at New York's Club 18.  

In the end, the children go out to be with their dates and Mike and Pauline watch the ball drop on TV to the strains of “Auld Lang Syne.” As they dance in the living room to “Apple Blossom Time” Mike and Pauline become Lucy and Jackie dancing together as the credits roll.  

This Date in Lucy History - December 3rd

“Men Are Messy” (ILL S1;E8) ~ December 3, 1951 

“The Ricardos Visit Cuba” (ILL S6;E9) ~ December 3,1956

“The Celebrity Next Door” (LDCH S1;E2) ~ December 3, 1957

"Vivian Sues Lucy" (TLS S1;E10) ~ December 3, 1962

“Harry Catches Gold Fever” (HL S6;E12) ~ December 3, 1973

The writing here (whoever is responsible) is what makes the difference.  The first segment is familiar territory and feels expected. The shortest segment is the best written and most interesting.  The final scene is a family dramedy with some unfunny inferences to spouse abuse and violence.  Ball and Gleason are not Meryl Streep and Laurence Olivier, but they do well enough to make it a mostly entertaining hour. 

[ficwritingfeline]

veronica the military wolf

Chapter 2

The sounds of the birds singing in the early morning rang clear throughout the town as the sun rose and the sky brightened, the town slowly aroused from their slumber.

Veronica woke up on a soft patch of grass and stretched, shoulders and back giving off satisfying popping sounds. Standing up she quickly surveyed her surroundings before seeing and picking up her clothes she left under a tree a few feet away, dressing quickly she jogged her way back to her house. Silently jumping over the backyard and trotting onto the porch. She opened the sliding door she left unlocked when she left.

“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” veronica yelled in the house.Not hearing any reply back She frowned. Had they gone out last night too?

she thought before a sound from the kitchen caught her attention, and she quietly made her way over to check, where she found her pet cat on top of one of the counters about to knock over another mug and under the counter the cat was on top of was a pile of clothes and mugs, thinking that the sound she heard must have been the mugs colliding on top of each other, she quickly walked over and plucked the cat from the counter and placed her on the floor then she picked the clothes and mugs and placed them back where they belong, fortunately none of the mugs were broken so she had nothing to worry about.

 turning over to the cat that was still in the same spot she was placed in “Pawper didn’t dad and i banned you from the kitchen?”

pawper mewed as she said  “Well everyone wasn’t here when i got up, also im hungry.”

“sorry,i just got back.” veronica tiredly grinned as she placed cat food in front of pawper as she was talking “Do you know where they are?”

“They went out last night around the same time as you.” pawper said, “How was your night, by the way?”

“Pretty good. I haven’t been able to run like that in a while.”

Mrs. Sawyer smiled. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. You’ve been tense these last few weeks.”

Veronica chuckled. “The Heathers make me go everywhere with them. It’s not like I can just tell them I need to go and then spend the rest of the night running around in the woods.”

“You know, you could stop hanging around them. Betty and Martha are a lot nicer than they are.”

Veronica huffed. “I know, and I’d love to go back to the way things were, but high school doesn’t work that way. The Heathers could make life hell for me if I get on their bad side.” She started picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. “Plus, I’ve… kind of bonded with them, so I can’t just leave them.”

Mrs. Sawyer nodded in understanding. “In that case, just be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting in any trouble.”

“C’mon, Mom,” Veronica laughed, “Since when am I a troublemaker?”

Mrs. Sawyer smiled fondly. “You’re absolutely right. Now, how about you show me the right way to cook eggs and we can all have breakfast once your father gets home.”

Veronica chuckled, taking the spatula from her mother and turning to the stovetop. “Well, first of all, you’re using the wrong pan.”

“God, finally,” Heather Chandler grumbled, “What took you so long?”

Veronica shrugged as she slipped into the backseat beside Heather McNamara. “I had to help my parents with something. Besides, breakfast is a thing that exists.”

Chandler scoffed. “Breakfast is a waste of time.” She looked back at Veronica and Mac and frowned. “Why are you sitting back there? There’s an empty seat here in the front.”

Veronica blinked. “I wouldn’t want to distract you when you’re driving. Besides, it would be a little weird if we both sat in the front and nobody was back here to keep Heather company. It’d get lonely back here.”

Chandler scowled. “Heather’s not a fucking baby, Veronica. She can handle sitting alone for ten minutes.”

“Doesn’t mean she’d want to.” Veronica turned to look at Mac. “What do you think, Heather? If you want me to stay back here with you, I’ll do that. I wouldn’t want you to feel excluded.”

Mac blinked, seemingly at a loss for words. “I mean, I enjoy the company…”

Veronica smiled. “Alright. I’ll stay here with you, then.”

Mac smiled and settled back in her seat.

Chandler huffed. “Whatever.”

Veronica winced internally at Chandler’s tone and the way her shoulders tensed up. Quietly, she got out her phone and typed out a quick text to Duke.

Heads up, I may or may not have made Heather mad. Maybe try to avoid talking to her for a while.

She chewed at her lip nervously as she hit send, hoping Duke would get to school before they did so she’d have enough time to read the message.

After ten minutes and a scathing message from a pissed off Heather Duke, they arrived at school, each of them a little more on edge than usual.

“Hey Heather,” Veronica smiled nervously, “How was your morning?”

Duke scowled, and Veronica brought her hands up in front of her in a placating gesture, shrinking in on herself slightly. If her ears were longer, Veronica was sure they’d be pressed flat against her head.

She saw Duke look at her oddly, like she recognized her behavior from somewhere, before she huffed, turning away. “My morning’s not going so great right now.”

Veronica lowered her arms, feeling some of the stress leave her when Duke showed no signs of hostility. Her shoulders were a little tense, but otherwise she didn’t seem like she’d get mad. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said sincerely, “Is there anything I can do?”

Duke stared at her for a few seconds, as though she were trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle. “I mean, probably not. I’m just having a weird day.”

Veronica nodded. “If you think of anything I can do to help, let me know.”

Duke eyed her strangely, but ultimately appeared to decide not to say anything more, instead falling in line behind Chandler as they walked from the student parking lot to the school.

“Christ, Veronica, why don’t you fucking marry Heather, if you’re so goddamn concerned about how she’s doing,” Chandler rolled her eyes.

Veronica wrinkled her nose, lowering her body a bit closer to the ground as she felt that familiar sensation of protective anger clawing at her chest. She had to remind herself not to growl as she spoke. “I thought friends were supposed to be concerned about each other’s wellbeing.”

Chandler rounded on her then, turning on her heel and stepping into Veronica’s space, nose wrinkled and lip curled in anger, her teeth bared. “Don’t get all high and mighty with me, Sawyer,” she sneered, and Veronica felt her anger tearing at her chest, “If I remember correctly, you ditched Betty Finn and Martha Dumptruck for us, so don’t go around talking about how friends should behave.”

That protective anger morphed into indignant rage, her own lip curling as she leaned forward, all dominance and aggression,  no fear in her eyes as she snarled. “ First of all, it’s Dunnstock. If you call her Martha Dumptruck one more time we’re going to have a problem.” She felt an instinctual surge of pride at the hesitation in Chandler’s eyes as Veronica stepped forward, now only inches from her face as her rage demanded to be set free to wreak havoc. “Second, if you think for a moment that I’d choose you over the only two people in the world who have accepted me, all of me, then you’re sorely mistaken. They aren’t just my friends, they’re my family, and a Sawyer never turns their back on their family.”

Chandler blinked in surprise, her body lowering slightly in a show of fear, before she sneered up at Veronica. “If you even think of throwing away all I’ve done for you, I can make your life a living hell.”

Veronica was unable to keep the primal growl out of her voice as she spoke. “You don’t scare me, but I can tell that I scare you.”

Chandler scoffed, although her eyes flicked away from Veronica’s for a split second. “You wish. ”

Veronica huffed, backing down slightly. She wanted to assert some form of dominance, not actually scare her. “Whatever. The next time you insult my family, though, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Chandler’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, before she turned back around and started walking towards the school, paying no mind to whether or not the others were following.

Veronica’s shoulders slumped in relief, a sigh pushing past her lips as she closed her eyes and willed the thing in her chest that demanded she bite and claw at her attacker down.

She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Duke was staring at her, a curious look on her face. “What? Did I do something weird?”

Duke blinked, before scowling up at Veronica. “Nice going. Now she’s even angrier.”

Veronica suppressed a whine. She wasn’t going to make herself look like a pup who’d just been scolded. Not in front of these girls. At least, not until she knew she could trust them. “Sorry,” she said, “I just… I wasn’t okay with her insinuating that Betty and Martha stopped being important to me just because she gave me a blazer and a shorter skirt.”

Duke laughed, and Veronica’s eyes widened. “Well, next time, try to keep us out of it.”

Veronica smiled. “Sure thing.”

Suddenly, a familiar smell wafted through the air.

“Ugh,” Veronica groaned, “Dumb and Dumber are here.”

“How can you tell?” Mac asked.

Veronica shuddered. “I can smell their goddamn Axe body spray from here.”

Duke chuckled. “I see them. God, how is your sense of smell that strong?”

Veronica grinned wryly. “I’m part dog.”

Duke rolled her eyes, though Veronica noticed the amusement twinkling in them as she linked their arms and pulled Veronica with her, gesturing for Mac to follow. “Come on. I know how to avoid them.”

“My hero,” Veronica said, smiling wide as Duke led the way to the school library. She’d deal with Chandler, she decided. Right now, she just wanted to get away from Kurt and Ram. And maybe spend some more time with Duke and Mac while she was at it.

[fxyeahriverdale-blog]

What Happened To Us? Chapter 2: Losing Your Memory

A/N: I edited this myself so please be nice haha. See the end for more notes!

Read the chapter on AO3

“Hello Forsythe my name is Doctor Francis.” A handsome doctor greets Jughead. Jughead can’t help but think they pulled this doctor straight out of a Hollywood soap opera.

“I go by Jughead.” Jughead notices the police officer sitting in the corner of his hospital room.

“We met briefly last night. It is nice to see you again. How are you feeling Jughead?"

"Like I have been stabbed."

"Making jokes is a sign of great progress." Doctor Francis opens his file. "You have suffered a few wounds. A stab wound in your abdomen and a tramatic brain injury from hitting your head.”

“What’s with the police escort? Sheriff Keller too busy working on gentrifying the Southside Side?” Jughead mocks Sheriff Kellers vendetta against the Southside. He has had it out for Jughead for years and Jughead knows it. Ever since the incident at Riverdale elementary.

“Well it is good to know that you haven’t lost your sense of humor Jughead.” The Police Officer jumps out of his chair to greet Sheriff Keller.

“Right on cue.” Jughead says annoyed. Sheriff Keller always finds a way to visit his dad or the serpents. Jughead is put on Keller's bad side by association.

“Thank you Officer Daley you can clock out now.”

“Thanks Sheriff.”

“Doctor, do you mind if I ask Mr. Jones some questions?”

“I do actually. Jughead has very serious injuries including memory loss. I have not been able to run any tests yet. Right now Jughead needs to focus on his recovery, not getting grilled by the police.” Jughead decides he likes the soap opera doctor.”Jughead and I were about to discuss his injuries. You can sit in if you would like in order to help the investigation, but if you give this boy any issues I will have to ask you to leave.”

“Deal.” Sheriff Keller sits down in the chair that the other police officer had occupied previously.

“I know I all ready asked you this Jughead, but do you know what today’s date is?”

“It’s July 2nd isn’t it?” Jughead asks confused. Why is he asking him this again?

“No Jughead it is April 28th." Jughead's head begins to throb at this news. "We believe that the injury in your head has resulted in memory loss. We do not know the full damage of your brain injury yet, so I cannot give you any answers about the memory loss right now. I think it is best if we run tests straight away, so that I can give you the answers you need.”

“Thanks.” Jughead feels overwhelmed. Today is April 29th. He is certain that today is July 2nd. That is almost ten months of his life that have been erased. Has anything changed in his life? Is there a reason his brain doesn’t want him to know about the last nine months?

“The blonde that was here when I woke up? Was she there during the fight?” Jughead asks. Why else would Betty Cooper be by his side? He has hardly talked to her in several years, since he cut her out of his life. He thought he had successfully pushed her away. He didn’t want to believe after how awful he was when he walked away from their friendship, that Betty Cooper would still be here for him. Of course she would. She has the biggest heart of anyone he has ever met.

“I am not sure.” Doctor Francis answers. Jughead looks up at Sheriff Keller.

“We will talk about it later Jughead. Rest up. I will be back later with questions.” Of course he will.

_______________________________________________________________________

Betty turned off the hot water. She saw the blood still going down the drain. Jughead’s blood. She shut her eyes trying to forget about today’s events.

Betty slipped on a pair of pajama pants and a baby blue t shirt before heading into her bedroom.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Archie Andrews?” Betty sighs as she hears Veronica and Archie still arguing.

“I though of all people you would be on my side Veronica!”

Betty walked over to her window and closed her curtains.

“Jughead and your dad are now in the hospital! I guess you got what you wanted Archie!”

Betty looks up to see her sister appear out of their shared bathroom that connects the girl’s bedrooms. Polly looks at her little sister with worried eyes.”How are you doing?”

“Fine.” Betty lies. She is an excellent liar when she wants to be. Nobody can be perfect all of the time, but Betty Cooper can sure convince people she is. She has years of practice. If there was anyone not to crack in front of, it is her 9 month pregnant sister.

“Gosh they are so loud.” Polly refers to the explosive fight between Archie and Veronica that has been going on for almost an hour now.

“Where is Alice Cooper nosy neighborhood watch when you need her?” Betty jokes. Polly is surprised her sister is all ready making jokes, considering her earlier state.

“She and dad went to dinner.” Betty rolled her eyes. For months, her parents have been acting like nothing ever happened. Their marriage had obvious issues, but her parents preferred to tuck them away. The revelation that Betty and Polly have a brother out there in the world has not sat well with Betty. She has thought about it every single day. The fact that Polly and Betty got to grow up in this nice house with their All American family, while her brother is somewhere out there in the world unsure of who is birth parents are. Betty thought there was no returning for her parents after Alice threw a brick through the register window at Hal. She was wrong. Her family has just forgotten about all of their issues. Betty has learned this year that she is different from her family. She cannot sideline her problems. Her parents were a terrible example on how to deal with life issues.

“Everything that is coming out of your mouth is bullshit Archie!” Betty sighs. As angry as she is at Archie, hearing her friends argue is killing her. Despite what people think, she wishes the best for their relationship. She wants to see them happy. This Riverdale civil war is ripping everyone apart. Even people on the same side. ”All of this fighting is just going to get more people killed.” Polly begins getting worked up.

“It will end soon Polls.” Betty does not even believe the words coming out of her own mouth. She knows that things will only get worse after this. The serpents who were the passive party, will now turn in the aggressors. The Northside made a death wish when they invaded the Southside.

“When?” A tear begins to roll down Polly’s cheeks. Betty walks off of her bed to wipe her sister’s eyes.”I am so sorry Betty, you have had the night from hell and I am here being selfish.” Betty grabs her sister’s hand.

“Polly you lost your fiancé and you are pregnant with two beautiful babies. You have every reason to be emotional.”

“I am so lucky to have you as my sister. I am so happy that Jug is awake. If you need anything just let me know!”

“I need you to go in your room and rest. My niece and nephew are due at anytime. Let’s focus on the good.” Betty moved her hand to Polly’s stomach where she feels a kick. Polly smiles.

“They love when Aunt Betty is around.”

“I can’t wait to meet you cuties. Hurry up and get here.”

“If I were them I would stay cooped up in their mother’s womb for eternity to avoid this Riverdale drama.” The red haired vixen appears in the bathroom.

“We do have a doorbell Cheryl.” Betty says.

“As your grungy boyfriend likes to say, this is the dark ages Betty. Do you know how easily I just got into your house? Your front door is exceptionally quiet.”

“How do you think I ended up seventeen and pregnant?”

“TMI Pollykins. The point is that nobody’s safety is guaranteed these days. I am not letting JJ’s babies spend one more night without protection.”

“Thanks Cheryl, but we are all right. Really.”

Cheryl walks over to Betty’s window. She opens the curtains and the window.”Hey! There is a girl who is days away from popping out two babies and another whose boyfriend was just put in the hospital, if you could take this episode of the Jerry Springer Show somewhere else, maybe even the Southside might be better suited, that would be great.” Cheryl shuts the window.

Betty and Polly look at Cheryl surprised. They have witnessed Cheryl’s savage attitude on many occasions, but never on their behalf. This girl burned down her own house. She is not one to mess with.

“Betty, I am sorry about Jughead.” Cheryl says sincerely.

“Thank you Cheryl.”

“Don’t worry about Polly, I will make sure she and the babies are all right.”

“Good night.” The two head to Polly’s room. Cheryl’s sleepover at the Cooper household have been very common the past couple of months. After losing her home, twin brother, family business, and father all in one year, the babies and Polly were the closest thing Cheryl had to family. Betty had definitely seen a different side to Cheryl. She almost seemed human.

Betty sits down on her bed and pulls out her diary. Her favorite place to vent. Whether she writes about her good days or bad days, it is therapeutic for her.

For the first time ever, Betty stares at the blank page in her diary unsure of what to write. Her hands begins to shake.

There is a knock at the door and Betty drops her pencil.”B is it okay if I come in?” Betty sighs recognizing the familiar voice. She does not know if she wants to listen to Veronica vent about Archie right now, but it would take her mind off of her current situation.

“Um ya.”

Veronica opens the door. Betty is surprised at the sight of her. The always composed Veronica Lodge has mascara stains. She looks tired and broken.

“Betty I am so sorry!”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not okay.” Veronica sits on the end of Betty’s bed.”I had no idea he was going to go this far. I had no idea I swear!”

“None of us knew V.”

“I am sorry for the fighting too. You are here struggling and Archie and I are just- well that doesn’t matter- it’s over. I should have been here with you all night. How are you doing?”

“I am okay.” Betty lies.

“Elizabeth Cooper the I am okay excuse may be enough to get other people to drop it, but I know that is far from the truth. It’s okay to be hurting.”

“Jughead is awake. He is talking. As long as he is okay, I am okay.”

“How do you feel about the memory loss?” Betty is still processing the news about the memory loss herself. She has no idea what this means for her relationship.

“It is a small price to pay for his life.”

“Betty you are allowed to be upset. You can be selfish for once.” Betty feels the lump growing in her throat. The ache in her chest. She has been kicking herself since she got home for being upset. Feeling selfish, for not being completely excited about Jughead being awake.

“Veronica you don’t know this, but before you moved here Jughead, Archie, and I were always best friends. His mom and sister left almost two years ago and he cut me out of his life. He let Archie back in, but not me until this year. I got my best friend back. Then I fell in love with him and he loved me back. And now that is all gone. He is back to the boy who did not want me to be a part of his life.” Betty admits sadly.

“Betty he loves you.”

“It doesn’t matter as long as he is okay.” Betty says trying to convince herself more than Veronica.

“Betty?” Veronica looks at Betty unconvinced.

”What if I have lost Jughead forever?” Betty asks Veronica terrified.

Veronica slips off her Louis Vuitton heels and crawls next to Betty on the bed. She wraps her arms around Betty, letting her best friend sob into her shoulder.

A/N: Poor Betty :(! Poor Juggie :(! Sorry that this is a bit of filler chapter with both Betty and Jughead taking in the current situation of Jughead's memory loss. The next chapter we will learn about what exactly happened to Jughead.

Thank you everyone for the awesome feedback! I really appreciate it :)! Come talk to me or follow me on Tumblr at fxyeahriverdale

[theo-la-dora]

Ink Stained Chapter 1: Hollow Hands

Read Here or on AO3

Summary:

There have always been time travellers. As far as humanity reaches back, there’ve been stories of the ones that can walk through time. No one knows much about them - there’s talk about creatures with too long limbs and too sharp teeth, claws instead of hands that can rip out hearts with a sweet-tongued prayer and the lines they write with their own blood to mark the things they change. And change they do. It is like a universal rule that the world requires balance and that consequently, every action leaves its traces. (Laura has worn hers since birth.)

Chapter 1/7: Hollow Hands

The girl first appeared to Laura on a Wednesday.

It was just a regular caffeine-fueled, bone-tired morning during finals after yet another night of cramming as many facts on the French Revolution as well as case examples for her entertainment law class in her head as could possibly fit without toppling over. And when Laura stood there in the campus coffee shop at 8 a.m., bleary eyed and not quite functioning, she could almost taste the adrenaline on the back of her tongue like yesterday’s dinner. Her fingers jittered up and down the counter as if they were not quite part of her body as the droning sound in her mind increased in volume.

Considering the state, Laura was in, it wasn’t all that surprising that the grip she had on her cup of coffee and the rainbow sprinkled cupcake was shaky at best. Commanding her legs to turn around and move was therefore apparently more than she could handle because the world suddenly tilted sideways, the ground closer than it had been before and she felt beverage as well as pastry slipping from her hands when she almost ran into the person behind her in line.

“Oh crap!” Laura cried out and by sheer force of luck, she managed to keep her coffee from spilling, but the cupcake landed frosting first on the stranger’s chest, closely followed by her own hand.

“Squishy,” she thought as she reflexively closed her fingers and it wasn’t until she felt laughter rumble under her hands that she realized she wasn’t only essentially groping a stranger’s chest but also calling it the equivalent of a sponge. Out loud and in public.

Laura plucked the cupcake off with a burning face and shaky fingers.

“Easy there, cutie,” a scratchy voice drawled that apparently belonged to the stranger she’d just sleep-molested. “Someone might take offense to you playing human bowling in a coffee shop. Violation of personal boundaries notwithstanding.”

Laura blinked. “Um… I’m sorry?”

The stranger – a girl clad only in black and leather – arched a brow behind the sunglasses she wore indoors in freaking January and Laura couldn’t help but blush because even her sleep deprived brain could register that the girl she’d almost barreled over and again, groped, was gorgeous.

“Are you asking or telling, cupcake?”

“Telling?” Laura smiled sheepishly, her cheeks burning. Her brain was scattered and so, so tired that her vision almost blurred. “I’m really, really sorry. Can I get you a napkin or something? Perhaps a dry cleaner – I’d give you my shirt, but that might end with one of us epically dead, so-”

“Nah, don’t worry,” the girl smirked, wiping away the frosting with one finger before licking it off and Laura couldn’t help but stare.

“Try to stay alive, cupcake, okay?” The girl said, her voice dropping another octave until it was just claws against sandpaper and pressed the sticky finger against Laura’s cheek, dragging it down her cheekbone until it rested against her jawline, just below her mouth. “And remember, sweet dreams.”

Laura didn’t realize how utterly weird that was until the strange girl had already left the coffee shop without even buying anything. She stood there in a daze for a full five minutes until a lady at one of the tables – dark skin and blood red gloves – caught her attention by grabbing her wrist and telling her to maybe “go look at a mirror, moppet. Cats always leaves behind messes.”

There was a black line on her chin when she looked in the restroom mirror as if the girl had drawn with charcoal on her skin.

It didn’t wash off.

+++

That same day a black mark appears on the side of the City Hall building, a black crow in flight and it feels like the whole city forgets to breathe.

(Laura doesn’t watch the news for a whole week, the space above her heart burning a hole through her shirt).

+++

The next time Laura saw the girl, it was spring break and Betty was dragging her through a shopping mall on the look for a bikini of all things, because apparently, her father had invited the whole family to a spontaneous vacation on some private Caribbean island and Betty was not prepared.

“He said we were going skiing,” she reiterated for the hundredth time in the past two hours, cursing the lack of ready swim wear in stores that were still stocking for winter and Laura was about ready to hit her upside the head with the next two-piece that didn’t satisfy her roommates ridiculous demands on style and quality when a black spot in the crowd caught her eye, a faint buzzing in her ear.

“- but no, Mommy 3.0 has apparently convinced him that getting a tan in March is just the thing to do and now I have to contend with last season’s leftovers and I did not plan for this. I planned for skiing, for cashmere sweaters and sport shirts and – Laura?”

“Hmm?” Laura was busy frowning at the masses of people frequenting the mall on a Saturday morning, trying to find whatever it was that had caught her attention. “Skiing, yes, I heard you.”

Betty let out that choked half snort, half laugh sound she did when couldn’t decide whether she was annoyed or amused. “No, you didn’t, Hollis. Is the City Hall mark still upsetting you that much?”

Laura blinked, averting her eyes from the crowds even though something kept tugging at the edge of her mind. “No, why – How do you even know about that?”

Betty’s expression softened just a fraction. “Because you acting weird and turning off the TV ever since that day wasn’t clue enough?”

“I…I’m not…” She sighed, rubbing her sternum through her shirt. “It just throws me off is all. That mark suddenly appears and no one knows how and why and what’s even been changed, it’s just…” she trailed off and Betty nodded knowingly.

“People celebrate it as a good sign, you know?” her roommate said quietly, brow furrowed. “That something changed for the better, that a crisis has been averted since it appeared at City Hall and we’re all still alive, you know?”

“I know,” Laura stressed, fingers fiddling with the bag full of stationary she’d bought to Betty’s good-natured exasperation. “I would just like to know why.”

“And there’s the whole reason why you’ll be a journalist and I’ll be a lawyer,” Betty smirked throwing an arm around Laura’s shoulders. The hug lifted her spirit at least a bit, the smile spreading a bit easier and it would’ve been fine, it would’ve just been fine if she hadn’t caught that spot of black out of the corner of her eyes again.

The buzzing at the back of her mind grew louder, her nerve ends suddenly vibrating with a strange kind of energy as the undefined noise cleared into a rhythm similarly to -

A heartbeat.

“Wait!”, Laura yelled and she was out of Betty’s grasp and the store before she even realized she’d started running. The figure in black weaved in and out of crowds, dark curls flowing with the movement and she caught a flash of a pale face, the hint of a smile before the figure disappeared again.

Laura followed her, pushing past families, wailing children and gum-snapping teenagers and she was sure she’d caught up, the black figure just a grasp away, but then she blinked and the person she’d been following was suddenly at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hollis, what the fuck?” she heard Betty screech but Laura didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, her mind was whirring, breath going a mile a minute, because when the figure turned around, smirk plastered on her face –

The heartbeat-like noise at the back of her mind thumbed in time with Laura’s own heart and she recognized her.

The girl from the coffee shop.

+++

There have always been time travellers. As far as humanity reaches back, there’ve been stories of the ones that can walk through time as if it’s sand on a beach, one in every few million people and no more than a handful for the whole world population. No one knows much about them - most of it fabricated from different myths across different cultures and there’s talk about creatures with too long limbs and too sharp teeth, claws instead of hands that can rip out hearts with a sweet-tongued prayer and the lines they write with their own blood to mark the things they change.

And change they do.

It is like a universal rule that the world requires balance – power comes with limitations, weakness and strength are different sides of the same coin and every action leaves its traces.

(Laura has worn hers since birth.)

+++

In the days after the shopping mall incident Laura was filled with restlessness.

She couldn’t quite name it, the energy buzzing in her veins that kept her up even at night, and it wasn’t until she almost ran across half the campus because she’d seen a girl dressed in black exiting the philosophy building that she admitted to herself that she was a bit obsessed.

A teeny tiny bit.

“Fucking mental,” Betty muttered under her breath while meticulously folding her clothes and carefully placing them into her suitcase. “That’s what you are, Hollis. Running after a girl you’ve met once, because you think black clothes are somehow unique.”

“It was her,” Laura grumbled, chewing on one of the chocolate chip cookies Perry had brought over earlier, because Laf’s continuing experiments made her stress bake. “I just know it was her and there’s something… different about her and I just can’t figure out what it is.” She spit out a frustrated sound as well as few cookie crumbs and Betty wiped them away with an expression of thinly veiled disgust before fixing Laura with a look.

“You have a crush on her,” she stated blankly.

“I do not – I mean, she’s pretty, sure, but I don’t know anything about her, she could be a serial killer for all I know or even a honest-to-Lestat vampire and I called her boobs squishy for crying out loud and she just keeps showing up and I have a feeling that…,” Laura trailed off, annoyed with herself for not being able to properly form words.

“You and your feelings are going to be the death of me, Hollis. Remember that time you thought Danny was a werewolf and started following her around on every full moon?”

“I had reasonable grounds for suspicion,” Laura muttered disgruntled, batting at Betty’s hands when she tried stealing cookies from Laura’s plate.

“It was fucking hilarious, because the girl thought you had a crush on her and kept on dropping hints about you two going out on a date and you just thought she wanted to eat you.”

Laura blushed. “It’s not like that, okay?”

“Then what’s it like?” Betty sighed and when Laura didn’t answer, she bent down and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I care about you, tiny Hollis, okay? Are you sure you don’t want to come with me and spent a few days in the sun? Save me from the crazy people?”

“You love your crazy people,” Laura said with a small smile and a shake of her head. “My dad’s coming up for a visit next week and Kirsch’s been yammering on about checking out some club downtown. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Yeah,” Betty drawled sarcastically and sometimes Laura’s lovely, lovely roommate was just plain annoying. “Because that’s what I’ll do with a borderline obsessed Laura Hollis. Not worry.”  

+++

She sees the girl five more times after that.

On Saturday, she’s at the grocery store browsing the wine shelves before picking a bottle of tequila and a small can of lighter gasoline and moving so quickly through the queue at the check-out that Laura’s sure black magic is involved. Monday morning during rush hour, Laura catches a glimpse of her through the security door of a local bank wearing a cardigan cut like a floor-length cape and carrying a full on medieval sword which should probably be worrying to some degree but she’s late to pick up her Dad at the train station and if she doesn’t show up there in the next five minutes he’ll be going full on Crocodile Dundee in Toronto which – not a good idea.

On Thursday, Laura’s taking her Dad (who thankfully keeps his survival tools mostly under wraps) on a tour around Kensington Market when she sees the girl on the other side of the road, still in sunglasses and her leather jacket but with a read streak in her hair and as if knowing that Laura’s watching, the girl turns around and waves before disappearing on a bus headed south. When her Dad asks about her new friend, Laura just stutters and frowns which sets him off like a shark smelling blood and she’s beyond grateful when she can put him back into a train on Friday. That same day she sees the girl for the fourth time as she smirks at her through the smudged windows of a subway train car at St. George’s station during the evening rush and Laura’s pretty darn sure she also sees her balancing on a low wall in Riverdale Park West in a short black dress that same weekend, sunlight gleaming off midnight-blue curls so brightly that she can barely look at her.

(The faint background noise of another person’s heartbeat doesn’t disappear, though. It only grows louder when she’s near.)

+++

The club was a sweaty mass of writhing bodies and sugar-sticky drinks and Laura was pretty sure that seventy percent of the body glitter on her skin wasn’t her own. She probably would have cared more about that five drinks ago, but as it was, the blaring music beat in tune with her mind and pulse and she felt more exhausted, yet at peace than she had for weeks.

Natalie kept on giggling something about a girl in a white dress in Laura’s ear that she could barely make out over the blasting music while SJ ordered more Fizzy Dagons for them from where she was perched on Kirsch’s back. Her boyfriend tried to hold up a discussion with Mel but the girl was just shaking her head at him in exasperation, yelling something about antlers and hunts that sounded rather dangerous – and potentially detrimental to Kirsch’s health. Laura smiled fondly at her group of friends and leaned against the balustrade overlooking the dance floor, the haze of alcohol clouding her vision when she suddenly felt that insistent tug somewhere in the periphery of her mind again.

She felt dizzy for a moment as another beat joined the music, the one in her head growing louder, more pronounced.

Natalie’s worried face appeared somewhere in the corner of her vision and Laura heard the distant echo of concerned words, felt hands tugging at her, but she couldn’t focus, couldn’t react because –

The girl was here.

It was strangely striking, the way she stood there, unmoving, in the middle of the dance floor, blue and red lights reflecting off pale skin left bare by the miniscule corset she was wearing, eyes two black lined, bottomless pits that stared right at Laura.

The girl smirked, the movement baring the briefest flash of gleaming teeth and Laura was moving before she was consciously aware of deciding on it. She pushed past groups of dancers, half convinced that when she finally reached the other side, the girl - this hallucination - would be gone again.

She wasn’t.

Up close, the girl was a study in black and white contrasts, hard lines and grey shadows and even the colourful club lights looked foreign on her skin. Her smile – too many teeth and bloodless lips – grew wider with every step Laura took towards her. The heartbeat in her mind amplified, thumbed more closely to her own and Laura didn’t stop walking until their foreheads were almost pressed together, breathing her in.

“Cupcake,” the girl rasped, something akin to wonder in her eyes and then her hands cupped Laura’s face, nose brushing hers before she pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth and Laura snapped.

Instead of letting the girl draw back, she leaned back in, holding her there with her hands on her hips, fingers digging into soft flesh - because flesh it was, not smoke, not dreams. She dragged her tongue across the girl’s lower lip, teeth nipping at it for a moment and Laura relished in the girl’s surprised gasp, the way her mouth opened and she drank her in.

There was a slightly bitter taste to her lips, like the last remnants of wine mixed with cigarettes and Laura couldn’t get enough. The heartbeat got faster, got tangled with her own until, with a sudden hiccough, they beat as one. A deep sated heat spread from her lower vertebrae up to the base of her skull where the girl’s fingers were pressed against her skin and she’d wanted this, had wanted this for so long without finding a name for it and –

The girl pulled back, looking frazzled and overwhelmed and young and for a few heavy breaths they just stared at each other, hearts beating in sync.

“Let’s get out of here, cupcake,” the strange girl whispered, fingers entwining with Laura’s and dragging her towards the entrance before taking a left turn down a dark, less crowded hallway. Laura, recklessness receding with the fading music, almost questioned their destination when the girl spun her around, pressed her against a graffiti covered concrete wall and kissed her again.

Away from the crowds, it escalated quickly. Laura couldn’t help herself but touch the cool, bare skin, tangle her hands in short, dark curls and pull her even closer when the girl smirked against her lips, hot breath ghosting down her neck as her fingers moved to unbutton her jeans. Laura’s breath hitched, the heat along her spine coiling between her legs and she let out a whine when the girl did nay but skim along the line of her underwear. The stranger huffed out a laugh which quickly caught in her throat as Laura’s hand moved beneath the waistband of her leather pants, her head falling forward just the slightest bit when Laura unzipped them, letting her fingers graze slightly over a slip of cotton.

“What’s your name?” she breathed into the space between their mouths. Instead of answering, the girl just moved her fingers underneath Laura’s underwear, trailing the wetness one, two times, circling her clit, before slowly pushing two fingers in.

Laura’s head fell back against the concrete with a gasp, the girl mouthing something filthy against her neck but she couldn’t let this go, couldn’t –

She pressed two fingers against the girl’s clit, rubbing the spot while the girl continued fucking her and the whine that left her throat was all too telling. “What’s – your - name?” Laura insisted, arousal spiraling and the girl mewled frustrated, hips bucking when Laura didn’t give her more.

“Carmilla,” the girl snarled breathlessly and Laura grinned, pushing in two fingers and the girl’s head fell onto her shoulder, teeth biting her neck.

From then on it was a quickly mounting affair, hot breaths and uncoordinated kisses as they both lost control and Laura moved her free hand into the girl’s hair when she felt herself on the edge, forcing her to look at her.

Black pits, filled with something raw and unspeakable, stared back at her. Dark hair stuck to her skin, but there was no flush, no colour to it and Laura felt as if she’d seen something she was never supposed to. The other girl pressed a hand against Laura’s sternum, skin that was covered by fabric, her breath harsh against Laura’s cheek and there was something in her gaze, a question, barely formulated, as if she knew –

As if she knew.

“Carm…,” she whispered, feeling her control slipping as the pleasure got too intense and then she fell, waves crashing above her and she mouthed the girl’s name into the corner of her mouth, heard her whispering “Laura, Laura, Laura” back at her and didn’t even think of questioning it before she blacked out.

When she woke up, she was slumped against the same concrete wall, pants still unbuttoned with Carmilla nowhere to be seen.

+++

When she looks at herself in the mirror the next morning, her neck is covered in a line of angry, red bruises, her lips stained cherry red and sensitive to the touch. But that’s not even the most worrying part, no –

The skin around her hips and thighs, on her neck and face is covered in something that might be charcoal, might be ink – pitch-black lines that fade into gray – and Laura feels herself trembling when she realizes what they are.

Handprints.

She’s covered in black stained handprints, the most noticeable the pair wrapped around her neck and cheeks and she rubs at them until her skin is red and sore and she realizes that the drops mixing with the water from the shower are her own salty tears.

(They don’t wash off, but like the first line, they fade with each passing day while the tattoo spreading on Laura’s sternum grows darker.

It grows bigger, too.)

+++

“Stupid, Hollis. You’re just plain old stupid,” Laura chided herself and hastened her steps as her own heartbeat droned in her ears, “walking around the city in the middle of the night alone is just asking for trouble.” And of course, her phone was dead and she’d forgotten to take the bear spray her Dad kept sending her because she was stupid and she was going to get herself killed and –

She chanced a glance over her shoulder and gulped when she saw the outline of a car that seemed to have followed her for quite a while by now and almost broke out into a run as she crossed the bridge over the Don River on her way home. As if the driver of the creepy car realized her intentions, the headlights suddenly lit up, catching her in their midst and at that point, running wasn’t even a decision anymore.

She heard the engine roar, the car suddenly speeding towards her and Laura’s mind was a never-ending circle of “What the hell – what the hell – what the hell?!” as she jumped on the bridge’s balustrade in her heavy winter coat and backpack on to avoid getting run over.

The car stopped.

Breathing heavily, adrenaline-fueled blood pounding in her ears, she saw the car’s backlights light up red before it reversed, driving quickly back towards where Laura was still perched precariously on the balustrade. Laura didn’t pause to think before she quite possibly did the stupidest thing she’d ever done.

She jumped.

She jumped from that bridge and into the Don River and she knew that the river wasn’t very wide and that currents weren’t strong, but it was mid-April and the cold water almost sent Laura into shock once she breached the surface. She tried moving, desperately tried to paddle to find her way back up, but the water was dark, her heavy coat, boots and backpack dragging her down, hindering her movements and her lungs burned.

She knew that whoever had chased her was probably still on that bridge, probably still looking for her, but she needed to breathe, needed to breathe now –

Suddenly, another body shot into the water beside her, a flash of pale skin in the murky black water. Someone grabbed her shoulders tightly, almost bruising and she was pulled through the surface, fresh, cold air filling her aching lungs.

“Fucking move!” a voice snarled somewhere beside her and she knew that voice, knew that face –

“Carmilla?” Laura tried to gasp out, but it was all just dirty water and coughed up air and she tried to move, because the cold was paralyzing and where were fingers and her feet – her feet? Somehow, and Laura had no idea how, Carmilla managed to get them both to shore, soaked and gasping for air and once she had solid ground under her, Laura just collapsed.

“No, Laura, no, no, no…” Hands shook her, urging her back up and when the world stopped spinning, she saw Carmilla’s face hovering above her, black eye make-up dripping down her cheeks, shirt and pants clinging to her and a concerned expression on her face.

She smirked. “What? Didn’t I tell you to stay alive, Liebling?” she drawled and Laura couldn’t reply, couldn’t say anything. Because looking at that face, pale lines and dark eyes, she suddenly remembered another night so much like this one. That same face in the headlights of a car in a foggy night, broken glass and the smell of gasoline in the air as she cried and Laura remembered–

Laura remembered everything.

[absurdvampmuse]

Juxtapositions

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the comic books or the TV series. I am merely borrowing the characters. And all I own is my imagination and the laptop I wrote this on.

A/N: One more story to tide us all over until the next episode. I really hope you'll enjoy it. I also post on Archiveofourown so if you have the time, please find me there and review. :)

Juxtapositions

And despite his bad reputation, he will be the one that makes her feel safe.

Betty had seen him. She had witnessed him slip away when he thought no one was paying attention and walk away as if he had a secret to keep. Instinctively, she had followed him, both surprised and curious when he had led her to the Twilight Drive-In and disappeared inside through the backdoor with his employee key. Jughead hadn't come back out and not knowing quite what to make of it, she had left.

Yet, a couple of days later, on a Sunday morning, Betty couldn't fight the urge any longer, the feeling that something wasn't right. She traced his steps back to the movie theater. It was one of those quiet and crisp mornings on which most people were still lounging in bed or out for a late breakfast with friends. Her restlessness had woken her early and she had left the house swiftly and thoughtlessly in the slightly cropped flamingo pink t-shirt she had gone to bed in over a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and white sneakers. Her initial intention had been to go for a walk to clear her mind, but instead, her feet had carried her with a destination in mind and brought her to the same door Jughead had slipped through a few days before.

Betty tried the door, expecting to find it unlocked since there was usually an employee or two around who had gotten stuck with cleaning or preparing for some kid's party. She had never been inside the drive-in before and found the inside smaller than she had pictured it to be, the short hallway leading to a single room that acted as a storage space as well as held the movie projector. Film reels were everywhere she looked, but scattered throughout she spotted items that didn't belong: a plaid shirt slung over a chair, a pair of black ripped jeans left on the floor, paperbacks stacked on the bed and empty soda cans discarded on the desk. A bag that had clothes spilling from it sat in front of the bed, the entire room a reflection of the boy who had been calling this his home.

Sadness sunk into her bones, leaving her heart heavy. So many questions filled her head. Betty reached for the cell phone she remembered leaving at home after which she realized that Jughead didn't carry one anyway. In her current powerlessness, she lowered herself on the cot Jughead had been using as a bed as she looked around the room once more.

On his bed was where Jughead found her. A sudden and vivid pop of color amid the gray and charcoal, an intentional eye-catcher to draw in his gaze. She lay on her back, one hand curled close to her head while the other was sprawled on the sliver of bare skin that peeked out from beneath the ridden-up shirt. She looked comfortable as if it was something she had done before like she had been in his room before when really they had never been close enough. Each being the third wheel in their respective relationship with Archie. He sometimes wondered if she was as aloof as she seemed while she questioned if he was too aware of everything going on around him. But if he were honest with himself he knew that there were secrets behind those beguiling baby blues while she was aware of the fact that his inquisitive regard for others was a distraction, a way to keep the world and its people at bay.

Figuring that she most likely needed the rest, Jughead moved around the room as if he wasn't there at all, having experience in the act. He considered grabbing his laptop but didn't want to risk waking her prematurely so he settled on a book. He sat back in the single chair in the room, resting his feet on the table. He was on the 4th chapter when her eyes fluttered open, sleep still lacing her limbs as she sluggishly rolled onto her side, eyes instantly finding him.

You didn't wake me," she said in a tone that was supposed to be accusatory though the sharpness fell short.

"You needed it," Jughead declared simply. He held up the open book. "Plus, I've been meaning to reread this."

Her eyes didn't flick to the title of the novel in his hands but remained focused on him. "This is your room," she stated. "Is it that bad at home?" Betty knew that his father struggled religiously with his sobriety as well as maintaining a steady job. It wasn't a secret in this town, but it still hurt since Jughead knew that Betty's source had most likely been a more reliable one and that meant that Archie hadn't managed to keep his mouth shut.

"Dad," he started, lowering his eyes to the pages in front of him as if the solution was right there if he only knew how to interpret the words. "He tries. But after so many times, I don't want to be there and watch him fail over and over. He barely noticed whether I was there or not. It's more peaceful like this. For me."

Betty pushed herself upwards and his eyes shot upwards, her intent clear to him before her feet had managed to find the floor. He got up instead, the book already forgotten on the desk. He paced over to one of the many shelves, arms crossed as he pretended to go through the titles on the film reels.

"Juggy," she said his name softly as she attempted to hand him a lifeline, something to clutch onto so he wouldn't spiral downwards too far.

He recognized the benign intent behind it, even when he felt the anger flare up inside of him, cracking his outer shell. He lost his hold on it as if it were a rope that was being forcibly yanked out of reach. The emotion was misplaced, an inevitable reaction to all the things he had been keeping to himself. And like an out of body experience, he heard and saw the violent way the words left his mouth. "I'm not looking for your pity or help. You weren't even supposed to know. I'm doing just fine." He didn't know whether he was reassuring the girl on his bed or himself. He turned from the shelf to look at her, features set and hard as he continued. "You tell me who's doing better, me, who's on my own or you, stuck in that house with all of your family's lies and secrets all the while keeping up appearances and feigning as if your life is so perfect. Pretense breeds enervation." He delivered the final blow by simply nodding his head in her direction. "Just look at you."

Raw hurt cut through her expression suddenly and sharply and while she attempted to keep it all from showing because she knew this was just him lashing out, a symptom of his pain, the brace face she was putting on was crumbling.

Betty lowered her head, her chest tight and fingers pulling at the covers as she breathed through the tears that were so close to springing to her eyes. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." She looked up at him through hooded eyes. "Like you said, you're doing fine." She got up, fingers curled inwards. "I should get home. But just so you know, those secrets and lies you're referring to, they aren't mine. They're my mom and dad's. And Polly's. I'd like to be free of them one day. Though, I suppose I'd hoped that my friends would already know this." She tried meeting his eyes once, but he looked at everything but her as he silently came to terms that perhaps he was much more broken than he would like to admit.

Betty took the few steps over to the door, but Jughead was faster. He stood in front of her, fingers on her wrist as he caught her before she could pull open the door. "Betts," he said her name as if he already knew how futile his words would seem. The damage was done and hadn't his mom taught him how irrevocable words could be? Still, he tried, pouring all of his regret and dissatisfaction with himself and his situation into the words. "I didn't mean those things."

Betty let out the breath she had been holding, long lashes still hiding her eyes from him. "I know. They still hurt, though." She mustered a watery smile. "But it's okay. You're sad and when people are sad they sometimes pretend they're doing just fine." She used his own words against him to prove a point, even though there was only concern in her expression when she finally looked at him. "Where are you doing to stay once the Twilight Drive-In closes?"

Jughead looked young to her as he just shrugged, not having an answer for her. She laced her fingers with his and squeezed. "You're not alone in this, Jughead. We'll figure something out."

"That's why I didn't want anyone to find out. Especially you. It would be another thing for you to worry about."

She used her free hand to lightly shove against his chest, needing a physical release for the frustration she was feeling towards him. "You don't keep things from your friends just because you think it will worry them. That's what they're for. I'm for."

She tightened her hold on his hand and he smiled. "If I'm the Kettle you're the Pot."

"I'm fine," she told him, not wanting the light to fade from his eyes. She tried pulling her hand free, but Jughead wouldn't let her. A sigh escaped her. "There's something going on. My parents are lying to me about something. Something important. I just don't know what."

"Yet," Jughead fine-tuned her reply. "I'll be the Watson to your Holmes, Cooper."

He said it in a light way, taking the edge from their words, their secrets. Her gaze roamed over his face: the midnight locks so carelessly shoved beneath the crown beanie, the disarming conviction in his jaw and the kindness in his blue and green eyes. She worried about him. About what would happen to him when he already seemed unattached from the world and too derisive for his own good, cutting down not only others with his humor but also himself. But he was also so many other things that you only managed to catch a glimpse of if he let you get close enough. Unable to help herself, her other hand went up and she touched her fingers to his cheek.

"Don't retreat too much, Juggy. I would miss you too much." The words were cryptic but the emotion strong and genuine. It reverberated through him and it compelled him to tug at her hand and pull her against him, holding her to him. Betty's other hand clung to the shirt he was wearing while she pressed her face against his chest, inhaling him while his arm came around her waist. He wished he could take a snapshot of this exact moment, but he knew the restful feeling would be there every time he thought of it. The feeling of home.

"If I don't—can't figure out my situation, I'll let you know," he promised her. "Okay?" He whispered against her, her very feminine scent of vanilla and dandelions enveloping him, a wildness contained. Beautiful and fragile while simultaneously enduring and free. Her fingers were a slight and comfortable warmth against his chest, the thin fabric in between a nuisance, hindering a carnal connection.

He felt her nod against him. "Okay."

They stayed entwined for another breath or two, leaving their imprints on one another before disentangling.

"Let's go to Pop's. For lunch," Jughead suggested.

Betty looked down at herself, all of a sudden self-conscious of the bright pink shade of her shirt, the flash of bare skin. It was an insecurity brought on by her mother.

"Hey, at least you didn't sleep in your clothes."

Betty smiled at that, not thinking about the words too much. "I look fine," she agreed with him.

"Some would say more than fine even," Jughead leaned in and shared recklessly, his lips as close to her skin as they had ever been.

The colors of her cheeks deepened, the tone now closer to the shirt she was wearing. She didn't know where to look, though he offered her a distraction when he grabbed his denim jacket from a makeshift hook behind him and held it out to her. He had noticed how her arm had crept across her waist despite her words, or his.

Betty shrugged on his jacket without saying anything while he pulled on the flannel shirt he had tied around his waist.

Jughead opened the door for her, waiting for her to pass before he followed.

If people saw them, they would appear mismatched but it wasn't the external that bound them together, that mattered.

It was more deep-rooted than that.