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warfear · 4 years

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WHAT’S GOOD, PARTY PEOPLE ? the name’s mads : twenty - four summers young, in love with cj from dawn of the dead (2004), mortal enemies with amc’s the walking dead and so very excited to be here. thus, without further ado, below the cut you’ll find the basics—the general gist—about my horrible, poorly written bastard children.

trigger warnings for : cancer, death, kidnapping, abuse and assault !!

APOLSKIS, JULIAN — twenty-four, comic store clerk.

BASICS : born in seattle, julian moved to fort elms when he was a whooping eleven years old. why, you don’t ask. well, because he got diagnosed with a gnarly case osteosarcoma and his father took ONE LOOK at that hospital bill and vanished into thin air, that’s why ! so, mommy dearest took her kids and skipped town as well. for less horrible reasons, of course. since then, his cancer has came and went and came back again. until finally it went for the last time, taking his leg with it as it did. he’s cancer free now ! three years and counting. we do love that for him … depressing facts aside, he’s in a punk rock band because we gotta Stick It To The Man. they suck but he’s decent on the drums and that’s all that matters. him. yeah, he’s a bit of a prick. a lovable prick. loves to play the devil’s advocate and hates talking about his feelings because ~ romantic trauma ~. but other than that, a decent guy, alright ! put some respect to his name.

WANTED CONNECTIONS …

ex - girlfriend : bringer of trauma … she was his second ever girlfriend and their relationship was good, okay ! lasted almost two years. and then, without warning, she dumped him, THROUGH A NOTE. left without a word and that was that. a big bitch move, i’d say.

mother : the best mom there is ! worked three jobs to support her family after the deadbeat left, and is overall the best person juli knows and will ever know. she’s a second generation polish immigrant and very insistent on julian retaining his jewish heritage. pops was christian, so … gross.

father : not much to say about this bastard except he hasn’t spoken to his own children in thirteen years. not as much as a birthday card ! who knows where he is now. we’d like for him to be dead in a ditch but odds are he has a new family. i’d love for julian to knock him out, please hit me up for that.

hospital buddies : like i said, he spent most of his childhood in a hospital. so he must’ve made at least one friend there. they can be a teenager, they can be a senior citizen — as long as their friendship was thrust onto julian by sheer proximity and boredom. he’s obviously well now but i’d like for him to have a sliver of his past life close.

DIMEO, BRANDON — thirty-five, mall cop.

BASICS : very italian. a walking italian stereotype, really. his family is huge and he’s close with them all. too close. i’m talking yearly hunting trips, weekly family dinners, and a mother who still does his laundry. which means, yes, he’s a momma’s boy. a bit of a scrub, if you will. flopped out of the police academy in his early twenties, as he’d almost done high school, and settled for acting cop at the local mall. he’s a bit of a dumbass, and by a bit i mean a lot. unintelligent to the point where he can’t do basic math. emotionally unintelligent to the point where he can’t have a long - term relationship. we do love that. also a big fan of the charlie’s angels television series, AS HE SHOULD BE. he’d be an angel of charlie’s if he could be …

WANTED CONNECTIONS …

ex - girlfriend : i’m talking first and only. probably didn’t get together until his mid - late twenties, and didn’t last that long either. probably had issues with his weird relationship with his mother, probably didn’t appreciate that he couldn’t clean his own house, probably wanted a man and not a little boy. she definitely dumped him. oh, well.

family : he has A LOT. two parents ( i was gonna say obvi but is it obvi, i don’t think so. check yourself @ me ) and three brothers … but he’s the baby of the family, physically and mentally. i feel for his mother. i’d love for him to have a kid cousin, though. like one girl ( except his mommy ) he treats well. it’d be cute, shut up.

friends with benefits : pretty self - explanatory. no strings attached, no commitment, no expectations … it’s all poor donnie here can muster in life. so do give it to him, please and thank.

broskis : he needs friends ! who aren’t other mall cops ( sorry egg take it up with HR ) … maybe dudes he’s known since high school, his OG home - boys. either to enable his antics or to call him out on his shit. i’ll take anything for brodawg over here.

KINNEY, SAWYER — twenty-two, vet student.

BASICS : god’s favorite. just kidding … i don’t think her love for him is much reciprocated. first dropped off as an infant @ the local church’s doorstep, then adopted. all is well ! no, her adoptive parents die in a car crash thirteen years later. she was there, too. sole survivor … even her baby brother passing away in the accident. shit’s tough, my dudes. she still has her older siblings, but who cares about them. was diagnosed with epilepsy shortly after ( she hates it, thanks ) and now lives with a disorder to remind her even more of the event. BIG YIKE LET’S MOVE ON … she’s a ray of sunshine ! loves animals and soccer to death. a social butterfly with no concept of personal space. insistent on not minding her business, plagued by a constant need to be liked by EVERYONE. book smart, emotionally intelligent … yet a whole dumbass. we love to see it.

WANTED CONNECTIONS …

cousins : fun tidbit, after her parent’s death she moved in with her uncle and his children. so, give me those very children ! her siblings are both older than herself and i’m dying for some same - aged partners in crime here. who played soccer with her after school ? who tried beer with her for the very first time ? i am WAITING.

soccer pals : captain of the local girl’s soccer team, since seventeen baby, sawyer’s in dire need of her soccer pals. y’all ever see the netflix original girls with balls ? yeah, me neither, but that could still be them versus the zombies. they’re all so close and athletic i NEED them to team up against the undead.

toxic church friends : i’m not calling christianity toxic … i’m calling white church going pinterest loving bitches toxic. i just think it’d be neat for her to have people from that part of her life really pushing this ~ religious agenda ~ onto her further. you know, shaming everything that she does. WHY NOT ! can’t think of a single reason why not, actually.

someone to get under : look … last year she got DUMPED by her boyfriend. it was rude as hell ! you don’t need to know his reason, okay … she did no wrong, mind your business … either way, give me SOMEONE ELSE for her to focus on so she can finally get over that skinny motherfucker. it doesn’t have to be reciprocated AT ALL, homies. she can thirst from afar … as long as her attention is redirected from ex - boyfriend to wow - possible - boyfriend. ja feel me ? cool.

OSWALT, KEVIN — twenty-one, waitress.

BASICS : born in fort elms as rowan blake, this teensy bitch had a good life going. two parents, three older siblings, one cool ass dog… you get the gist. but all things must come to an end, no ? so, when rowan here was five years old, she was approached by a teenage girl by the name ryan, and booboo the fool as she was, rowan followed this older, much cooler girl right into a stranger’s car… and then rowan was no more ! she spent the next year thirteen years of her life as kevin oswalt, living with her new sister and new mother — creepily nicknamed mama. to say her life with the oswalt’s was good would be… well, it’d be a lie. because kevin wasn’t the first kid they ‘napped, and neither was she the last. lets just say that house was a shit - fest and we should be glad she managed to run away at the tender age of seventeen. by sheer luck, she wound up back in fort elms and by even more luck, she managed to get an education and graduate. unrealistic ? take it up with 2016 me. other than that super fun backstory, kevin’s baby. she likes books ( always has, though it was her only form of entertainment for a good chunk of her life there ) and she likes french fries. she’s still discovering the world around her, even if she has been out and about for about four - ish years now. so if she’s a BIT NAIVE, then excuse her…

WANTED CONNECTIONS …

ex - boyfriend : not to go into too many details but kev’s introduction to the dating scene was less than ideal… barely legal and kept under wraps for A YEAR. it sucked, okay. not a good first experience, IN MY OPINION. kevin has another but she’s stupid. EITHER WAY, that left her kinda fucked - up when it comes to relationships. so, when she started dating her other ex circa summer 2017, she was pretty not - that - into - him. sorry we can’t all be over our 30 year old boyfriends… she never even said those three little words and them bitches dated for a year. TRAGIQUE.

brother : tragically, throughout the years, kevin’s brother is the single family member not picked up and that’s just… fucked, if you ask me. either way — his name is marcus blake but you can change his first to whatever ! he’s the sibling she was closest to as a wee bairn, alright. and i need him here… even if he wouldn’t know her as his sister anymore, but seeing as kev has managed to weasel her way into the blake family through mother and sisters REGARDLESS if anybody remembers or not, i’d say they’d cross paths anyway. oh, and he’s in a band… which isn’t to say juli’s, i mean it could be, but that’s not what i’m saying… anyways, that’s all.

bad influence : kevin’s too nice. and i don’t like it. so, please, pretty please, give me a plot of pure mayhem. somebody less outwardly chaotic than pippa but more scheming, and maybe capable of convincing kevin to grow a spine. think penelope and josie in legacies… but not gay. i mean, it COULD be gay. i’m not saying it HAS to be gay… mind your business.

victim by proxy : okay, hear me out… the oswalts are crazy people, and although kevin would like to be excluded from that narrative, she simply cannot. so, consider giving me somebody with some sort of connection to the kiddos missing ( alternatively : to the man she shanked… girls, ya gotta read her bio, i’m not exposing her further :see_no_evil: ) so kevin’s guilt can just SKYROCKET. that’s fun, right ? make friends with some poor bitch who’s little bro went missing, knowing full well what happened… sickening, kev, get help.

ROSILIO, ODETTE — thirty-five, florist.

BASICS : flaky defined. dropped out of high school, dropped out of california, dropped out of her own wedding … i mean, the list goes on. originally from mexicali, mexico odette moved to chino, california at the ripe age of five. her mother then proceeded to lose custody six years later. * that one vine vc * WAY TO GO, PAUL ! in and out of foster care since, eventually choosing to stay out for the remainder of her teens. until she got herself knocked up ( not by choice but ait ) and was forced to move back in with mommy … but hey, it all turned out fine in the end ! and when her daughter was four years old, she dipped forever. she’s since been living all over the states, only moving to fort elms five - ish years ago. and has indeed stayed put since. even if she did manage to pull a runaway bride. a bit of a bitch move, but at least she’s consistent. ish. because she’s not a bitch, okay, she’s simply … out of fucks to offer the world. can i get an amen.

WANTED CONNECTIONS …

ex - fiancé : like i said … left at the altar, that’s gotta knock you down a peg. or two. but she didn’t mean to stomp on his balls like that. in fact, they were very much in love at one point. dated for about two years until marriage was brought up and well, cold feet took over. and there’s no coming back from being a no show at your own wedding, is there. so that was that. marriage over before it even started. they didn’t get much of closure but that’s life for you.

mother : a horrible mother, plain and simple. she was in and out of jail when odette was in her custody, mostly due to drug related charges which was … not cute, girlie was like eight years old. though who knows, maybe she’s cleaned up her act, and maybe she’s ready to get back in her daughter’s life. or maybe she’s just looking for money … either way, get miss marisa to washington !

employees : i want … snotty teens, or early twenties bitches that she’ll have to manage. she’s had it with her own daughter, why not add more children for her to boss around. that, or somebody at work who she doesn’t wanna clock. an ally amongst the flowers.

chino friends : odette did indeed spend her early to mid teens on the streets and she must’ve made some friends along the way except for kai ( here’s your one mention of the simp @ salem ) … either some bad influences or some good ones. y’all ever seen the movie thirteen ? exactly like that. give me some blasts from the past to bring out the old odette.

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doomedhowell · 6 years

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It’s All Fun And Games (Until You Get Blackmailed)

Summary: Dan and Phil are in a relationship, but everybody at school thinks they hate each other. In order to have a fun date night, Dan and Phil travel out of town so nobody recognizes them. They think they’re safe, but are they?

Genre: AU

Word Count: 3,385

Trigger Warnings: swearing (from both Dan and Phil)

A/N: Thank you so much @waitforiiiiiiiiiiiit for being kind enough to beta this! :D

“Hi Dan!”

“Hey,” Dan smiles at the group of girls, chuckling to himself when they all squeal with excitement. Honestly, Dan thinks it’s hilarious that he can speak just one single word to the girls around this school, and they all lose their minds. Dan will never date any of them of course, but why not have a little fun?

Dan gasps as soon as he bumps into someone. “Shit-!” He looks up and his eyes widen slightly when he sees that it’s none other than Phil Lester. Dan glares at him. “Watch where you’re fucking going, Lester…”

Phil chuckles. “Easy, tiger. Might want to watch that language of yours,” he says.

“Fuck off,” Dan snaps. “Are you always a dick? I’m just curious.”

“That’s funny, Howell. Are you always a slut?” Phil retorts quickly, surprising Dan by his choice of words. They’ve always bickered with each other during school, but Phil has never gone that far. “I’m just curious. Next time, why don’t you watch where you’re fucking going?” He smirks, and then he turns around and walks away without saying another word to Dan, leaving Dan speechless.

Dan takes a deep breath as he stands there, ignoring the stares that he’s getting from the other students. He quickly continues on his way, heading straight to his locker so he can get to class.

“Howell!”

Dan stops what he’s doing and looks over, seeing one of his soccer teammates run up to him. “Yeah?”

“You coming to the party this weekend?”

“Party?” Dan asks, raising his eyebrows at Alex. “What party?”

“Adam is throwing a party on Saturday, and everybody’s invited. You coming?”

“Dude, the coach is going to fucking kill us if he finds out we were all at a party on Saturday. We’ve got a game after school on Monday,” Dan says, shutting his locker.

“Since when did you start caring about what the coach says?” Alex asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I don’t. I just don’t want to get kicked off the team for doing something stupid,” Dan sighs. “Look, I can’t. But, maybe next time. I’ve got plans this weekend.”

“Whatever, dude, wanna skip class? I could really use a smoke right now.”

Dan bites his lip, debating on whether or not he should skip. “Well, we’re only watching a movie today. So, hell yeah. Let’s skip. Let me put my books away first,” he says, re-opening his locker.

“Wait a minute… you were actually going to go to class?” Alex laughs.

“Shut up,” Dan reaches over and pushes him playfully, and then puts his books back into his locker.

While Dan is hanging outside behind a building with Alex, smoking, he receives a text.

“Someone’s popular,” Alex jokes when Dan’s phone dings.

Dan rolls his eyes and pulls his phone out. He looks down and bites his lip nervously when he sees that he’s got a text from Phil. He’s still upset about Phil calling him a slut earlier.

What most people don’t know is that Dan and Phil are actually dating. They have been for nine months, nobody knows because they decided to keep it a secret to protect their school reputations.

Dan and Phil are the bad boys of the school. In reality, they are quite similar to each other, but people think that they hate each other. They’re constantly trying to one-up each other and trying to impress the other students and even some of the teachers. Whether it be with the clothes they wear, skipping classes, or seeing who can make the other jealous by flirting with other students. That’s how it’s always been between the two of them, and they wanted it to keep it that way. For now, anyways.

Dan opens the text, and sighs when he sees that it’s an apology from Phil.

From Phil: i’m sorry baby, i didn’t mean to call you a slut earlier. i took it too far. i hope you’re not mad at me

From Dan: ur lucky i love u, come over after school?

From Phil: i’ll be there love u

Dan smiles as he reads the texts. He’s glad Phil apologized, otherwise it would have bothered Dan.

“Who the hell are you texting that’s got you giggling like a little girl over there?”

Dan jumps and looks over at Alex, sighing. “Christ, Al. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Alex smirks, proud of himself. “Maybe. Are you going to answer my question or not?”

Dan sighs. “I was not giggling like a little girl. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was a crime to smile these days,”

“Well, it’s not. But, seeing you be all smiley and shit because of someone texting you is something that you don’t really see very often. So, are you going to spill the beans on who this person is?” Alex asks.

“It was just my mom,” Dan lies quickly. “It’s about something we have planned this weekend. I’m excited.”

“Hm,” Alex says before sticking his cigarette back into his mouth.

Dan sighs and leans back against the building, wishing this school day would just be over now.

After school, Dan says goodbye to his friends before getting into his car and heading home to see Phil.

Phil is already waiting for him on his porch when Dan gets home.

“Hey,” Dan smiles as he walks up onto the porch, and is immediately engulfed into a hug. “Phil!”

“God, I’m so fucking sorry Dan. I know I already sent you a text but I need to apologize again. I shouldn’t have said that earlier and I wish I could take it back. I don’t think you’re a slut,” Phil rambles.

“Phil,” Dan laughs and then he pulls away from the hug. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. I promise I’m not mad.”

“I’m just worried someone heard me say that and they’re going to make it worse,” Phil mumbles.

“Whatever. If it happens, then I’ll deal with it. I’m not worried,” Dan says. He reaches up and kisses Phil. “Come on, let’s go inside.” He grabs Phil’s hand and leads the way inside. “I’m home!” He shouts loudly, before running up the stairs with Phil to his bedroom. He quickly shuts the door, and then he turns around and kisses roughly Phil. “You owe me for what you said earlier.”

“You said you weren’t mad at me,” Phil pouts.

“I’m not mad at you. I promise I’m not. But, you still owe me,” Dan smirks.

“And, what would you like from me?” Phil asks, raising his eyebrows.

“You know exactly what I want-” Dan grabs Phil and leads him over to the bed.

Later on, Dan and Phil decide they want to do something outside of the house instead of the normal ‘making popcorn and try to find a movie on Netflix to watch’ which usually ends with them giving up.

It’s risky, but they decide to go somewhere where hopefully no one from school will recognize them.

Dan and Phil decide on going to an arcade that’s about an hour away from where they live. Unfortunately, they only have a couple of hours to spend with each other due to their curfew set by their parents, so they’re taking advantage of every second they have.

“I hope you’re ready to lose at air hockey,” Phil smirks as he looks at Dan as they walk through arcade.

“Bitch, yeah right-” Dan rolls his eyes. “I kick your ass every time we play air hockey. Today’s no different!”

Phil laughs, knowing how competitive Dan is. Dan hates losing no matter what the competition is; whether it’s playing games at the arcade or simply playing Mario Kart, and does whatever he can to prev Phil from not winning. Phil doesn’t even care if he loses. He just finds Dan’s competitiveness so entertaining.

“Wanna make this more interesting?” Dan asks as he and Phil stand at the air hockey table.

“Go on?” Phil raises his eyebrows as he looks up at Dan curiously.

“Okay, it’s not that interesting. But, how about a challenge? Loser buys dinner,” Dan grins.

Phil laughs. “Okay, you’re so on, buddy,” he says, grabbing a hockey puck and placing it in the middle.

Much to Dan’s surprise, Phil ends up winning air hockey overall.

“What the hell?” Dan throws his arms up angrily after the game is over. “You cheated!”

“Whatever. You’re pissed that I won and now you have to pay for dinner. So, what are you buying me?”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying. I can’t believe I put up with you-” Dan mumbles, shoving Phil away.

“Aw, come on, baby-” Phil quickly pulls Dan back to him and he quickly wraps his arms around Dan, which gives Dan no room to escape. Dan can’t help but allow himself to melt into Phil’s arms. Phil smiles, and leans down to kiss Dan gently a few times.

“You’re lucky I love you so much that I don’t actually mind buying dinner for you.”

“But the fact that you lost?” Phil asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m furious,” Dan laughs, escaping from Phil’s hold. “Come on, we gotta go find somewhere to eat.”

Dan and Phil end up having an amazing date night together, despite Dan losing at air hockey, but Dan honestly just loves being able to spend time with Phil without worrying about one of their classmates seeing them together. It’s rare when they get to act like this in public.

However, the fun doesn’t last very long.

It’s the next morning when Dan wakes up to a horrifying anonymous text, which consists of a picture of him and Phil kissing at the arcade last night. Dan has no idea who took this picture or sent the text.

The picture also comes with a text: I knew there was something going on with you two, and now I have proof. Meet me after school tomorrow and we’ll talk. Say anything to anyone, especially Lester, and I won’t hesitate leaking the picture.

Dan closes his eyes when he finishes reading the text.

“Fuck!” Dan cries before burying his face in his hands, unable to stop the tears from pouring out.

The worst part is, he can’t even tell Phil about this, otherwise the picture will be leaked. Dan doesn’t even know who this person is. It could be anyone. Someone he knows personally, or a stranger. Dan’s terrified.

Dan tries his best acting normal the next day at school, but it’s obvious that he’s distracted and jumpy. Dan’s been avoiding Phil all morning which isn’t that weird to the other students in school considering they all think Dan and Phil hate each other. But Dan can tell that Phil’s getting annoyed with him, as Dan’s not answering any of his text messages, so Phil knows that something is wrong.

From Phil: love u baby, did I do something wrong? pls answer asap i’m worried about u … are u still coming over tonight?

Dan groans and closes his eyes after he reads Phil’s latest text messages, making him feel even more terrible about ignoring him. Dan feels terrible about this whole thing, but he can’t risk talking to Phil because the pictures will be leaked and that’s not how Dan wants his and Phil’s relationship to be known.

“Something got you feeling down, Howell?”

Dan’s head instantly snaps up at the familiar voice. He looks over and his eyes widen when he sees Alex walking into view. He’s been waiting outside of school for about ten minutes for the anonymous texter.

“A-Alex?” Dan asks, taking a deep breath. “Y-You were the one who texted me last night?”

“That’s right,” Alex replies with a smirk, before he walks over to him. “I’m honestly surprised that you didn’t figure it out right away it was me when I told you to come meet me at this exact spot. I mean, we always meet here when we skip. You’re cute, Dan, but you aren’t very bright, are you?”

“Hey, shut up! A lot of people meet here,” Dan quickly defends himself. “Alright, Alex. I haven’t told Phil, in fact, I’ve been completely avoiding him all day, so talk. How did you get that picture of me and Phil?”

“I was visiting a friend last night in that area and we were at the arcade,” Alex tells him.

Dan silently curses. “I thought we were safe,”

“Guess not. I knew you were gay. But, really… Phil Lester?” Alex asks.

“What’s wrong with Phil?” Dan asks, ready to defend his boyfriend.

“Nothing’s wrong with him. I’m just surprised you chose him. You could have anyone you want. Like... me,”

Dan frowns, and looks up at Alex. “What are you trying to say here, Alex?” He asks nervously.

“Dammit, I’m in love with you, Dan!” Alex yells, making Dan jump. “Shit, we’ve been friends for years, and I’ve had a crush on you since we met, but you’ve been completely oblivious this whole time.”

“Alex,” Dan whispers with shock, and then he shakes his head. “You should have said something, Al!”

“Yeah, and what the hell was I supposed to say?” Alex asks. “I didn’t know you were gay back then. I was just figuring out that I was gay and I was worried that I would lose you as a friend.”

“I would have never judged you for being gay. I don’t judge you for being gay now,” Dan says. “So, what? What are we doing here? You’re not going to tell anyone about our relationship, are you?”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Alex shakes his head.

Dan sighs in relief. “Thank God. I knew you wouldn’t actually tell anyone,” he smiles.

“Not unless I get what I want,” Alex adds quickly.

Dan blinks a few times. “And, what is it exactly that you want?” He asks.

“You,” Alex says simply. “I thought I made it clear what I wanted?”

“What? No. I’m sorry, Al. But, I’m with Phil. I love him,” Dan says. “I thought I made that clear.”

“I know that, Dan. I’m not a fucking idiot,” Alex snaps before taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I-I just… fuck, I’ve always wanted to feel what it’s like to be with the Dan Howell.”

“So, you think blackmailing me is going to achieve that? You’re sick, Al. I thought you were my friend,”

“Well, I want you as more than a friend!” Alex yells, before grabbing Dan and kissing him harshly.

Dan’s eyes widen with shock, and then he quickly pushes Alex away before the kiss goes further. “Enough!” He cries as he takes deep breaths. “I’m really sorry, Alex. I’m sorry that it has to end this way but we can’t be together. The only person I want to be with right now is Phil and nothing will change that, so I don’t care if you post that picture. I really hope you decide to do the right thing because no one should be outed that way. But do what you have to do, I guess. I-I have to go,” Dan shakes his head, and then he runs away from Alex as fast as his feet can possibly take him.

Dan gasps when he bumps into someone.

“Dan?”

Dan looks up and his eyes widen when he sees that it’s Phil who he’s run into.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

Dan doesn’t realize he’s crying until Phil wipes away his tears.

Dan sobs and falls into Phil’s arms. “I’m sorry, Phil! It’s my fault! I should have been more careful…”

Phil frowns as Dan rambles on, though he still keeps the smaller boy close to his chest. “Dan, what…?” He bites his lip, and then he pulls away from Dan. “Come on, let’s go sit in the car and calm down.”

Phil quickly leads Dan over to his car, and the two get in.

Phil looks over at Dan once they’re both settled into the car. “Dan, talk to me. What happened?”

Dan takes a deep breath before looking up at Phil. “I should have told you as soon as I got the text, but… I was too scared. I couldn’t risk it,” he says.

“What text are you talking about?” Phil asks softly.

“I got an anonymous text last night after I got home. It was a picture of me and you kissing at the arcade. They told me not to tell anyone until we talk because they would leak the picture otherwise, so I met up with the person after school just now,” Dan explains, hoping that Phil won’t be upset.

“Dan,” Phil’s eyes widen after Dan finishes. “Jesus Christ, Dan. I’ve been fucking worrying about you all damn day! I thought I did something wrong, or that you were going to break up with me.”

“No,” Dan shakes his head. “I-I just wanted to talk to this person first.”

“So, who sent you the text?” Phil asks curiously.

“Alex,” Dan mumbles. “Alex sent me the picture. He was going to blackmail me. He’s in love with me, Phil. He wanted me to be with him, not you.”

“That son of bitch!” Phil yells, clenching his fists angrily. “I’ll kill him. Did he do anything to you?”

“Phil, can we talk at home please?” Dan begs. “All I know is that there’s a chance Alex is going to leak that picture and the whole school will find out about us. I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

“Dan, no-” Phil reaches over and grabs Dan’s hand. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is!” Dan snaps. “I’m the one who suggested that we go out of town for our date.”

“Dan, listen to me. We both thought it was safe. There’s absolutely no way that you or I could have known that Alex was going to be there on the same day as us. It is not your fault,” Phil warns softly.

Dan closes his eyes. “I just didn’t want our relationship to come out like this,” he whispers.

“I know, and I wish there was something I could do to change it,” Phil whispers before pulling Dan into a comforting hug. “We just have to wait and see what happens. That’s all I can say.”

Dan pulls away from the hug. “It’s all fun and games until your best friend decides to blackmail you,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

So when Dan walks into school on Friday morning, he expects to be hit with stares and whispers from the other students. But, he’s shocked when he walks in without a single look from anybody.

This is not what he expected. Did Alex not leak the picture of him and Phil together?

Maybe Alex actually did have a change of heart.

Dan nervously walks to his locker by himself. He and Phil decide not to walk into school together tomorrow in case a miracle happened. If Alex doesn’t end up posting the picture, then they still want to come out on their own terms. And, right now… they just aren’t ready to come out yet as a couple.

Dan opens his locker, his hands shaking slightly. He looks around. Still nothing.

Then, he surprisingly spots Alex down at the end of the hallway. Dan stares at him with wide eyes, and he can actually see the guilty look on Alex’s face. Alex gives him a small smile before turning around and walking away. This surprises Dan. Alex had been acting totally different yesterday, after admitting that he’d been in love with Dan this whole time. But now, it seems that he has had a change of heart.

Dan’s unsure of what this means for his and Alex’s friendship, but right now, he’s just happy and relieved that his and Phil’s relationship still remains a secret, and hopefully they’ll be able to come out soon.

Dan quickly pulls out his phone and then sends a text to Phil.

From Dan: I just saw Alex. I don’t think he posted the picture. I think we’re in the clear.

From Phil: that’s such a relief. keep me updated. love u have a good day baby

Dan can’t help but smile at Phil’s second message. He turns around and leans against his locker, and can’t help but sigh in relief. Maybe things will be okay after all.

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #au #fluff #badboy #badboy!dan #badboy!phil #establishedrelationship #highschool #secretrelationship #100

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okayhotshots · 6 years

Text

the more things change; jake x amy

ao3 link | tell me what you think

***

Jake Peralta isn’t big on change. He’s had the same car, same mattress, same attitude for longer than he can remember. But when his feelings for Amy Santiago come into play, Jake will either have to learn to deal with change or run from it.

A sequence of snapshots into Jake’s mind as his feelings for Amy change over time.

***

i. the “date” turned stakeout

He’s probably the furthest thing from romantic that a person can get. It’s not that he lacks the ability or the desire to be romantic, he’s just never had a reason. He prefers the light and breezy path of life he’s chosen to take. No broken hearts. No pining. No romance. He doesn’t need any of that. It would only distract him from work, and honestly, work is what matters most to him.

But, as he learned very quickly when he became a cop, things can change in the blink of an eye. And he had no idea when he took Amy Santiago out for their disaster date, that things would change.

Maybe it wouldn’t have if they hadn’t been sent to the stakeout location. He would have spent the night embarrassing her and rubbing his victory in her face. She would have been beyond annoyed and probably never would have spoken to him again. He’s glad things worked out this way.

He doesn’t realize what’s happening at first. The flirting and the teasing? It seemed so normal. They had never been quite this alone before, and Jake was seeing sides of Amy he’d never seen before, and somehow, seeing her in a new light all together.

But something changes. He doesn’t know the exact moment. It’s fleeting, but every so often, he’ll get a fluttering in his chest and swooping in his stomach when Amy does something he would normally consider annoying, and a warmth spreads through him when she smiles and when she laughs. It’s even worse when he’s the one to make her do either of those things. But it’s those changes that make it impossible for him to tell Holt to send the night team. He plays it off with Amy the next day, but it’s honestly the best date he’s ever had, spun from a bet or not.

When he finally gets home from the stakeout, he collapses on his bed, fully prepared to pass out to the sounds of Netflix in the background, but he can’t stop thinking about her. He closes his eyes but all he can see his Amy laughing on that rooftop as she attempted to catch a nut with nothing but her mouth.

It’s never been like this for him. It’s all sex jokes and one-night stands. He doesn’t catch feelings for people. He saw what it did to his mom when his dad left, and he never wanted to feel the way she felt. But god damn it. Amy has taken over every single one of his thoughts, and there’s nothing he can do to shake it.

The scariest part is, he’s not sure he wants to.

ii. the missed opportunity

He spends too long being afraid.

He keeps trying to tell himself that he’s somehow misunderstood his friendship with Amy for something more. Stranger things have happened. There was that week in middle school when he thought he might be into Gina. Thankfully, that week was so weird for both of them, neither one of them ever bring it up.

But he knows this is different. No one has ever consumed him like Amy. No one else has ever worked their way into every single thought he has, settled into his heart the way she has. But he’s scared. Jake Peralta, the guy who rushes into crime scenes without a second thought, is scared of letting himself feel something for someone.

It’s not just that he’s afraid he might get hurt. (Even though that’s a large part of it). He’s also worried about what it could do to their friendship, to the great dynamic they have going on at work. He likes having Amy in his life. Especially since they’ve grown closer since the stakeout. They even hang out when they aren’t at work. He doesn’t want to lose her entirely. So he keeps his mouth shut and his feelings secret.

That’s when Teddy comes along. It comes completely out of left field. Amy doesn’t usually date, and if she does, she’s very secretive about it. And by the time he realizes Teddy is making a move, and even worse, that Amy’s into it, it’s too late.

He beats himself up for it. Jake doesn’t miss windows of opportunity, especially not because he’s scared of the consequences that might unfold if he climbs through. That’s why when Amy and Teddy join them at the bar one night, he buys everyone a round before taking his beer and disappearing into a corner alone.

He could talk to someone about it, but what would be the point? Amy is dating someone else. She’s probably happy, and he’s just going to have to live with it. Besides, Charles and Gina can’t keep secrets and Rosa doesn’t do feelings. And the one person he would really be comfortable talking it out with is Amy but that’s off the table for more reasons than one.

Terry is the one that gets him out of his slump. They drink more than they should that night, and as Terry practically drags him back to his apartment, Jake finds himself spilling more than he ever planned on spilling.

“Terry, she’s just so great,” he says, vision blurry and words slurring more and more by the second. “I know I give her hell, but she’s great.”

He isn’t sure what Terry says in response. But he’s sure it has to do with the fact that he keeps repeating himself. He wonders, for a moment, if he should just call her. Only to be thankful the next morning that Terry took his phone.

He doesn’t remember getting home. He wakes up on his couch, a sloppy note from Terry on his coffee table. Something about Amy, and the location of his phone.

His head is pounding as he pushes himself into a sitting position, and he runs his fingers through his hair. He knows he drank too much. And it didn’t even work. He was drinking in hopes that it would make him forget Amy for awhile, but all it did was make his head hurt. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to gain some composure before he gets up. But emories from last night start flooding in.

He remembers standing outside the bar, arm and arm with Terry singing a song he thinks might be from RENT. He remembers drunkenly walking into a Taco Bell and getting a 12-pack of tacos. And finally he remembers Terry dragging him into the elevator and into his apartment. And he kind of wishes he could forget what he remembers next.

Terry had just finished lowering him onto the couch, when Jake looked up at him, pointing a finger in his direction. “Terry, can I tell you something I haven’t told anyone?”

He thinks that the sarge might have been closer to sober than he was at that point, because he nodded. “Sure, Peralta. Lay it on me.”

“I love her,” Jake said, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. “I’m in love with Amy Santiago.”

He feels like his heart has dropped into his stomach, and the warm feeling he gets when he’s with Amy is far from him now. Instead, a rush of cold, icy, fear washes over him.

He just had too much to drink, right? Sure, he likes Amy, but he’s not in love with her. He decides that it’s the alcohol he has to blame, pushing the memory to the back of his mind, content to forget that it ever happened. As far as the sarge knows, he doesn’t even remember it.

iii. romantic-stylez

Jake is a master at playing pretend. Or maybe he’s just so busy with work, he doesn’t have time to think about Amy and Teddy, and the fact that he told Terry that he’s in love with her.

Either way, things get a little easier. He’s able to focus around Amy again. They work well together, they tease, and bicker, and sometimes they still hang out. But it’s harder now. Amy likes to talk about Teddy, and he has no valid reason to ask her to stop. If he did, it would only make things harder for her. It would ruin everything, so he grins and bears it.

He’s learned to stop being shocked when things change. That’s just how the world works, and he has, to a point, come to accept that. But he tries not to let it throw him too far off track. He hyper-focuses on work, doing his best to move on.

It would be his luck, that he stumbles on a case being investigated by the FBI. If this had been a couple months ago, Jake would have been through the roof. He would have gone undercover without a second thought, ready to be the cop he always wanted to be. But things have changed, they always do.

He still agrees to do the op. He’d be an idiot not to. But that means danger, that means possible death, and no contact with the Nine-Nine for the operations entire length.

He wrestles with his brain for hours. At first, he thinks he’s just being dramatic. Nothing is going to happen to him, he doesn’t have to say anything to Amy about the way he feels. But he’s quick to remember that things don’t always go as planned, and he’s stumbling out of the precinct to catch Amy before he can stop himself.

Amy looks shocked and mostly confused as he tells her how he feels. He doesn’t say he loves her. He’s still not sure he really does. But he does tell he wishes they could be together. Not quite as eloquently, but it gets the point across. He runs away before he can get a response.

He spends the next six months wondering what effect his words would have on her. He wonders if she’s still with Teddy, if she feels the same way. And he misses her. More than he would care to admit.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. Amy stays with Teddy, and Jake feels like a fool for thinking Amy could ever feel that way about him.

iv. the distraction

Either Terry doesn’t remember Jake confessing his love for Amy, or he thinks it’s a lost cause. He’s the one that actually convinces him to try and move on, and Jake, stupidly, takes the advice.

Sophia is great. She’s beautiful, smart, funny, and they have a lot in common. He genuinely enjoys spending time with her, despite the fact their jobs conflict a lot. He likes her, and he wants them to work.

Jake quickly learns that just because you want something to work doesn’t mean it will. He’s been playing pretend so long, he’s starting to believe it’s real. So when he pretends that he’s over Amy, he’s convinced himself that he is. Even though he’d rather hang out with Amy than go on a date with Sophia. He never admits that out loud, of course, it’s rare he even thinks it.

Part of him knows it’s not fair to string Sophia along. And he knows he’s being selfish keeping her around as a distraction, but he can’t let go. Maybe it’s because he wants to believe he can get over Amy. Or maybe it’s because he thinks that this is how to get over Amy. Either way, he’s almost desperate to get her to stay.

Things are weird after the dinner with Amy and Teddy. Sophia tries to let him down gently, but he won’t have it. Playing pretend has made him believe he might be in love with Sophia and he won’t miss another window of opportunity. So, as usual, Jake embarrasses himself.

It doesn’t hit him just what a negative effect this whole thing has had on Sophia until she’s standing in front of him with tears in her eyes, recalling that awkward dinner and the look on his face when he found out Amy used to have feelings for him.

“I saw the way you looked at her.”

He tried to so hard to play it off. But he knew he failed when a few of her tears actually slipped down her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sophia let out a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Jake, you looked at her the way you’re supposed to look at me.”

And it’s then, perhaps for the first time, he realizes just how deep in this he is.

v. six months in

He can’t thank Rosa enough for setting this up for them. Jake has never been the romantic type. He always wanted to be, but he never had a reason. But with Rosa’s help, and a little bit of prompting, it all comes together pretty easily, and the look on Amy’s face makes it all worth it.

They spend the night searching through bookshelves, and he listens to Amy tell him about her favorite stories. And the warmth in his chest has only grown into a fire that consumes him every time he’s in Amy’s presence and he’s okay with that.

She fallS asleep in the early hours of the morning, their backs pressed against a shelf, her head resting on his shoulder, a light snore escaping her lips.

He watches for a few minutes as she sleeps, unable to deny any longer that he’s head-over-heels in love with her. He remembers months ago when Amy was still with Teddy, how she mentioned how how bad break-ups were and how she hoped she never had to go through one again. At the time, he had used it to gauge how well their relationship was going, but now he understands.

In that moment, he doesn’t know if she’s the one, but he knows he’d be devastated if this didn’t work out, or end on a positive note. Amy is sunlight and happiness, and makes him feel things he never thought he would feel. He doesn’t want to break up, and he’s going to do everything he can to make sure they don’t.

vi. april twenty-eighth

He’s learned not to be shocked when things change, in fact, Amy’s kind of taught him to embrace it. New mattress, new apartments, new places, new stories. That’s why when everything changes one random day in April, he isn’t afraid.

Jake is scrolling through his phone, trying to find something on his timeline other than Gina’s endless tweets. His phone vibrates signaling another test from Rosa, but he’s quickly distracted.

Amy gasps from her spot in the bed beside of him, and he looks over with a raised eyebrow. She’s doing a crossword, what could be so shocking? When she notices that he’s looking, she shifts the paper a little so Jake can get a better look.

“There’s a typo in the crossword!”

His expression softens as she goes back to concentrating, and his heart has dropped to his stomach in the best way. A slight smile pulls on the edge of his lips, and he feels at peace. And it dawns on him, he never wants this end. Relaxing after work, Amy nerding out over her crossword puzzles, just being with her. He wants to do this for the rest of his life. And not with anyone but Amy Santiago.

The random day in April quickly becomes something more. It becomes the day he stops running. It becomes the day he stops being afraid. It becomes the day that he makes the best decision he’s ever made. It becomes the day he decides he wants to marry the love of his life.

#b99 fanfic #jake x amy #peraltiago #b99 fic #idk what this is but i like it #enjoy i guess #my writing

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lilibug--xx · 7 years

Text

Lemon Drops and Chocolate Chips

CHAPTER 4 ( 3, 2, 1 )

Here is the next chapter! Sorry this one took me a while. Hoping to turn out chapter 5 a little quicker. This ones ends in a bit of cliffhanger again. Thanks to my tol bean, @strix for being my super talented, amazing beta.

Read it on ao3 here.

Betty swallowed a large gulp of beer from the bottle she had raised to her lips before Jughead spoke. His blue eyes staring at her in equal measures of curiosity and mischief — as if he knew what his words would invoke in her. He was being cheeky.

“Well, now that you mention it,” she started, standing up and heading over to the kitchen counter. Betty took out some smaller dessert plates and spoons, and pulled the pie from where it had been sitting. She took the foil from the top and cut some slices with a serving knife.

“I want you to tell me what you think is in this pie,” Betty was curious to his answer, wondering if his love of food could tell the difference between carrot and pumpkin. The spices might make it difficult as she supposed they would mask the taste pretty well. And cream cheese pretty much made anything taste good.

Once she had placed a good size piece on each plate, she brought them back to the table. Jughead had pushed their dinner plates to the side, stacked on top of each other. He was sitting casually, an arm thrown around the back of the chair. Betty admired the way the green cable knit stretched against his shoulders before sliding into her seat across from him.

He looked down at the plate, eyes appraising the pie. It had a layer of sweetened cream cheese and then the bulk of the carrot mixture with thinly sliced almonds (that she bad roasted and sprinkled with salt) on top. Jughead rubbed his hand over his jaw, fingers brushing out nonexistent hairs on his chin. Betty wanted to giggle.

“Well, it looks kinda like pumpkin pie. But, I’m guessing it’s not.”

He picked up the spoon, both arms back on the table as he swirled the plate around, looking at it from multiple angles. Jughead bent down and inhaled deeply, belting out a deep groan of satisfaction.

“It smells like Thanksgiving.”

Betty nodded to him, lips quirking up in a grin. She pulled her own spoon through her slice and popped it in her mouth. The burst of flavors on her tongue was all spicy and sweet at the same time. “Yup.”

Jughead was watching her for any reaction after she started eating. She rolled her eyes and gestured with her spoon at him. He finally took a bite, eyes fluttering as his lips closed around the spoon. She watched in trepidation, her free hand curling into a fist underneath the table. Betty’s fingernails were pinching into her skin of her palm.

He opened his eyes wide as he started to chew. Letting out a low whistle, he looked down at the piece of pie and shook his head.

“You could tell me there was dog shit in this pie and I would still eat it, Betty.”

A giggle escaped her mouth at that, her fist relaxing as she clamped it over her lips, her chest bubbling up and down.

“But, to be honest it tastes like pumpkin, but it’s creamier, sweeter. This cream cheese layer?” He paused and she nodded to his question. “Combination reminds me of carrot cake.”

Betty hummed, taking another bite of the pie and nodding along with his words. It was like the best mix of both desserts.

“So, carrot or pumpkin?” She asked after she swallowed. Jughead was looking at her warily, another bite on his spoon.

“This feels like a trick question.”

“Maybe it is?” Her eyebrows raised at him and she cut into the edge of her crust.

She let Jughead finish eating before prompting him to decide. He licked his lips, her eyes following his tongue. Betty tilted her head and crossed her arms on the table, leaning forward.

“So?”

“What do I get if I guess correctly?”

His question caught her off guard. She wasn’t really expecting this. To be fair though, she really hadn’t expected any of this. As in, Jughead being in her apartment at all. So she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe for a moment. It wasn’t like he was propositioning to take something, he was giving her the power to choose what she wanted to give. It could be as simple as a dollar bill, another meal cooked…

“A kiss.”

Okay, where the hell had that come from? Betty couldn’t help the way her lips started to tremble. She had to bite her bottom one to get it to stop. She maintained eye contact though, which was frightening, but simultaneously enthralling. The excitement tickled the back of her neck, prompting a smile from her.

Jughead was staring at her from across the table, the same look of mischief flashing across his features.

“Okay,” he started, nodding his head. “Pumpkin.”

Betty let out a shaky breath and as a lopsided grin grew on her face. She laid her hands flat on the table and shook her head at Jughead. She didn’t miss the slight droop of his shoulders or the twitch in his jaw.

“It’s made with carrots.”

He looked defeated, like he had lost his favorite game and was sulking in the corner. He huffed, scrunching up his nose. “It didn’t taste like carrots…”

“Trick question, remember?”

He rolled his eyes at her and glanced down at his plate. “Can I have another piece of this carrot pie?”

She nodded, hopping up from her seat and heading to the counter. Cutting him another piece, she pulled the pie plate over to the table and served it to him. Betty gathering up the dishes as he ate his second piece. She was fixing up a container of leftover vegetables and a ziplock bag of the matcha bark, in addition to the fact that she was going to make him take the rest of the pie home. Placing it all in the fridge, she wiped the counter down with a rag.

“So,” Jughead started, sentence ending as he looked at her questioningly. He was wondering what came next. To be honest, so was she.

“Do you like Netflix?” Were the words that came out of Betty’s mouth and she was thanking her lucky stars that it wasn’t anything else. She had this urge to blurt things out around Jughead for some reason. When she was usually very thoughtful and decisive about her actions and responses.

“Of course I like Netflix,” he had stood now, depositing his empty plate into the sink. Betty started to fill it with hot water, squirting some dish soap in as she plugged the drain. Drying her hands on a towel she looked to Jughead. He was leaning his back against the counter, observing the array of magnets attached to the front of her fridge.

“What kind of shows do you like?” Betty had reached out, wrapping her fingers around one of Jughead’s wrists. She was tugging him towards the adjoining living room and pushing him to sit on her couch.

“I like thrillers, mysteries, dark stuff -—horror. But, also older movies and shows. I’m a bit of a True Crime buff. But I like the occasional rom-com, too. Paul Rudd is a funny guy,” Jughead was settling into the corner of the couch, his arms up and resting along the back and side.

Betty eyed the space his arms had made, vaguely entertaining the thought that it was an invitation for her to sit right next to him. She dismissed it quickly, reaching for the remote on the coffee table and clicking the tv on. Then, settled on the couch a respectable distance away, so that his fingertips just barely brushed the middle of her shoulders.

“Okay, I can get on board with a good psychological thriller. I probably like romance movies more though. Like Titanic? That is one of my favorites. I adore older films, especially black and white. I also really like foreign movies and shows, I don’t mind having to read subtitles.”

With the Netflix menu open, she felt an odd feeling wash over her, as if someone was looking into her soul. Betty hadn’t realized that someone viewing her watchlist might make her feel so vulnerable. She tucked her legs up underneath her, which tilted her slightly in Jughead’s direction.

“Yeah? I guess I haven’t dabbled much into foreign media. I’ve watched some older ones, classics like Rules Of The Game and M, though.”

Betty had seen the first, but not the second title he mentioned. “What’s M?” she questioned, browsing the newly released titles section to see if anything caught either of their eyes.

“It’s a German film, basically the first serial killer movie. It’s great, we should watch it sometime.”

Betty couldn’t help the slow smile she flashed him, eyes crinkling up at the corners. She would love to.

“Okay, but I doubt it’s on Netflix, so another time. Have you ever watched Stranger Things? I’m a little obsessed with 80’s nostalgia.”

Jughead had turned to look at her, his elbow propped up on the arm of the couch. His hand was at his mouth, fingers fiddling with his lower lip. He had an eyebrow raised at her, incredulous look on his face.

“Of course, I’ve seen Stranger Things. I, too, have an affinity for the 80’s subculture, especially 80’s futuristic subtypes. One of my favorite movies is Blade Runner.”

Betty rolled her eyes at Jughead. “I suppose you like Star Wars, Back to the Future, Mad Max, Alien—”

“Wait, wait, hold up. Are you saying you don’t?”

Betty grinned at him, her own eyebrow raising towards him as she took in the disbelief in his face. Finally she laughed, her head shaking.

“Jug, no. I love those movies.” He seemed to relax at her words, sinking back into the couch with a sigh of relief. “I just didn’t realize we had such similar interests.”

Betty was definitely a sucker for movies with a kickass female in the midst. The others were good too.

He nodded at her, eyes going back to the tv. “I am pleasantly surprised, Betty Cooper. Let’s just say that.”

“As am I, Jughead Jones.”

They ended up starting Stranger Things season 2 over again, as they were both at different spots and couldn’t decide which episode to start over. So the beginning it was. Betty was tapping her fingers against the couch with the music, the soundtrack of the show really resonated with her.

They fawned over Eleven’s new hair and kept pointing out how they positioned Mike in frames due to the actor’s height compared to the rest of the kids. Betty had also made Jughead a cup of hot apple cider with a fresh cinnamon stick that he wouldn’t stop talking about for 30 minutes.

They watched five episodes because they found it really hard to stop watching. Betty just kept letting the next one play until she realized it was after midnight and she had to get up early for work the next day. Jughead had told her “sleep is for the weak,” but begrudgingly got up from his spot on the couch.

He stretched his arms high above his head and Betty’s eyes were instantly drawn to the strip of skin that revealed itself where his sweater rose up. She had to force herself to pull her eyes away from the familiar trail of hair that had been taunting her in her dreams since the shower incident.

“I had a really awesome time tonight Betty,” his voice drifted over to her where she had found herself standing in front of the fridge, pulling out Jughead’s leftovers.

“Yeah? I did, too. Turns out you are pretty cool to hang out with,” Betty teased, putting the containers into a grocery bag for his trek across the hall.

“Gee thanks, I feel really validated now.”

He was smiling though as they walked toward her door and Betty couldn’t help reciprocating.

“Really though, we should hang out again,” her palms had turned sweaty, thinking about him possibly kissing her goodnight. She didn’t know if she could do it. Deciding to act first she gripped his shoulders in her hands and kissed his cheek sweetly.

“Goodnight, Jughead. I’ll text you,” she smiled at him as sincerely as she could, despite the clench of her heart.

Jughead nodded, his eyes darting to her lips before he gave her a small smirk, one that didn’t quite reach the far away expression in his eyes. “Goodnight, Betty.”

She saw him out the door and watched him enter his apartment. He didn’t glance back.

Betty shut her down and pressed her back against it, sliding down to sit with her knees pressed against her chest. She felt like she did something wrong. Her stomach was clenching uncomfortably and she had to press her forehead against her knees. Her heart wasn’t about to win out here, she had to be logical and think this through before making a rash decision that would be hard to take back later.

***

Two days later, while she was sitting at Starbucks, waiting to meet with a client, Betty snapped a photo of her drink cup and sent it to Jughead. The barista had somehow managed to comically spell her name wrong and she thought it might give Jughead a laugh.

B: so apparently my name is Betsie now??

She had also sent an emoji, the upside down smiley face.

First and foremost, Betty really did want to be friends with Jughead. She was really making an effort to put herself out there with him, while still standing in her comfort zone. She was waiting to see if these feelings for him grew stronger or faded with getting to know him.

So far, she was really regretting not kissing him the other night.

His text came in, some laughing emoji’s and a ‘nice to meet you, Betsie’.

Smiling at her phone, she chewed her lip, trying to think of something to say when her client arrived. Betty spent the rest of the morning with her phone burning a hole in her pocket.

She didn’t text Jughead again until she got home that afternoon. She asked him if he would be offended if she watched the rest of the Stranger Things episodes.

He never answered her.

She went to bed and lay there, staring up at the ceiling for what felt like hours. She was sure she had gone over every pro and con to admitting she liked Jughead. Betty was still comparing this to her previous relationship. There were a lot of similarities that scared her.

First impressions, had absolutely placed Jughead in the same category as her ex: Motorcycle, leather jackets, cigarettes, smirking, and sardonic humor. There was uncanny similitude between the two. But there was more to Jughead, too; he was witty, smooth, confident, and caring. He had a steady job, friends, had gone to college on a scholarship that he had to of worked hard for. He seemed sound of mind.

And the way Jughead looked at her… he made her heart beat faster, stomach flutter, cheeks flush, and her skin prickle with excitement. Betty felt terrible the other night, letting him leave her apartment with only a kiss to the cheek.

Conversation was easy with him and despite feeling nervous in his presence, it was only because she was worried that she was going to do something to turn him away for good.

She sighed, closing her eyes.

Betty decided she could like him, that she would let herself explore these feelings for Jughead. Even though it was frightening to be going down this path; it was new and it was different, but that wasn’t a bad thing. She was the same though, and that was the thing that grounded her. No matter what happened in the past, she was still herself, still Betty Cooper. The same strong person who fought her way out of hell, lived, and grew because of it.

***

After a fitful night of sleep, Betty was thankful that she didn’t have a real work agenda for the day. She was going to work on editing today, so it was a work at home (and at your leisure) day. So, obviously a hot bath to start her day was in order.

She had chosen a lavender bath bomb to plop in the water, paired with a bubblegum bubble bath concoction to make a soothing, sweet combination. With her hair piled up on her head and a clay mask spread across her face, Betty relaxed into the water, eyes closed. Her phone was resting on the ledge of the tub, her favorite playlist on shuffle that had a large number of Halsey songs (Betty felt that the texture and tone of the artist matched her inner voice) to lull her to a relaxed state.

It wasn’t surprising then, when she fell asleep.

Betty woke sometime later, jolting suddenly when the dream that often haunted her ended the same way it always did. She braced her hands on the edges of the tub, the water had gone chilly and she was shivering. She looked to her phone to check the time but it wasn’t there, nor was her music playing anymore.

Frown marring her face, which was now very tight from the face mask having hardened, she looked to the floor. It wasn’t there. A flash of panic went through her as she looked down to her bathwater that had turned murky from her additives. She groped around the bottom of the tub, finally finding her phone by the drain.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

The screen was black and pressing any amount of buttons did nothing at this point.

Betty scrambled out of the tub, just wrapping her towel around her body and rushing to the kitchen. She pulled the back of the phone apart, the battery falling out in a puddle of water. She winced, the inside was completely wet. Drying everything with towel, she chewed on a fingernail. Betty turned to her pantry and searched for her container of dry rice. She buried her phone and the parts in the whole container, hastily. She snapped the lid on and sat down on a chair with her head in her hands.

If this didn’t work, Betty really couldn’t afford a replacement phone, plus the fact that she was still paying for this one. She pulled her computer open and searched every possible way to save her phone. Rice seemed like the go to, but it depended on the phone and the amount of time submerged. Betty wasn’t sure how long it bad been in the tub.

According to her google search, she should leave the phone in the rice for at least 24 hours. Easy enough.

Or not, she mused, a couple hours later. She didn’t realize how often she relied on her phone for everything. Using her laptop was sometimes more of a hassle, but she had to make due.

Her thoughts kept straying to Jughead, wondering if he ever answered her and if he had, that now she wasn’t answering him. She groaned, head falling forward to the table with a hard clunk. Betty was having a hard time focusing on her work. She took a calming breath and decided to make herself a cup of coffee (she may or may have not added some Bailey’s to it).

Managing to make it through the rest of the day with little fanfare, Betty laid in bed that night wide awake. She had to turn on the tv after a while, propping her head up on her folded arm. Betty scanned the channels for something that might put her to sleep. Eventually she landed on Forensic Files, the only thing that seemed to be on that wasn’t an info-mercial.

She wasn’t sure if it was the three cups of coffee she had drank, the worry over her phone (and money associated with it), or Jughead.

Though, let’s be reasonable, it was all three.

Not to mention she was worried about her blog schedule. She had a couple of posts queued, but she needed to either get a new phone or a new camera or something if her phone was really dead.

Her head bobbed up from where she had pressed her cheek flat against her pillow.

“Jughead,” she whispered his name, an imaginary light bulb blinking above her head. He was a photographer, right? He had a camera. Would he let her use it or would he take some photos for her?

The thought calmed her racing thoughts for a moment. Sure she still wouldn’t be able to make phone calls or texts until she had found a cheap replacement, but her blog would still be okay. The internet was a fickle thing, and you had to keep people engaged or they lost interest quickly.

Betty was buzzing with anticipation and dare she say that she almost wanted her phone to still be out of commission when she dug it out of the rice in the morning. Yeah, that was silly. But it would be a legitimate reason to spend time with Jughead and she would be seeing more of his character if he agreed.

She finally relaxed enough to try to go to sleep.

Betty did not have a nightmare that night, but a dream like felt eerie and real at the same time.

It was a mid autumn day, the trees a brilliant mix of oranges and reds. She could feel the chill of the wind leaving goosebumps on her exposed arms. Betty was wearing a long, white dress, and her feet were bare as she walked the sidewalk, crispy leaves crunching under her feet.

“Come on, Betty, lean against that railing there,” a voice said to her right. She turned and found herself watching Jughead fiddle with a camera. She blinked, voice lost in her throat. Her feet started to move towards the railing, and she leaned against it, elbows dangling over it as she pressed her back to the bars. Tilting her face to the sun, she heard the quick ‘snap, snap’ of the camera shutter again and again.

“Sweet girl. Pretty girl,” Betty realized with a start, that the words were coming from Jughead. They sounded lilted and soft, not like the usual rough timber of his voice. She could see the blue of his eyes glittering in the light of the sun. “My girl Friday.”

Her lips parted but no noise escaped. Betty clenched her hands into fists, nails carving into her palm as her heart hammered in her chest. When the camera fell back around his neck his eyes had turned a dark brown. Their haunting familiarity reaching deep as she struggled to anchor herself to ground that seemed to be spinning around her.

The dream started to slip away then, and she wanted to reach a hand out, as if to grasp the edges.

She shook her head and fell back to the bed from where she had raised up to her elbows. Letting out a sigh, Betty stretched her limbs to each corner of the bed, grounding herself that she was alone. She must have broken into a sweat at some point, because she felt clammy and cold now.

Laying there, she contemplated the idea of dreams and their fleeting moments, wondering, if perhaps they held more weight than a just an unconscious plane of thought. She had never been a big ‘dreams have deeper meaning’ enthusiast before, but this one had left her curious.

Betty allowed herself to lay there for another hour, before getting up. She usually did ‘press’ for her clients on Fridays, so thankfully it was something she could do at home from her computer.

Once she had set a schedule for the day, she pulled her phone from the container of rice. Betty had pressed the power button and got excited when the screen started to light up. Disappointment followed shortly when the screen was mixture of rainbow swirls with a green line running down the right side. The touch screen also was not responding, albeit very well anyway.

She debated just chucking it in the trash, but ultimately decided not too. Thankfully her contacts, messages, and photos were all backed up to the Cloud.

Later that afternoon, Betty had finished her work for the day early since she didn’t have her phone to distract her. Deciding she would go see Jughead to inquire about his services, she figured she should better bring a treat to make it worthwhile, and as something to photograph.

She had planned to make these things next week, but moving her desserts up earlier wasn’t a problem if nagging at Jughead’s sweet tooth got her an in.

It took her the rest of the afternoon, but she churned out some very pretty strawberry lemon shortbread bars, and some spiced apple cake bars with brown butter frosting. Her kitchen had been smelling heavenly all afternoon and it took everything she had to resist eating more than one of each bar for her taste test.

As soon as her treats were bundled up in a decorative basket lined with parchment, Betty was ready. Once she raised her hand, knuckles rapping against Jughead’s door, there was no turning back. When he answered the door in a dark t-shirt and a pair of joggers, she felt better about her tunic top and leggings. A smile lit up her face and she held the basket out in front of her.

“Jug, hi,” her words came out in a rush, realizing she had been holding her breath. Jughead raised an eyebrow inquiringly and Betty took it as her queue to continue.

“I need a favor, so what better way to entice you than some treats?” she shook the basket at him and Jughead glanced down. He shook his head, but there was a playful smile on his lips. He had crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his beanie covered head.

“Pray tell, what’s the favor? I might be tempted to oblige… for a treat,” his words sounded smoky and smooth, sending her thoughts to dark places.

“Well, yesterday morning I sort of dropped my phone in the bath…”

Jughead’s eyebrows rose dramatically.

“And I buried it in some rice for a whole day, but it’s pretty much useless now. I just need some help taking photos for my blog until I can get a replacement.”

“So, you have come to me, professional photographer who lives across the hall that has a weakness for you.”

Betty could feel a blush blooming on her chest and proceeding with its inevitable sweep upwards. She shifted her weight from one leg to another, clearing her throat, “I’m sorry?”

“A weakness for food,” Jughead clarified, utterly unperturbed by his slip-up, and glanced down to the basket full of treats. In the low light of the hallway, his eyes were glinting impishly. She could have sworn…

“Yes. So you’ll help me then? I’ve got raspberry lemon shortbread bars and —”

“Yes.”

“—and some spiced apple—”

“Betty, I said — yes.”

“I, err… I wasn’t finished yet,” Betty blinked, her breath catching in her throat at the intensity of Jughead’s gaze.

“I don’t need to be bribed to help you, Betty,” he clarified, tone unexpectedly gentle. “I would do it just because you asked.”

“Oh… oh. Okay, thank you,” she was a little dumbfounded, as she felt Jughead had been a little hot and cold the past couple days. But maybe he had just been busy or she had been reading too much into things.

“So you want to do it in my apartment?”

And just like that, Betty felt like they were back to those first two interactions where her mind instantly went places it shouldn’t.

With a blush blooming on her cheeks, she nodded and brushed past Jughead as he stepped aside to let her in. She was taking in the somber, dark colors of his decor when the door clicked shut behind them. He still wasn’t completely unpacked, not that she expected him to be.

In his kitchen, which mirrored hers, Betty set the basket on his table and adjusted the bars laying on top. She grabbed one of apple spice ones and held it out for Jughead.

“Thank you,” he took it from her, taking a bite. Betty watched with her lip drawn between her teeth, fingers fiddling with the parchment paper.

“‘mm god, Betty, ‘is is ‘mazing” Jughead spoke with his mouth full, but she found it oddly endearing. The way he immediately took a second bite, licking his upper lip of the icing that had landed there.

“Oh, thank you.”

Betty pulled a strawberry lemon shortbread out and set it on a napkin she pulled from a stack on the table.

Jughead finished his treat and held his hand over his stomach with a sigh.

“Okay?”

“Oh, better than okay. Fantastic,” He rubbed his hands together then, watching as Betty pulled the plate of bars from the bottom. She separated the two flavors from each other, stacking the strawberry ones back in the basket for the photos.

“Ready when you are,” she beamed up at Jughead, hands clasped in front of her. He had been watching her work, and nodded as he gestured towards his bedroom.

“Sure, boss. Just gotta get my bag.”

Betty felt a swell of excitement at the title, despite feeling very much out of control of the situation. She took a calming breath and looked around at his kitchen, finding it sparse. She knew what she was getting Jughead for Christmas now, some kitchen things.

Maybe she would teach him how to use them? She attributed the warm fluttering in her belly to all the sugar, and definitely not the thoughts of herself in this kitchen with Jughead pressed up against her back, chin in her shoulder as she showed him how to cut noodles or to ice a cake…

“Alright, how do you want me?”

Fighting down the blush that was threatening to take over her entire body, Betty straightened her back and went into professional mode.

“I want a wide angle shot of both desserts together, and then closer shots individually. Several, so that I can choose a few when I’m making my post layout.”

“On it.”

And they danced around each other then, for several minutes as Jughead took various photos of the desserts. He played with the lights in the kitchen and eventually brought out a tall stand in light which helped the fine details show up better.

He had stood close to her, leaning in and showing her some of the shots and Betty nodded enthusiastically. His photos looked so good, how was she ever going to be able to go back to hers?

She would have to make it clear on her blog that this was a guest photographer. Of course, she would drop Jughead’s name as well. Might as well see if she could help drum him up some business, too.

“Why don’t I take some photos of you?” he fiddled with a knob on the camera. “With the desserts,” he added, when she hadn’t spoken.

Betty wasn’t sure. She hadn’t posted any photos of herself besides the one in her blog bio. But she longed to see herself captured in Jughead’s photography. Like in her dream…

“Okay,” she found herself saying. Though she certainly wasn’t dressed for it, at least the dark teal tunic top brought out the green of her eyes.

“Why don’t you…” Jughead brought a hand up to the back of her head, fingering the ends of her ponytail. Her eyes widened when he tugged gently on the strands.

“Oh? Okay,” Betty brought her hands up, her fingers brushing against his as he brought his own back to the camera hanging around his neck. It felt like electric fire shooting up her arm and it had her heart racing as she pulled her ponytail out and shook her head out a little.

“I like it when you wear your hair down.”

Jughead’s words were soft and sweet, and Betty wanted nothing more than to sling her arms around his shoulders and bury her face in his neck. Instead, she finished combing her fingers through her hair, gliding it back and away from her face.

“How is this?”

“Perfect,” he said, then blinked owlishly and coughed into his fist. “I, err, I want you lean on the table, rest your elbows on it, by the basket.”

Betty did as she was told, bending at the waist and trying not to feel self conscious with Jughead’s eyes on her. She popped her hip, bending one knee forward.

“Yes, now tuck your chin to your shoulder a bit… yes, now bring your eyes up to me Betty.”

Green eyes drug up Jughead’s legs, to where he was holding the camera in front of his face. She noticed he had taken his beanie off, his hair wild and free, much like hers. He was leaning back against the counter, pressing himself into it as he played with the angle of her in his lens.

She heard the shutter click several times and she couldn’t help her smile that continued to grow as Jughead danced around the kitchen.

“Okay, now plant your hands flat against the table, hunch your shoulders.”

He continued snapping shots of her even as she was moving into the new position.

“Yes, yes. Good…good.”

Betty shook her head at him, biting her lip. Jughead groaned in response, the shutter clicking faster.

“Yes, baby.”

Her heart thudded in her chest at his words, cheeks turning pink. She didn’t think this was so much about the desserts anymore.

“Hop up on the table, sit with the plate on your lap, legs crossed.”

Betty complied, legs crossing over each other, dangling from the table. She placed the plate with the strawberry lemon bars on her lap and picked one up. Deciding to bite into it she heard Jughead’s hum of appreciation.

She chewed slowly, then swiped her tongue over her lower lip to catch an invisible crumb. Pinching the bar between her middle finger and thumb, Betty licked the pad of her index finger.

“Great, just like that.”

A giggle escaped her throat and then she couldn’t stop, laugh bursting from her as she tossed her head back. The turn of events currently unfolding was not a scenario she would have imagined when Betty had decided to come over to Jughead’s apartment.

He was chuckling behind the camera, but the clicks didn’t stop. As her giggles wound down and smiled fondly at him, tossing the bar back onto the plate and setting it aside. She leaned forward on her hands, gripping the edge of the table. Her feet brushed the floor, tips of her converse sliding against the linoleum. Then, she was sliding forward, the table starting to tip a little.

Jughead was suddenly in front of her, one arm wrapping around her waist and hauling her up against him, his other hand holding his camera out to the side.

Betty let out a shuddered breath, her hands had clenched onto the sides of Jughead’s shirt when he grabbed her. She was staring at the strip of skin above the neckline, his collarbones were peeking out.

He was pressing forward against her, her back against the edge of the table as he set the camera down. “Betty…”

Looking up she was met with his baby blues, staring her down with a look of unease. Betty was about to question what was wrong when he bent forward, his arm tightening on her waist. Her eyes fluttered closed as Jughead’s lips found hers.

It was sinfully sweet, the gentle way his lips moved against hers. She wanted to sigh against his mouth and settled for parting her lips slightly. Jughead’s hands ran over the curve of her waist, both settling on her hips and pulling her body closer against him.

Their chests were pressed together and she could swear Jughead could probably feel her heart beating against him. Her body felt tingly from the press of their lips, warm, wet, and sweet. She could taste the brown butter icing on Jughead’s tongue when he swiped it against hers.

Betty’s body was stiff, and she didn’t know what to do with her hands other than grip fistfulls of his shirt as she tried to press closer to him.

Jughead pulled back from her mouth, leaning his forehead against her, lips hovering just above hers. Betty opened her eyes to look up at him, the pad of his thumb brushing against the curve of her cheek as his breath fanned against her lips.

“Baby girl, sweet girl, you need to relax,” his words against her lips had her breath literally catching in her throat.

It was an uncomfortable rush of emotions as a familiar voice rang through her ears, a vision of her in this same position, crowded against a countertop with too tight hands on her waist, nails digging into her skin. Hot breath whispering into her ear and making her squirm uncomfortably.

Betty felt trapped, walls starting to close in as her vision turned black and spotty. Her whole body became rigid, her fingers shaking in their vice-like grip on Jughead’s shirt.

Her chest was heaving now, it was like she was trying to breathe through a straw. Her lungs were on fire and her shoulders felt heavy, like someone was pushing her down, trying to shove her under water. Everything sounded muffled, like someone had clapped their hands over her ears. All she could hear was the fast beat of her heart, hammering in her chest like it wanted to break through her ribcage.

Her eyes clenched tightly shut as the words came rushing forward in her memories. That sickly sweet, deceiving voice. “Sweet girl, relax for me. My girl Friday…”

tbc

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead fandom #betty x jughead #jughead jones #betty cooper #jughead x betty #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fandom #bughead fic #bughead fam #bughead fanfic #fanfiction #wip #what i'm writing #ao3fic #bhlemondrops

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pengiesama · 7 years

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A Reasonable Amount of Trouble (Fic, Sorey/Mikleo, Detective AU, Chapter 1/?)

Title: A Reasonable Amount of Trouble, Chapter 1/? Series: Tales of Zestiria Pairing: Sorey/Mikleo Summary: Sorey is an experienced member of the supernatural detective division, the Shepherds, but is a fresh face to the city squad when an unexpected transfer lands him in Lastonbell. Things tend to get complicated when you realize that hot hookup from the bar last night is now your new partner on the force. (Detective AU)

Link: AO3

This was a commission from @shamingcows, who requested fic from her fantastic Detective AU!

Check out my commission info here.

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Lastonbell wasn’t a bad assignment.

A major metro center, it was a city known for the arts, theater, and music – and all the accompanying drama that came with it. A writer, wretched with rejection letters, going hellion in the streets; a seraph, strung out on the torrid emotions of starving artists, going missing and turning up a week later rampaging through the commercial district wearing scales. Organized crime rings, trafficking drugs and bodies both, occasionally facing off against each other in the streets.

Sure, it didn’t have the glitz and glamour of Pendrago. But Sorey had gotten too comfortable with the detective beat in Ladylake, and welcomed the change of scenery – but mostly he welcomed the change in local attractions and historical points of interest. When he wasn’t being wined and dined (more like boozed and burgered) by his local friends as part of his farewell festivities, he was scrolling through Lastonbell food and travel blogs and devouring every book about the city’s lengthy history he could get his hands on. These research efforts had a predictable effect on Sorey’s packing efforts, and on the eve of his big move, he had to sheepishly call in a favor to Rose to enlist her help in getting the remainder of his apartment into boxes.

(“I helped you and Alisha move into your place,” Sorey pointed out in response to Rose’s endless griping, over the sounds of packing tape and clattering plates.

“I bought you pizza and beer!” Rose countered. “That debt was paid in full! Man, how many books do you have!? You owe me a night bar-crawling in Lastonbell for this. While I wear a crown. And you’re carrying me on one of those fancy back carriage thingies.”

“Palanquin,” Sorey informed her.

“Gesundheit,” Rose blessed him.)

Now that he was in Lastonbell, there was the matter of getting his apartment out of the boxes. Sorey flopped down heavily on one of the few open spots on his couch, and brought out his phone. He’d had a long day, and maybe it was time for him to make use of his extensive city research to check out some of the local bars.

He scrolled through some of the blog posts he had bookmarked, and landed on a name – The Katz Pajamas. It looked way…louder than the bars he tended to frequent. And definitely had a certain vibe to it. A certain vibe that Sorey, stressed and lonely in this big new city, could maybe appreciate tonight.

Sorey didn’t usually go for casual encounters, much less one-night stands. Even if someone checked all his boxes for physical attraction, he just generally wasn’t interested in anonymous sex with someone he barely knew. There was also the matter of common ground – normal “pickup talk” conversation bored Sorey to tears, and he wasn’t naïve enough to think that most people (or even some people, or a few people) would be interested in what archaeology journals he was reading, or wanted to rant with him about that badly-researched documentary he caught on Netflix the night before.

But there was always an exception to be had, wasn’t there? Especially as a stranger in a strange land.

Which sums up how Sorey wound up with his cock buried hilt-deep inside a guy he picked up at the bar.

His name was Mikleo, and he was a regular at the club, had great taste in books, and was absolutely stunning. He was tall; almost a head taller than Sorey, who was no slouch himself. He had a slim build; light enough for Sorey to pick up and throw onto his bed with ease, with slender wrists just the right size for Sorey’s hands to wrap around. He had legs for days; they were previously showcased in a pair of tight jeans, and were currently wrapped around Sorey’s waist. His eyes were a deep and fascinating violet, his hair was long and wavy white, frosted with pale aquamarine streaks, and – Sorey noted, as he slid a hand through it, prompting Mikleo to damn near purr at the feeling – was just about the softest thing he’d ever felt. Sorey had never gotten with a seraph before, and with how this encounter was going, he wondered why the hell that was.

The second he stepped into the club and had his eyes adjust to the low light, he’d spotted Mikleo at the bar, chatting with the bartender like an old friend. Dumbstruck with how gorgeous he looked in the colored lights and running on fumes and exhausted idiot courage after his long day of moving, Sorey slid up to him in a neighboring seat, and struck up a conversation. About five minutes in, Mikleo was laughing at Sorey’s dumb pickup lines in Ancient Avarost and buying him a drink to welcome him to the city, and Sorey realized that this was the best decision he’d made all day. About ten minutes in, as they crowed together about shitty movie adaptations of the restoration period, Sorey realized this was the best decision he’d made all week. About an hour in, as they ground on each other in the back of a taxi making its way back to Sorey’s place, Sorey realized that he really should have tried harder to unpack, and was about to hook up with a beautiful stranger amidst a maze of cardboard boxes. For his part, Mikleo almost seemed charmed by it all – or at least was too polite to do more than laugh as Sorey scooped him up and carried him bravely through the debris and into his bedroom to ravish him.

Sorey hadn’t really gotten much action since his last relationship about six months back, but managed to last longer than he thought he would with such a mind-blowingly sexy partner. From the look on Mikleo’s face as Sorey carefully pulled out of him, he’d given Mikleo a great ride as well – which was good, as Sorey wanted to at least make Mikleo’s efforts in putting up with his cardboard kingdom worthwhile. Sorey removed his condom and wrapped it in a tissue, and leaned in to kiss Mikleo deeply before he got up to clean up in the bathroom. The smile Mikleo gave to him in return just about killed his desire to leave the bed. Sorey leaned back in for another kiss.

Then another.

In the end, Sorey wound up climbing Mikleo like a tree one more time before they collapsed into unconsciousness. The next morning, he wished he had more to offer his houseguest hottie than coffee and a muffin from the chain across the street, but Mikleo took the gift with the same good grace that he put up with Sorey’s bad jokes last night. Sorey really, really wanted to ask him to hang around while he went off to check in at his new station, but couldn’t justify asking him to; not with his apartment…the way it was. Mikleo bid him good luck and farewell, sweeping that silky hair of his over one shoulder as he bent down for a last, long kiss. Belatedly, as he creaked his way out of the taxi and into the station, his whole body aching from moving strain and from screwing Mikleo like his life depended on it, he realized that he hadn’t asked for Mikleo’s number. Sorey’s heart twisted a bit with disappointment.

It was the appeal of one-night stands, he supposed. You meet a gorgeous, brilliant guy, hump his brains out, and then never see him again. No strings. No expectations. Nothing but fun, pleasure, and the lingering memory of Mikleo’s smile burning in his brain like embers.

Sorey hung around the station for a little while, getting his new hire paperwork and greetings out of the way – he had been hoping to meet his new partner, but had been told he was taking a long weekend and would probably be next in the coming week. Sorey supposed it was a blessing in disguise. He was still more than a little cranky from exhaustion, more than a little homesick for Ladylake, and more than a little hung up on a hookup that he had no right to be hung up on. He probably wasn’t in much of a state to be making good impressions on coworkers.

As he headed out for the day, his shoulder devil whispered to him to go back to The Katz Pajamas. Great plan, that – nurse drinks for a few hours, lurk like a creep, and skulk off into the night when Mikleo inevitably didn’t show. His shoulder angel told him to go to the grocery store, pick up some real food, and spend the night and the rest of the weekend unpacking. Sorey hung his head, listened to his shoulder angel’s admonitions, and went to pick up some kitchen supplies.

Well, the joke was on his shoulder angel, because he ran into Mikleo again at the store.

Sorey fell too hard, too fast in his relationships. Thus, he was so bad at one-night stands. So horribly bad. He saw this character flaw of his and tried to keep himself under control, but oh, his heart was singing as he saw Mikleo blinking at him across the freezer section. He looked just as beautiful under the florescent grocery store lights, dressed in a comfy oversized sweater over a button-up, as he did in the neon club dressed in skintight pants and a black choker.

What, exactly, was hookup etiquette in a situation such as this? Was it jogging over to where Mikleo was looking at ice cream bars, striking up a conversation with him, and after another half-hour of wonderful conversation, inviting him back to his cardboard kingdom? Was it popping a boner in the middle of the store like a teenager when Mikleo smirked at him and picked up a 24-pack of condoms from the shelf, and tossed it into his basket next to the ice cream?

This, in fact, was probably not hookup etiquette in any sense of the word. But it netted Sorey another night with Mikleo.

And then a whole day with him, lounging in bed, eating Mikleo’s ice cream bars as they watched documentaries together, idly discussing and debating, Sorey’s head in Mikleo’s lap, trying not to purr as Mikleo pet his hair.

They didn’t leave bed that whole weekend, and Sorey got zero unpacking done, and kind of felt like his dick was going to fall off from using it to nail Mikleo in every position he could. But by god, Sorey didn’t regret a single moment of any of it. As he and Mikleo finally said their farewells to each other early Monday morning, Sorey felt like he was walking on air. Mikleo still had to get back to his place, change, and head off to work, all with Sorey’s hickies marking up his neck, but Sorey now had his number tucked safely into his phone, and a sly little suggestion from Mikleo that they could meet up again sometime if Sorey ever got bored. Sorey dreamily stared at his contact in his phone as the subway rumbled toward the station, his thoughts full of the books he wanted to loan to him, the museums he wanted to visit with him, the things he wanted to keep doing to that firm, tight little ass of his.

The whole weekend combined made it really awkward when the station chief introduced Sorey to his partner on the Shepherd detective force, the seraph specialist Mikleo.

So, he had had a one-night stand, or rather a one-weekend ice cream-and-debauchery fest, with his now-coworker. Sorey knew that dating at work was bad news, and constantly had to overhear gossip on the latest drama about office hookups in the break room at his old station in Ladylake. He’d thought he was above it all, but alas – karma was a bitch, and it was paying him back by banishing him to the realm of sexual limbo. What had seemed like a sure thing, a great way to start off his life in a new city, now seemed too awkward to even consider as they rolled out in a squad car to investigate their first case.

Sorey couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

“Listen. I am so sorry I didn’t mention where I was going to be working, it’s just, some people get on edge when I say I’m on the force, so I didn’t really want to--”

“It’s fine,” Mikleo said, shortly. “Just – don’t worry about it.”

Sorey managed to stay silent for a few minutes. He did not manage to not worry about it.

“It’s just, we’re going to be working together now, and I had such a great time, I really did, and I don’t want to make things awkward between us--”

“We’re here,” Mikleo informed him. He threw the car into park and unbuckled himself, trying and failing not to look at the wretched look on Sorey’s face. “…listen. I had a great time too, and I don’t blame you for anything. But let’s just focus on the case for now, okay?”

“Yeah…yeah,” Sorey agreed.

The case itself was a pretty standard one. There had been a rash of hellionizations in the area, all producing a certain kind of hellion – goblins, who had an appetite for theft and property vandalism, and also illegal street racing. As was covered in basic Shepherd training, certain types of malevolence tended to create specific breeds of hellion. Goblin hellions grew from turbulent greed and raw gluttony, and the number of cases plus the profile of the area the cases were centered in pointed toward drug-related activity. Lastonbell was a big city, and big cities had drug trafficking problems. And drug trafficking problems led to goblin street races.

“We’ve been making some arrests in the area recently,” Mikleo explained. “All straightforward purify-and-process. Some have had intel on mob activity in the area, but nothing our undercover informants haven’t already gotten us. We’re closing in on the distributors who are likely operating in the area, but we’ll have to monitor to make sure more don’t move in when we take down the current big dogs.”

Nothing Sorey hadn’t already seen in Ladylake. He knew the ins and outs of Ladylake’s streets and back alleys better though, and that made it way easier to break up these goblin races when they went down. He also hadn’t fucked his investigative partner in Ladylake. Lots of new things to consider in his new home.

A commotion interrupted that line of thought – the telltale hooting, hollering, clattering wheels, and cannonball fire of a goblin street race. At the sight of the squad car, they abruptly changed routes down an alleyway. Mikleo smirked and jumped out of the car.

“Right on time,” he said. “Hope you’re up for a chase.”

“You’re on,” Sorey replied, giving him a cheeky little grin.

Mikleo took off like a shot, his long legs and knowledge of the area giving him a solid lead on Sorey. Sorey felt his heart flutter, and not just because of the thrill of the chase. He was so, so bad at hookups.

Well, the good news was that they caught the speed demons, and the purification process went smoothly. No surprises there – a bunch of petty street punks were no match for Sorey’s knack for purification; the silver flames leaping from his blade and streaking across the ground to burn the taint from their flesh, mind, and souls. He’d been informed his partner was the sharpest shot in the precinct, and he’d lived up to the reputation already; shooting out a wheel axel from one racer, sending him careening into another, setting off a panic among the riders that allowed Sorey to commandeer one of the perps’ carts and ride it, flaming sword held high, rattling and clattering through the streets, his own mighty chariot of justice.

It got results. A crew of beat cops was helping them load the purified perps into a transport car, and a tow truck was on its way to pick up the wrecked carts. That being said, it was clear Mikleo was furious with him about the whole chariot of justice thing, and he wouldn’t even look at Sorey as he read off his report over the radio.

“A half dozen gobblecarters in the slammer in one shot,” one of the beat cops said, admiring. He offered a paw to Sorey to shake. “Not bad for a rookie! Put ‘er there, champ.”

“Hey, I graduated academy five years ago. You’re looking at a seasoned pro, here,” Sorey said. However, he knelt to accept the handshake. “This isn’t even my biggest haul.”

“You tryin’ to impress me or your boyfriend there?” laughed the cop. Mikleo continued to ignore them both. “Don’t look like he’s swayed. Maybe bring in some werewolf pelts and he’ll let you take him out on the town.”

Sorey rumpled the cop’s beret until his paws came up to swipe at him.

“’ey! Knock that off or I’ll report you to HR. Don’t think you special ops bozos get the privilege to touch this fine headgear.”

Leaving the beat cops to coordinate cleanup and transport, Mikleo and Sorey began to make their way back to where they parked the car. Sorey scratched his neck, wincing at Mikleo’s silent treatment.

“…I’ll take care of the paperwork?” Sorey offered.

“I’m sure Captain Strelka will be ecstatic to read it,” Mikleo said dryly. “‘Dear Captain, today I nearly made my partner shoot me by bowling into his line of fire, riding atop essential evidence, streaking through the streets like a flaming comet.’”

“You’re a flaming comet,” retorted Sorey. Mikleo was confused into silence, mouth twisting into a pout, one eyebrow arching. It would be a problem if his partner was this cute, and this easy to rile up. It would be a big problem.

They slid into the squad car, and Sorey yawned and stretched, priding himself on his efforts to not flop one arm around Mikleo’s shoulders.

“But it’s not a bad haul for my first day, you’ve got to admit,” Sorey said. “Can I drive?”

“Not a chance,” Mikleo said, turning on the engine without missing a beat.

Sorey’s eyes were bright with exhilaration. “I think, as my senior, you’ve gotta take it upon yourself to familiarize me with the city. I need to get the lay of the land, you know? Why don’t we go out to the belltower tonight; I’ve always wanted to see it in person.”

Mikleo scoffed. “The belltower? Sure, if you want people to think you’re a tourist.”

“Well,” Sorey drawled. “Would a Lastonbell native instead prefer to be taken out to the exhibition on Avarost-era sculpture at the Historical Art Center?”

“No, a native would more prefer to hit the bar district and then heckle the pretentious performance artists in the college town. But I on the other hand have been meaning to see that exhibit anyway.” Mikleo got them on the road to the station. “As long as it’s not too late when you’re finished with your paperwork back at the station, you can tag along, I guess. And if you can pass a city map test.”

Sorey pumped his fist. Lucky for him, he’d always been good at geography.

#sormik #sorey/mikleo #suremiku #soymilk #soremiku #tales of zestiria #i guess this is my personal tales of zestiria tag now #a tenderly crafted fanfiction #writing commissions #commissions

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ittybittybubbles · 7 years

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13 REASONS WHY

I’m trying not to be negative, but after watching 13 Reasons Why on Netflix I gotta say, it was complete bullshit and I feel like the series completely missed the point. It was quite a disappointment because I fucking love the book...to this day, it is one of my all time favorite teen novels. I read it when I was about 15/16 years old and I was super excited to see how the book would be interpreted visually. Well, to my surprise (especially since almost all the reviews are very favorable) it was big let down.

Like Series Alex Standall said, “Don’t be a dick!” That kids, is pretty much the over-all message of the book. That was the lesson I learned when I finished reading it. Everyone goes through shit, so if we have the opportunity to be kind to another human, why not? That was the point Book Hannah was trying to make with the tapes. She was the one who was suppose to teach us that, not Alex. And in all honesty, Book Alex wasn’t half as remorseful as Series Alex was. Not allowing Series Hannah to do this made it seem like Hannah was guilt tripping her “bullies,” blaming them for her decision and came off as manipulative. Book Hannah was a much stronger, understandable and bad-ass character than Series Hannah ever was. Series Hannah was dismal and at times came off as unreasonable. What a shame... So don’t be a dick! Oh, and it goes without saying, but since both the series and the book deal with sexual harassment and rape; DON’T RAPE AND KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF!

Book Clay and Book Hannah didn’t have a friendship the way the series portrayed. That is one of the biggest reasons why the book’s message worked. Book Clay was an awkward, a bit klutzy and sometimes oblivious to the obvious kind of character. He didn’t confront the other people on Hannah’s list like Series Clay did. His journey dealing with Hannah’s death and Hannah’s journey until her untimely death was the biggest experience we had as readers. Although I liked the people who portrayed the characters on the series, including them and giving them much more screen time than Hannah, changed the story completely. Giving the bullies background stories and showing them having remorse made the viewers excuse the shit they did to Hannah when she was alive as “not that bad.” Which in retrospect, is somewhat true, but that’s not the point. But including all of this and adding the parents and a lawsuit made the original message no longer apply. Series Bryce was viewed as the only true villain. Which is not true. His crime was the most horrendous, but they all contributed with the exclusion of Clay. In fact, a lot of the “reasons” were far more worse and connected in the book than they ever were in the series. I think the writers and producers focused way too much on creating a diverse cast, which is great, I’m fully on board, but they forgot to tell a story with a message. I can go on, but I’d suggest you read the book, it’s worth it, I promise.

Another reason why the message translated well in the book and not in the series, is because of Book Clay and Book Skye’s relationship. They use to be friends and in fact, she was Clay’s 8th grade crush (before Hannah) and before Skye went through her “change.” Series Skye was portrayed as an “insufferable goth” and downright rude/mean. I hated this especially. Book Skye was the kind of character who stopped caring about her appearance and isolated herself from her peers after 8th grade, which insinuated she was depressed. Book Clay and Book Skye had a small chat on the bus while he was listening to Hannah’s tapes (in one night, I might add!!) and that’s about the only time he and Book Skye interacted. Series Skye and Series Clay had more scenes than in the book and each encounter was bitter and had no natural development. One of the scenes that pissed me off the most was the “Tarot Card” scene. Series Skye offered to read Series Clay’s future because ???? This scene didn’t add anything to the over-all story and only made Series Skye seem like she was jealous of Hannah. And the worst part? Series Clay confronting Series Skye about her self-harm. Her response was the most detrimental message the series contributed thus far. It did more damage than good. THAT SCENE WAS COMPLETE BULLSHIT! Series Skye said “suicide is for the weak” and self-harm is what people do so they don’t commit suicide. Implying that people who self-harm are strong and also smarter than those who commit suicide. Kids, listen to me carefully, NEITHER IS AN OPTION! If you need someone to talk to, seek help! Whether if it’s a parent, friend, a helpline, a fucking stranger, anyone who will listen.... get help and don’t turn to self-harm.

Here’s the reason why Skye’s character even existed in the first place; after Book Clay finished listening to Hannah’s tapes, he learned a valuable lesson. He was too scared to help Book Hannah because he didn’t know how to help. Although Book Hannah was showing classic warning signs of a suicidal individual, he missed the opportunity to reach out to her. Because of this, he wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip with Book Skye. He reached out to Book Skye and offered his friendship. That’s it. Sometimes that’s all a person needs. And that my friends, was the purpose for those three characters and one of the reasons why he was on Book Hannah’s list. The way Book Hannah and Book Skye paralleled each other was completely on purpose and helped us understand the over-all purpose of the story Jay Asher [the author] wrote. The tapes were lessons, not guilt trips. Bonus, Book Clay was able to get closure because Book Hannah was finally able to tell him everything she wished she could have when she was alive.

“Everything...affects everything.”

Because the series focused on everyone else, the story really suffered. The book is much more useful than the series is. What lesson were we suppose to learn from the series? Especially if we were focusing on the people who hurt Hannah more and had them tell us what Hannah should have been? Book Hannah and Series Hannah were completely different. Actually, all of the characters were way different from book to screen, which again, is why the story really suffered. The writers on the show seemed like they made it their mission to trigger and get a rise out of the viewers with “hard-hitting,” “honest,” and “raw,” scenes. Which in fact was just very manipulative (example: for ratings!!) There was nothing raw or honest about Series Hannah’s suicide scene. Especially since Book Hannah actually took a handful of pills and NOT SLIT HER WRISTS. That scene was the hardest to watch. The book DID NOT focus on HOW Hannah committed suicide, because that wasn’t the point of the story, nope. It wasn’t important how she did it, but that she did it and why. Making such a big deal about filming her suicide scene not only traumatized viewers, but it looked to me like even Series Clay was affected by it. Plagued him with horrible images, which again, the viewers had to endure each time Series Clay did. It was annoying and manipulative of the writers to pull that shit. I’ve seen a lot of movies and shows that deal with deep shit, like suicide, and never have I ever experienced something like her suicide scene. I’ve been moved to tears watching movies about suicide, drug abuse, etc. but her suicide scene only angered me. There are better and much more productive ways of dealing with scenes that involve suicide and still getting exactly what the writers need from their viewers. Theirs was in poor taste, to say the least. Besides, why the hell was Series Clay narrating that scene as if he was there when she did it? And to top it all off, the writers had Series Clay say his most detrimental line of all, “I cost a girl her life because I was afraid to love her.” What was the message here? What were the writers trying to say here? The only message I received was that Series Hannah, made all her tormentors feel so guilty and shitty to the point that she drove Series Alex to hurt himself (which actually is still to be determined. Seems like the finale hinted at a possible second season. But it was heavily implied.) But if Series Clay truly believed that he was still at fault for Series Hannah’s decision, then I suspect the viewers agree. Which is ultimately my biggest problem with the series, because I could have lived with all the changes if it had NOT AFFECTED THE MESSAGE OF THE STORY. Book Clay got closure and his answers and he understood it was not his fault or the others entirely, but that it was Hannah’s decision, ultimately. In fact the writers contradicted themselves within their own story line. When Series Hannah delivered her tapes the day of her suicide, she bumped into an old acquaintance that offered her a glimmer of hope, but still Series Hannah kept to her mission and still committed suicide. Her mind was made up and Book Clay was able to recognize that.

Clay: “But it shouldn’t have. I was there for you, Hannah. You could have reached out but you didn’t. You chose this. You had a choice and you pushed me away. I would have helped you. I wanted to help you. Your mind was set. No matter what you say, it was set.”

That’s what Book Clay said towards the end of listening to his tape. None of that, “I-could-have-loved-her-sadness-away,” type of bullshit lie. While Series Clay concluded that he let her down and was directly responsible for her death and even made an off-putting comment about jumping off the cliff he was standing on, making Series Hannah the biggest piece of **** who made everyone on her shit-list fill guilty AF. The writers really let Book Hannah down. Oh and fuck you Series Tony, although I actually enjoyed your character, besides that one useless scene where you and your familia beat the shit out of that one guy because ??? stereotype, anyone? When Series Clay asked Series Tony if he killed Series Hannah, his response was, “YEAH.” But let’s be honest that scene went a little bit different in the book.

Clay: Impossible to answer. Because no, I didn’t push her away. I didn’t add to her pain or did anything to hurt her. Instead, I left her alone in that room. The only person who might have been able to reach out and save her from herself. To pull her back from wherever she was heading. I did what she asked and I left. When I should have stayed. “No one blames me,” I whisper. I need to hear it said aloud. I need to hear the words in my ears and not just in my head. “No one blames me.”

Tony: “No one.”

Clay: “What about you?”

Tony: “No, I don’t blame you.”

And like I said before, the tapes were lessons not guilt trips. She needed them to know the truth, her truth and hoped they’d recognize the error of their ways and change for the better. BE BETTER PEOPLE.

I know that book adaptations into films/shows don’t always go by the book. Things change. I get that, but with such a heavy and real topic, and Jay Asher fighting every step of the way to let his readers know his story wasn’t about guilt but about starting a conversation about something so serious as suicide... I feel like the show let the original message down and made it about a girl blaming her classmates for her death. And made very shitty conclusions through Series Clay’s character that their viewers could actually believe as true.

Over all, I give the series 3/5 (for sentimental reasons...I had been waiting for thirteen reasons why to finally have a visual and I had high hopes. Damn. But you could say I’m being overly critical.)

I give the book 5/5 (totally recommend everyone to read the real story as it was intended. WORTH IT. But you could say I’m being biased.)

Bonus, here’s an article about the mini series: Other People Aren’t Responsible For Your Mental Health: Why ’13 Reasons Why’ Is Pretty Much Bullshit

#13 reasons why #thirteen reasons why #netflix #jay asher #selena gomez #unpopular opinion #spoilers #tw: rape #tw: self-harm #tw: suicide #long post #trw

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