#not gonna lie i almost just killed reggie at the end but i didn’t want angst so we got a happyish ending

[musicoftheheart]

hiiiiiiii dori

i’ve written a prompt for you and it feels like something you may enjoy writing so i’m sharing it with you:

“Goodbye, James.”

Thats was the last time he’d heard Regulus’ voice

The first time he saw the Dark Mark across his lover’s arm

And the moment he decided to go against everything he’d ever learned.

Ever treasured.

Ever believed in.

Just to see his lover again.

omg hiii! thank you so much for this, it was so much fun to write <33

word count: 658

“Goodbye, James.”

That was the last time he’d heard Regulus’ voice.

The first time he saw the Dark Mark across his lover’s arm.

And the moment he decided to go against everything he’d ever learned.

Ever treasured.

Ever believed in.

Just to see his lover again.

As much as it shamed him to admit it, James was almost glad his parents weren’t around to see it; to see the deep black ink marring his forearm. He wasn’t sure he could’ve stomached seeing them realise that their son — the boy they’d cradled in their arms, the boy they’d raised to be kind and thoughtful and loving — had branded himself the same as murderous blood purists.

But that was just it, wasn’t it? James had been raised to love and to protect the people closest to him. And nobody had been as close to him as Regulus Black.

He could still feel the ghost of his touch, when he thought hard enough. It was all that kept him going when he’d thrown his first Avada Kedavra; it was all for Regulus. To protect him. To show him that no matter what he did, he was never ‘too cruel’ or ‘too monsterous’ for James. Because anything Regulus had done, James had too, now.

James was yet to see Regulus at any meetings, though. Or missions. Crouch Jr. said it was because James wasn’t very high in the ranks, yet.

So he rose.

He rose and he rose until even Bellatrix Lestrange was beneath him. She feared him, even. The Dark Lord was letting James lead missions; letting him plan them and decide who to bring and who to kill and who to curse until they forgot their own name. It pained him, at first. These were his friends, and he had to treat them like enemies. Marlene, Dorcas. Alice and Frank. Lily, Peter, Remus. Sirius.

For Regulus, James reminded himself, flinging a slicing hex at one of the Prewett brothers.

For Regulus, James thought, using his animagus form to spy on Order meetings.

For Regulus, James thought, facing down children on the battlefield.

He was slowly becoming more and more numb to it. Eventually, he wasn’t sure he felt anything at all.

But then.

It was a meeting like any other. The Dark Lord’s inner circle sat at the table, while lower ranking Death Eaters stood around the room. One seat eternally empty — Regulus’ — between The Dark Lord and Lucius Malfoy, and directly opposite James. James had resigned himself to another hour of missing his love when, moments before the meeting was to begin, the doors swung open.

There, moving across the large manor dining room with the grace and presence of royalty, was Regulus Black. Perfect black curls smoothed back from his face, showing his sharp cheekbones and icy cold eyes and pursed lips.

James couldn’t wait to feel them again.

Regulus didn’t seem to notice him, at first, but James could see it the moment he did. Those gorgeous eyes widened just a touch, his lips fell apart. It took all of James’ self control not to throw himself across the table and invade them with his tongue.

At a guess, James reckoned Regulus took in as little of the meeting as he did himself. Their eyes had locked across the table and it seemed like nothing at all could break their stares, not until The Dark Lord announced the meeting’s conclusion and Regulus all but ran from the room like it was on fire.

By the time James caught up to him, Regulus had hidden himself away in a small drawing room and was pacing, hands tugging at his hair. He turned abruptly when James shut the door behind himself.

”James,” he breathed, running into James’ arms. Everything James had done — the curses he’d thrown, the lives he’d ended — it all fell away into nothing. All that was left was the love cradled in his arms.

”Hello, love.”

[headheartbellarke]

I Wish You Would | CHARLIE GILLESPIE

Requested by anon: “hello🌼 could u please write a charlie x reader imagine when he posts a picture on his instagram story with a girl to makes his crush jealous, but she end up distancing herself from him bc she's hurt and respect what she thinks is his relationship” PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x fem!reader WORDS: 2,445 WARNING(s): angst w a happy ending, some language SUMMARY: “I wish you knew that I'd never forget you as long as I'd live."

A/N: hi, everyone!! really, really sorry that this took so long. haven’t had the best march tbh, and writer’s block is a bitch. && this isn’t very good, either, but i had to get something done. love u <3

TEN HOURS EARLIER

“And… post!” Charlie taps his phone, grinning brightly.

Owen cheers from behind him, his voice meshing into the humdrum of the bar they’re currently at. “I’m so proud of you!”

His friend laughs, spinning around in the bar stool to face him. “She’ll finally understand what it feels like!”

Owen nods frantically, taking another sip of the drink in his hand.

Charlie copies his movement – a part of him knows that he is absolutely hammered, but the bigger part of him doesn’t care. He’s had a long day, and he deserves this.

Besides, how else would he and his best friend have thought of this wonderful plan if they didn’t have a billion drinks in their system?

PRESENT

A knock on the door pulls Y/N from her thoughts. “Come in!” She yells, but her voice comes out feeble and hoarse, probably from all the crying she’s been doing for the past hour.

As the door swings open, her best friend, Savannah, pokes her head in. “Hey, babe. You all right?”

Y/N sniffs. “M’fine.”

Savannah enters the room, closing the door softly behind her. She walks to the window, opening the curtains, and Y/N groans when light floods into the previously dark room.

She sits on the bed beside Y/N, and Y/N rests her head on her shoulder as she pulls the covers up to cover their bodies.

“I’m sure that they’re not dating.” Savannah says, wrapping an arm around her best friend.

Y/N chuckles sadly. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Sav. I mean, in the photo, he was kissing her cheek. Literally. And he put a heart between them.”

Savannah sighs. “That’s so not Charlie, you know… kissing random girls in bars and posting pictures with them.”

“Yeah, that’s so not Charlie, because she’s not a random girl. Her name’s Francesca and she went to high school with him, so, technically, she’s known him longer, and probably better than me.”

“I – I had no idea.”

“Yeah.”

“Y/N, babe, just tell him about how you feel. I’m sure that he likes you too.”

“If he liked me, then he wouldn’t be kissing Francesca!”

Y/N exhales, as Savannah gulps, not knowing what to respond. “Y/N, I – I swear, he’s crazy about you. I don’t know what happened between last Friday and today, but I swear – the Charlie that I know – has eyes for no one but you.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, feeling a pang in her heart at Savannah’s words. “Savannah, we kissed and then he ghosted me for a day and now he’s posting pictures of him kissing another girl! I think he has eyes for everyone!”

Savannah bites her lower lip, not knowing what to respond, again. Her best friend feels tears prick at the back of her eyes when she says, “Maybe I’m a bad kisser.”

Savannah’s eyes widen, and she sits up, straight. “No. No. Babe, no. Don’t say that, ever. You’re a great kisser, okay! You’re an amazing kisser. Your lips are fine as hell, believe me. He’s the one with crusty ass lips. They’re not even lips, they look like… like… peanuts.”

Y/N stares at her best friend for a moment, before saying, “Peanuts, Sav? Really?”

“It’s the first thing that came into my mind!” She says defensively, before the girls break into a fit of laughter.

“I’m never talking to him again, ever.” Y/N says after they’ve calmed down. “I’m never even gonna look in his direction. Fucking asshole.”

*

Charlie sighs, taking another sip of his coffee. It’s eight in the morning, and he’s normally a morning person – he loves the mornings, the peace, the quiet, and the feeling that comes along with it more than anything, but right now, he just feels… sad.

On regular days, he would be talking to his best friend, Y/N, about everything that’s on his mind. But today’s different.

Last Friday, Y/N kissed him, and long story sort, it was the best thing that’s ever happened to him. After work that day, they went to get some food at a drive through, like they usually do. All throughout the ride, they made plans to go hiking once the production for season two finishes. She drove the car to a lookout, and oh, god, it was so pretty. The midnight sky was littered with stars, and since they were at the edge of town, there was less pollution, and they could see bits of the galaxy, too.

But, for some reason, the girl next to him seemed more beautiful than anything he’s ever seen, and after they finished eating, he just sat and stared at her talk about the last book that she’d read, for a while. He knows that it was terrible that he wasn’t listening – but how could he pay attention to anything when she looked like that, especially with passion illuminating her face like times square on New Year’s Eve?

She had looked at him as if he’d just grown a third head. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Li – like what?” He’d asked, embarrassed to be blatantly caught.

“Like that…” She’d said and kissed him, and it felt like he was seeing colour for the first time. Although, the next day, everything turned to shit.

Now, it’s Monday, and she’s nowhere to be seen. He desperately wants to know if his and Owen’s plan actually worked (no reason that it wouldn’t), and he feels so impatient right now, and he misses her. Also, his massive hangover isn’t helping, either.

He hears his name being called, and sees Kenny smiling at him.

“Hey, so we’re gonna do a different scene today, since Y/N and Savannah are out, is that okay with you?”

His heart races. “What happened to them?”

“Y/N’s sick, and Savannah’s taking care of her.”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s okay with me.” He says, feeling his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach.

*

“This is the last time I’m asking you this…” Y/N sings, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Put my name at the top of your list!” Savannah sings, using Y/N’s straightener as a mic.

“This is the last time I’m asking you why!” Madison joins.

“You break my heart in the blink of an eye, eye, eye!” Jadah sings, jumping on the bed.

As the second verse comes on, the girls sit on Y/N’s bed, huddled close to each other.

“You know, I’m feeling better now than I did when I woke up.” Y/N says, resting her chin on her knees.

“Taylor Swift can fix anything.” Madison says, leaning her head on Y/N’s shoulder.

She nods. “And y’all. Thanks for being here.”

Jadah grins, wrapping an arm around her. “We couldn’t let you have a pity party all alone!”

Savannah laughs. “I’m gonna kill him, I swear.”

“As relieving as that would be, don’t. I’ve decided what I should do.”

Madison quirks a brow. “You’re gonna kill him yourself?”

“Madi! No. I’m gonna distance myself.”

Savannah tilts her head. “I think that maybe you two should talk it out.”

“I don’t think so. I need space, time to figure it out. My head feels like a mess. And I respect him and Francesca, and I’m not gonna dip my toes between them.”

The other girls solemnly nod their head.

“You do realize that that’s not actually the saying?” Jadah says, after a while.

“Don’t embarrass me, kid.”

*

Charlie exhales, watching his breath crystallize to tiny ice particles in front of him. Even though, he’s a Canadian, he still feels cold. Although maybe it’s not due to the weather, but due to the coldness in Y/N’s eyes.

He watches her chat with Jeremy a few feet away, both of them discussing something that is out of bounds to him. He knows that it’s probably decisions regarding their characters, considering Y/N’s character is Jeremy’s character, Reggie’s love interest, but a part of him feels like it’s shit about him.

He has no reason to feel that way, of course. He hasn’t spoken to Y/N in four days, and this morning, when he saw her after for what feels to be eternity, he was blatantly ignored. He had only watched helplessly as Y/N exited the room the moment he entered and had sunk into his chair feeling like absolute shit, especially with everyone’s pitiful stares.

Charlie’s mind keeps replaying each moment, torturing over every tiny detail, wondering what he did wrong.

And that’s when it hits him: she really doesn’t want him anymore.

Last Saturday, he had hopelessly watched her with her long-term boyfriend of god-knows-how-long – he had come to surprise her on set, and it was Charlie that was more surprised. Because he thought that they were over, for good. And it wasn’t like they seemed like they weren’t dating. They were acting just like they used to when they were dating, and he was too close to her for his comfort. They still laughed the same, joked around the same, and were just as inseparable as they used to be.

A question kept rising in Charlie’s mind, like an icicle to his heart: why would she kiss him when she already had someone else? Why would she give him hope, and then take it all away? Why would she dangle his hurt in front of him?

So, he decided to give her a taste of her own medicine, and posted a picture with Francesca, his high school friend, who he had run into that night.

Owen sinks into the chair beside Charlie. “You okay?”

“I’m starting to believe that our plan didn’t work.”

*

“Hey, uh, Y/N?”

The girl in question hears Charlie’s voice, and turns around, avoiding looking into his eyes.

“Can we talk?” He says, and for a moment, her defences are down again. He looks so… tired, almost like he’s going through the same things that she is. Almost like there’s an explanation as to why he broke her heart, why he ruined something that had the potential to be extraordinary, why he made her feel so bad about herself.

And she almost believes it, too. Like the fool she is.

She presses her lips into a thin line, and says, “Nothing to talk about.”

As Charlie opens his mouth to protest, she smiles and walks away.

*

“Okay, Charlie, you two need to talk it out. This is too much. Both of you are obviously hurting, and there’s obviously some serious miscommunication here.”

Charlie shakes his head at Savannah’s words. “She hates me.”

“No. She could never hate you.” She says, thrusting her phone in Charlie’s face. His eyes squint to read the text on the screen – from Y/N.

Sorry – forgot to leave a note. Drove down to Dad’s, gonna stay here for a while. It’s too painful – honestly, you know what? I’m still very, very, very mad at him. But I’m also missing him very, very, very much. So, I need to flush it out. Flush him out. He might be a jerk, but he’s still one of the best people that I’ve ever met. Love you, okay? Will return when the time is right.

Charlie’s eyes widen, and he stares at Savannah’s face for a while. “There – there is still hope!”

She nods frantically. “You should call her –”

“I’m gonna drive down to her dad’s house, too!”

“That works, too.”

*

A frantic knock on the front door pulls Y/N from her thoughts. She stops typing on her keyboard, and flips the lid shut, keeping it on the dining table in front of her.

She runs to her dad’s door, knowing that it’s him, back from his shopping. She opens the door, saying, “Let me take those for – Charlie?!”

Y/N’s heart swells at his sight as he grins sheepishly.

“So, there’s been some misunderstandings… can I come in?” He asks, and Y/N pauses, considering.

He sighs, and adds, “Please?”

She stares at him.

He juts his bottom lip out. “Pretty please?”

“Fine, come in.”

He closes the door behind him, wordlessly following Y/N, who feels like she might hurl right now. They sit on the couch, and it’s really, really awkward for a few seconds.

Y/N sighs. “You said you –”

“Yes. Yes, yeah. OK, so – I, uh, I –”

She couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Why would you do that to me? Do I really mean that little to you?”

“I could say the same about you!”

“Really?”

“Yes! I saw you with Shahid that day, I know that you two are back together –”

“Shahid?!”

“Yes!”

She stares at him, baffled.

“So…so… Francesca….”

“I only posted the picture to make you jealous! She asked me if I wanted to go out with her and the rest of my high school friends, and of course I went, and she saw that I was being a little… unsocial. So, I told her about how the girl that I’m completely crazy about has a boyfriend! And a long term one at that, too! And then Owen came up with a brilliant plan, and I guess you know what it was. Now, I’m realizing that it might not have worked.”

She stares at him for a moment, before she bursts out laughing. Charlie throws her a confused look.

“You – you thought that Shahid – Shahid, my best friend since we were in nappies, Shahid who is married to this amazing man, and at whose wedding I was the maid of honour – you thought that I was dating him?”

“He’s gay?!”

“Bisexual. Oh my god, I have to tell him. This is hilarious.”

Charlie bites the corner of his lower lip, feeling his cheeks heat up. “This is really embarrassing. But you two act like you’re dating!”

“No, we don’t. You’re just being insecure and jealous. I’ve known him forever, and yes, I am the most comfortable around him. Because he’s my family. He’s my brother. Oh, god, I can’t believe that you were jealous of him – wait, have you thought that we were dating this whole time?”

“Kind of. I thought you guys broke up when he didn’t visit you on set during the first two months of production.”

“He was helping feed kids in Somali.”

“Oh. Oh. God, I feel so –”

“Dumb? That’s because you are.”

He grins sheepishly, his cheeks crimson.

Y/N smiles. “But I forgive you. And I wouldn’t mind if you took me on a proper date this time.”

“Deal. Also, promise that we’ll always talk it out before… you know… doing anything?”

She laughs, and nods. He wraps his pinkie finger around hers.

“Well, Owen’s plan did kind of work, though.”

[xreaderbooks]

Letting go

Pair: Luke Patterson x Ghost! reader, Platonic! Willie x reader, Platonic! Alex x reader

Warnings: Death and mentions of suicide, drug abuse, kinda angsty 

Word Count: 2k

For ages 18+

A/N: This is overall pretty depressing and it's not exactly a happy ending, I wrote this based off the song Out of love by Alessia Cara. Its not my best work but either way I hope you enjoy. 

Disclaimer: Gifs are not mine

Masterlist

You knew this day would come. You don't know how many times you've called yourself stupid and cursed yourself. He liked her possibly even loved her by now. You were a fool for thinking that just because you found each other in this new version of life, that he could love you the same as he did before. Just because you were together before you died doesn't mean that you could have a life together after death. No matter how much you were still deeply enamored with him. Him and his stupid bright smile, his laugh that was contagious, his chocolate hair that you loved to run your hands through in the middle of cuddling. The calming feeling it gave you both, would it still have that same affect if you tried it now? Let's not mention his eyes. Oh, his eyes. The big green eyes that made him look like a puppy, so pure and innocent, it also held pain that you both would share at times. You both coming from families who had expectations. Expectations that neither of you could hold up. His eyes gave you hope, and butterflies and love.

They still did, he still did. He still had his optimism; although you could tell it was forced. it was the same thing he always tried to do. He was always the one to brighten peoples day and be the strong optimistic one when the others (and even himself) weren't. Either way he was still that same character he always was. And you were still deeply, unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. You think you always would be.

Despite the new changes of your relationship. Or change. That change being Julie Molina. You saw the way that Luke had looked at her, praised her and her voice. You couldn't hate her for it. It would've been easier to hate her if she was a bitch, you couldn't lie, however she wasn't. She was loyal, caring and determined. She was strong and beautiful and exactly the type of person Luke needed. You were friends with Julie and you cared for her. So, no, you couldn't hate her. It wasn't her fault you changed and was no longer what he wanted. She was not responsible for your insecurities or feelings that you still held for Luke or the feelings that he held for her.

You decided you would let him go. You would let him go because your time with him was over. You were no longer what he needed nor what he wanted and that was okay because you would let him go.

You died a couple of months after the guys did. It was a drug overdose. After the Luke, Alex and Reggie's passing, you got into some pretty bad habits. Such as partying, alcoholism and your cause of death; drugs. It was not great.

The week of your death was rough. You were cleaning your closet after weeks of not doing so, you were gonna make a change, you would do better. That was until you found multiple shirts of Lukes laying about your closet, they were hidden underneath all of your other clothes that were piled up in there. In one particular jacket you found a note in the pocket. 'Can't wait for you to hear the surprise I have for you after the show beautiful ;)' After reading the barely legible note , you broke. You had suspicions he was writing a song about you, he was hinting at it before... and now this confirmed it. You would've gone looking for his notebook if it wasn't for Bobby who when you told him, brushed you off and took you out to distract you. That was when you were introduced to some guy who Bobby told you; had 'the good stuff'. You shrugged it off and took whatever he gave you. Turns out you took too much in so little time and you were dead.

After accepting the fact that you were dead, you wandered around 'life' hoping you'd find your lover and best friends. That day didn't come and you found yourself befriending another ghost named Willie. He was kind enough to show you the perks of being, well, dead. He even tried to introduce you to Caleb and that whole world but you decided you were out before you were even in. You had felt enough bad vibes from Caleb to know not to get involved with him. If only you had those survival instincts when you were alive.

Then it was 25 years of being a ghost and Willie had came to hang out with you in your favorite spot that you now called your home, a beach house that some rich family used as their Summer home.

"Hey Y/N, made a new friend today." He said skating into the house. You walked out of one of the rooms while reading a book, not really paying attention to what he was saying. "Oh really? that's cool."

"Yeah his names Alex, said he was in a band." You froze and looked up at him as he skated and transported on top of the kitchen counter. 'No,' you thought. 'It couldn't be your Alex, could it?' There was no way, not after all these years, it doesn't make sense. There were also a million different guys named Alex in the world. 'But he said he was in a band.' Your mind raced through the different scenarios. If you were thinking logically it could be a coincidence and it'd be stupid to think there wouldn't be any other guys out there who was dead, in a band, and named Alex. When you put it like that...

"How'd he look like?" Willie looked confused when you asked but answered. "Blonde hair, blue eyes, kinda cute but I call dibs."

Your heart was pounding, if Alex was here that could mean that Luke might be with him. You managed to roll your eyes at his reclamation. "Yeah you can have him, but um, you think I can go with you next time you meet with him?"

He looked at you shocked, "Uh sure?" He came up to you holding a hand to your forehead as if checking your temperature. "Are you okay? Is the loneliness getting to you?" You pushed his hand away.

"I'm fine dummy."

He laughed. "I'm just saying you never wanna meet any of my friends."

"Yeah, cause you have so many." You said sarcastically and plopped down on the couch. Willie, as extra as he is, jumped over it to sit next to you.

"Not true I have-"

"Ghost club doesn't count, they're creepy and enslaved to Caleb." You opened your book and pretended to read while you thought of what you would do if it really was your Alex.

"Whatever, what made you all of a sudden decide to be social?"

You closed the book and crossed your legs. You decided to be honest with him. You already told him of how you died, how you had a boyfriend who also died along with your best friends. He tried to help you find them until you gave up. You didn't however go into detail about how they died or what they did. That just brought on too many memories. But now you decided it was time. So you told him everything.

~~~

You were anxious as you waited for Willie and Alex at a place where Willie likes to skate at. If it was your best friend Alex you wanted to talk to him in a private place not surrounded by people. Even though you were all ghosts and nobody could see you, it felt more special and less awkward with people potentially walking through you. But if it wasn't your Alex then you could just leave and let Willie enjoy his 'date' with the guy.

When they showed up you almost screamed. You were in shock, there he was, one of your best friends. Probably the one with the most brain cells. "Alex?" Although you already knew you called his name to catch his attention.

"Y/N?" He ran up to you and hugged you.

"Alex," You patted his back "can't- breath."

He let you go putting his hands on your shoulders and pushed you to arm length as he observed you, taking in your appearance. "Wait..." You saw his face fall from the wide smile to a solemn expression. "Oh Y/N/N."

"Yeah..." You rubbed your arms.

"How?" He asked. "You look just the same as you did back then."

You chuckled. "Well so do you."

"But wouldn't that mean that you-'

"Died around the same time you guys did? Yup."

"Again, how?" He pushed. "You didn't, y'know ki-"

"God, Alex no I didn't kill myself." You smacked his arms away and paced around. "It's a long story, one that I'd don't wanna tell three different times. Are Reggie and Luke with you?" You asked hopefully. And he shook his head. You sighed in relief. "Where are they?"

"C'mon I'll take you to them."

And he did.

When you showed up to Julies garage and saw Luke for the first time he stood still, staring in disbelief. Reggie was the first one to come up to you throwing his arms around you and jumping excitedly. Once you managed to get Reggie off you, you went up to Luke "Hey baby." Tears were forming in your eyes. He pulled you into your third hug today, then pulling back, kissing you quickly and pulling you in again.

~~~

The bliss of being reunited only lasted so long before the band got caught up in performing in their new band Julie and the phantoms. You were glad that they were happy and that they had something that motivated them. And that all this time they were together. They even made friends, with a lifer, something you couldn't wrap your head around but you were happy for them. For a time you were happy with them. You were back with you best friends and you made new ones. You and Luke had a bit of a complicated relationship, you acted like you had always acted, of course things were different but you still talked like a couple. You acted like couple. Kisses were another story, it wasn't casual anymore it was when it was needed. It wasn't like before where if you would go somewhere or show up, you would give Luke a quick kiss goodbye or hello. Now it was more in the moment when you guys cuddled and you would look at each other and remember the memories of the past; of when you were alive and planning a life together. Your relationship wasn't what it was before but you would take it. After years of being alone -- with the exception of willie-- you would take those moments that you didn't feel were given 100% fueled with romantic and passionate love but with something different.

That was until the whole situation with Caleb happened and Luke and Julie hugged. They touched, how that happened you didn't know. What you did know is they were connected and they had chemistry. It was a hug, you internally rolled your eyes at your childishness. Technically you would've been an adult by now. Why were you worrying about your boyfriend hugging his friend after a situation where you all thought you'd be separated forever.

Maybe it was because you knew it meant more. The way they were holding each other wasn't how he held you the first time you saw each other again. You tried to brush it off, blaming it on you being insecure, it meant nothing.

Weeks had passed and nothing had changed besides the obvious tension and chemistry that Julie and Luke had. That was when you made the choice to let him go. You had nothing to offer him. If you were to get into technicalities Luke couldn't offer Julie anything, he was dead and she was still living. However they would have some time together and they had the band!

You did what you thought was best and you left a note on Julies piano along with with the note you found in Luke's pocket before you died. You always carried it around but there was no point in holding on to something that wasn't gonna be yours anymore. You would be in your beach house, where if they wanted to find you they could. For now you would let him go.

[rhys-writes-sometimes]

Music Worth Making Part 1: Bright Forever

Requested: nope!

Warnings: abuse, child neglect, shitty parents, death, food, terrible writing

Series Summery: When the reader’s life is ripped away from them, they’re distraught. But with her two best friends and three certain ghosts, maybe the afterlife isn’t so bad after all. 

Chapter Summery: The band Sunset Curve was about to have a life-changing concert when they ate some bad hotdogs and died. 25 years later, you’re best friends with the girl who discovers them. 

Words: 3,026 

A/N: This is pretty much just introducing the characters and their relationships to one another. Things will get more interesting in the next few chapters.Also, the reader is non-binary! <3 lyrics are italicized Part 2 ______________________________________________________

Hollywood 1995

“Don’t look down, ‘cause we’re still rising up right now, and even if we hit the ground we’ll still fly, keep dreaming like we’ll live forever, but live it like it’s now or never.”

The teenaged boys finished their soundcheck, earning scattered applause and even a “whoo!” from the employees working at The Orpheum that night. The band didn’t try to hide their smiles as they took a bow. 

“Thank you, we’re Sunset Curve!” one called out.

“Tell your friends!” another added. 

“Too bad we wasted the tightest we’ve ever played on a soundcheck,” one said as they set down their instruments. 

“Wait until tonight man, when this place gets packed with record execs.”

The boys all nodded, thinking of all the chances of fame they would have after that night.

“Okay, well, I’m thinking we fuel up before the show. I’m thinking street dogs?”

Two of the other boys liked that idea, but the other one had other plans.

Jumping off the stage, he started to make his way over to a young woman who was wiping down tables.

“Hey Bobby, where you going?” the one who had suggested they go get street dogs called out.

“I’m good!” he called out to his bandmates, then said to the girl: “Vegetarian. I could never hurt an animal.” 

“You guys are really good,” she said with a smile as the other three guys joined their band member at her table. “I see a lot of bands. Been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.”

The guys all smiled. 

“That’s what we do this for,” one of them said. The tips of his chestnut colored hair almost reached the top of his shirt with cut off sleeves. “I’m Luke, by the way.”

“Hi, I’m Reggie.” Reggie had black hair and was wearing a leather jacket with a red flannel tied around his waist. An interesting combination, but somehow the outfit worked. 

“Alex.” A boy with blond hair spoke up from where he was hovering just to the side of the group, wearing a pale pink t-shirt.

“Bobby.” The boy who had first walked over to the girl had brown hair and a sleeveless jacket over a t-shirt. 

“Nice meeting you guys. I’m Rose.” The girl smiled at all of them again as Luke licked his finger and stuck it in Bobby’s ear. 

“Oh uh, here’s our demo, and a t-shirt, size beautiful.” Reggie handed Rose a CD and a t-shirt, earning a small groan from Alex. 

“Thanks. I’ll make sure not to wipe the tables down with this one.” 

“Oh, good call. Whenever they get wet, they just kinda fall apart in your hands,” Alex informed her.

“Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?” Bobby asked, clearly wanting to talk to Rose without the other three around. 

“Yeah.” Luke leaned closer to Rose, as if to tell her a secret. “He had a hamburger for lunch.”

-----

“Man, I can’t wait until we eat someplace where the condiments aren’t served out of the back of an Oldsmobile,” Alex grumbled as he put a pickle on his hot dog. “Hey, sorry, I got some pickle juice on your battery cables.”

“No problem. It’ll help with the rust,” the man cooking hot dogs said with a slight chuckle.

“That can’t….okay.”

The three made their way over to a couch to eat. Before they could dig in, however, Luke started speaking. 

“This is awesome, you guys. We’re playing The Orpheum! I can’t even count how many bands have played here and then ended up being huge,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Eat up, boys. ‘Cause after tonight, everything changes.”

They all bit down hungerly into their street dogs.

Alex was the first to notice that something was off. “That’s a new flavor,” he said, a small amount of worry creeping into his tone.

“Chill man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” Reggie tried to calm down his friend.

Luke hesitated for a moment, then took another huge bite.

-----

Los Angeles 2020

You made your way through the hallway, walking fast, faces pass, weaving around people as you tried to reach your locker. You smiled as you saw your two best friends waiting for you.

“Hey, underacheiver,” Flynn said in greeting.

“Hey, disappointments,” you joked back to them. “Okay, Julie, I know you don’t want me to ask, but have you figured out what you’re gonna do today?”

“I’ll know in the moment.” The frizzy-haired girl fiddled with her bracelets as she spoke, the only clue that she was nervous for her proformance later.

“Really, Jules? That’s all your giving us? Mrs. Harrison said-” Flynn was cut off from scolding one of her best friends.

“This is my last chance, I know, I was there,” Julie finished. Flynn smiled softly for a moment, but it turned to a grimace of disgust as she noticed a girl handing out flyers. 

“Ugh, what is she handing out?” she questioned.

“Desperation?” you said, only half joking. Julie and Flynn snickered. 

However, you put on a smile as the girl walked up to the three of you. 

“Here you go. My group’s performing at the spirit rally tomorrow. I’m sure you guys have nothing better to do,” she said, her eyes sweeping over you critically as she handed the flyer to Flynn. 

Flynn put on a bright, sarcastic smile. “Oh my gosh, Carrie, thanks!”

“Oh my gosh, Flynn, don’t bother coming!”

The three of you rolled your eyes at Carries retreating back. However, someone else caught Julie’s eye. 

“Nick?” you asked, looking between Julie and the blond-haired boy she was staring at.

“Still?” Flynn asked. “You know they’re gonna get married and have a bunch of unholy babies.”

“Nick’s a sweetheart.”

“Yeah, you’d actually have to talk to him to know that,” Flynn said with a small smile. “And only one of them has to be a demon to make a demon baby.” 

You nodded your approval of this statement as Flynn called out “Demon!” in Carrie’s direction.

The three of you turned towards the lockers and laughed quietly. 

“There’s that smile,” Flynn said, lightly poking both you and Julie’s face. “Now come on, let’s go prove everybody wrong.”

You flinched slightly as she put her arm around you, but tried not to show it.

-----

“Okay, we have one last proformance,” Mrs. Harrison called out. “Julie.”

You squeezed her hand slightly as she stood up and walked over to the piano. 

She sat in silence for a moment, before saying “I’m sorry,” and running out of the room, with you and Flynn not far behind. 

-----

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 5:30. Have fun at practice, Danny!” you called out after your little brother as he ran to join the baseball team. This was a daily routine for you; drop Danny off at practice, go to Julie’s to study and eat, pick up Danny, go home and endure torture. 

You let your mind wander as you walked to Julie’s house, which luckily wasn’t very far from the sports fields. Walking through the front door, you let your bag fall to the ground as you went to go get something to eat. 

-----

A few hours later, you were walking back to the sports fields. 

“Hey, Danny,” you said once you saw him, ruffling the boy’s hair. “How was practice?”

You paid attention as best you could as he rambled on about what had happened that day, but if you were honest, you didn’t understand a thing about sports. You were just glad your brother had found something that made him happy.

You closed the front door as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake your father. You tip-toed into the kitchen to start making dinner, as you did every night.

“Olivia, is that you?” you mother asked. You winced. 

“Yes, mother,” you sighed slightly, afraid to tell her that you had changed your name to Y/N.

“Hurry up and get dinner started. My feet are tired from cleaning all day.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at the excuse that was very obviously a lie, your house was a mess and you knew you would be expected to clean it later, but you didn’t want to get in trouble. So you fell into a robotic sort-of motion that you had developed as a way of hiding your emotions and thoughts from your parents. 

Thirty minutes and one burnt fingertip later, dinner was ready and waiting on the table. 

“Wake up, Harold, dinner is ready.” Your mother shook your father awake. You knew if you tried that, you would be slapped across the face. By both of them. 

However, your father just sat up sleepily and lumbered over to the table. You stood over to the side as your family ate, not being allowed to join them. 

“Goddamned roast beef is overcooked again,” he grumbled. You blinked back tears. Such a small thing shouldn’t upset you, you knew, but it did. 

You endured the criticism on the meal you had worked hard to make from your mother and father for the next half-hour. Your father declared himself full and snapped his fingers at you. You whisked his plate away before taking your mother’s, too. She never ate after he finished. You took Danny’s too, but only because you knew that your parents disapproved of him still eating. 

“Hey,” your father said, his voice already low and dangerous. “Give your brother back his plate. He wasn’t finished yet.”

You set the plate back down, nodding and shaking slightly. “My apologies, father.”

“Don’t appologize to your father, appologize to your brother!” your mother exclaimed, grabbing Danny’s hand from across the table and giving it a squeeze. 

“It’s okay, really, I was done,” he hurried to say.

Your mother frowned at him. “Are you sure, darling?”

He nodded. 

“Well, okay then…” she said, still frowning slightly. “You may be excused.” 

He ran off to his room. You took his plate. 

Heading back to the kitchen with a small sigh, you started making a meal for yourself out of what was left, leaving enough so that your family would have leftovers. 

You ate silently, thinking about how nice it would be to have a caring family. Of course, Danny cared, but he was too young to stand up to your parents, and you never wanted him to have to. You would protect that boy at all costs.

Holding in a sigh, you cleaned up from dinner, and then pulled out the duster to start to clean the house. You were stopped, however, by your mother. 

“What do you think you’re doing?���

“I- I’m cleaning the house…”

“Didn’t you hear me say earlier that I cleaned it? Are you insulting my cleaning job?”

“N-no, I-”

“You what?” Without waiting for an answer, she slapped you across the face. You struggled to remain emotionless; your face stung. 

You thought it was over, but then your father joined in.

“What’s this Jennifer? Is Olivia insulting your hard work?”

“It’s Y/N…” you muttered quietly. Your father overheard and put his face uncomfortably close to yours.

“As long as you’re living under my roof it will always be Olivia. And even if you could change your name, that doesn’t change your gender, freak,” he spat. 

“I know,” you whispered. 

He slapped you.

“Don’t talk back to me.”

Blinking back tears, you stood still as they walked away. Eventually, you remembered the duster in your hand. Placing it back on the shelf, you walked back up to your room, hoping you would be able to escape them for the rest of the night.

-----

The next morning as you and Danny were walking to Julie’s house to go to school, you heard something you hadn’t heard in a long time: music. Julie was singing. 

“Wake up, wake up, if it’s all you do, look out, look inside of you, it’s not what you lost, it’s what you’ll gain raising your voice to the rain.” You smiled. It had been so long since you last heard her voice, and her music was a gift to the world. 

You walked into the studio alone, Danny having gone to talk to Carlos. Julie looked up with small tears in her eyes, seeing you standing there, smiling. She smiled back. 

“It’s so nice to hear you play again.”

Julie smiled wider. “Thanks.”

Just then, Flynn burst in. 

“Carlos told me you’d be out here. We need to talk.” She crossed the room to where the two of you stood by the piano. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, noticing the tears running down her face. 

“No, I’m not okay! One of my best friends just got kicked out of music! I’ve been up all night thinking about what I was gonna say. Might’ve drank seven sodas, but I need to get this out.”

“Wait, I have something to tell you-”

“No. It’s my turn to talk.” Flynn took a deep breath. “You can’t give up music. You’re music’s like a gift, that would be a tragedy. So you’re basically, like, cancelling Christmas, and I love Christmas!”

“Flynn-” you started to say, but she cut you off. 

“Uh-uh! I don’t know why you’re siding with her, Y/N. I know you like hearing her play.”

You knew Flynn didn’t mean to hurt you, but her words stung a little. You nodded once and retreated back into yourself slightly. Flynn was too emotional (and sleep deprived) to notice. 

“When we were six, we promised to be in a band together. Double Trouble!”

“I never agreed to that name,” Julie said, laughing slightly.

“That’s not the point. Jules, if you leave the music program, we’ll be apart forever. That’s just what happens. Sure, we’ll see each other in the hall sometimes, but we’ll have different lives, make new friends…” Flynn said the last part quieter. You could tell she hated the thought of losing one of her best friends.

“That’s not true,” Julie reassured her, but Flynn wasn’t finished.

“You’re right. I won’t be making any new friends. I’ll only have Y/N, and they’re amazing but I’d miss you Jules! And the only time we’ll contact each other is when we’re liking each other’s posts on Instagram. Every time I’ll be hitting that little heart, my heart will be breaking because one of my best friend’s left me, and… do you have any soda? My head hurts.” 

“Can I talk now?” Julie asked tentatively. 

“Fine.”

“I just played the piano and sang again. Y/N can confirm it.” You nodded when Flynn looked at you excitedly. 

“What? Why didn’t you just say so?” She asked, practically bouncing with joy. 

“She was trying to, but then your seven soda’s kicked in,” you answered with a small laugh. 

Flynn was grinning from ear to ear now. “I’m so happy for you! And me! And Y/N!”

You all hugged, but Flynn pulled away quickly, gasping. “We need to tell Mrs. Harrison that you can play so you can stay in school and my life won’t be that sad picture I just painted for you!”

You giggled as Flynn put her arms around both of you. “Y/N, our girl’s back. Double Trouble lives again!”

“Still not our band name,” giggled Julie. 

-----

“Did you end up getting back into the music program?” you asked Julie at the end of your study session for the day. She looked down at her shoes, and you knew what the answer would be before she said it:

“No. No I didn’t.”

You tried not to look too disappointed for her sake. “Oh. I’m really sorry, Jules.”

“It’s…” she sighed. “It’s okay. I can reapply next semester.”

You hugged her. 

“Oh hey, I almost forgot to tell you,” she said right as you were about to walk out of the door. “We decided not to move.”

Despite the news that one of your best friends was no longer in the music program, a smile lit up your face. “That’s great!” you said, pulling her in for another quick hug. Then you walked out the door, not wanting to be late to pick up Danny. 

-----

“Check it out, yeah we make ‘em say Wow!” Carrie bowed as her band, Dirty Candi, finished their dance number. You were at the spirit rally, saving a seat for Julie and Flynn, who were nowhere to be found. 

Suddenly Flynn plopped down beside you. 

“Oh hey, where were you?” you asked the girl.

She tried to blow a piece of hair out of her face, frowning slightly when it wouldn’t move. “I was in the band room. I wasn’t feeling very… spirt-y.” You both chuckled slightly. 

“Where’s Jules?” You looked around for the other girl, but couldn’t see her. 

As if in response to your question, music filled the gym as someone started to play the piano on the stage. You looked up to see Julie, alone on stage, with a spotlight on her. 

“Sometime’s I think I’m falling down, I wanna cry, I’m calling out, for one more try, to feel alive,” she sang, her voice echoing slightly as it filled the room. You smiled, happy she was singing again. 

Then suddenly, there were three boys on stage with her. 

“Whoa!” Flynn exclaimed.

“Where did those boys come from?” you asked in amazement. Julie seemed a little shocked that they were there too. One of them, the lead guitarist you guessed, started singing the second verse. 

“In times that I doubted myself, I felt like I needed some help,” he sang. 

“Whoa, he has a really good voice,” you said, your mouth hanging open slightly. 

You found yourself staring at him as the song went on. You could tell that he really enjoyed playing, and found yourself getting caught up in the music. 

“And rise, through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright forever!” Julie harmonized with the boys, finishing the song. You started clapping with the rest of the crowd that had gathered to watch, proud of your friend.

Then, as suddenly as they appeared, the boys were gone.  

[amythecinnabunny]

71 and 100 Julie and Luke

71. Twenty-Four Hours to Live  

100. Accidentally Saving the Day   

You really would like to kill the fandom and me wouldn't you???? I tried so hard to make it jukebox specific but the whole band + Willie are so closely entwined with each other its nearly impossible akxbjsbsbs

So I'm thinking canon-verse? But a year later or less. I think more than a year would get a little awkward as Julie would surpass 17 in a year's time.

All our current problems and issues are resolved by this point. Ray, Carlos and Tia Victoria have met the band. Possibly Carrie too. The Bobby/Trevor debacle is dealt with. Caleb is deslth with (he's not dead(er) he's just keeping to the HGC). Julie and Carrie have since mended their friendship. Jukebox and Williex are official now. Possibly Flarrie too, maybe Kaylie. Maybe Nick/Flynn. Maybe Carricklynn. Maybe Nick/Reggie. Who knows, anything is possible. Julie can see but not touch Willie -- but he others can't see him at all.

The band has made it big by now. They're the latest and greatest. Almost everyone is talking about Julie and the Phantoms. By now, articles and posts refer to them as legends.

Julie's looking at colleges now and it's kinda settling in that Julie's growing up. In a year, she'll be done with high school and going off to college, something the boys never even had the change to do. So that angsty conversation's gonna happen.

But then things start to get weird. Sometimes, Julie will pass through the boys but they won't immediately notice. Or they'll be talking to someone other that Julie and they'll sort of flicker. Not physically or anything its just that to the other person, they're flickering.

Oh yeah, for this, I'm gonna go with the more they play with Julie, the more human-like they get and by the end of the year gap, they're visible full-time, just not always tangible to people other than Julie. They can still do their gimmick cause the whole visible thing is on command. So you can bet your ass Luke vanished on the spot when Ray asked about jukebox.

The strange thing is . . . It's happening with Willie too. Sometimes Willie's hand will go right through Alex's. Sometimes he and Reggie are playing video games with Carlos and then both of them see Reggie flickering and Reggie, of course, doesn't notice

One evening, after a late night gig, Julie and the boys gather on one couch to watch the local 24/7 news together and see them hit the highlights on a recap. The newscaster??? newsreader??? wtf do you call em? anyway the presenter brings them up near midnight and calls them Los Angeles' most beloved legends.

Midnight on the dot, the boys get these circles on their wrists. Like tattoos. A stamp. Just a thick black ring. They're all confused about it and they check Julie's wrist for a ring -- maybe it's a magic band thing? -- but Julie's wrists are free of any black circles.

They're so confused, they spend all night thinking about it. Julie doesn't even sleep. She calls Flynn about it. She calls Carrie about it. She even talks to Carlos until he gets tired. Alex brings Willie over to talk about it. They're all so baffled that they don't notice it changing until dawn-ish.

Willie's the one to notice Alex's. A quarter of the ring is missing. Julie grabs Luke's wrist and compares it to Reggie's before scrambling over each other to put their wrists next to Alex's. All still identical, with about a quarter of it missing.

"It looks like a countdown."

"What happens when it counts down to the end?"

Silence

Willie says he'll ask around the HGC. Yes, Caleb is safe to visit. His ass has been kicked and it's mostly embarrassment that keeps him holed up when he's not performing or practicing.

Reggie shrugs it off, saying he and Carlos have a date with Destiny. Destiny 2, to be specific. Alex also shrugs it aside, he has a Dirty Candy rehearsal to crash and he's not about to miss it. (The running lie is that the boys visit Julie after every gig. Maybe Kayla knows the truth too. Idk it's small details, up to the author that would like to decimate me by writing this)

That leaves Luke and Julie alone together. Julie can't get it out of her mind. If it's a countdown, what's it counting down to? What happens at the end?

Luke tries to take her mind off it with some songwriting after she gets breakfast, maybe practicing a little together. They even write a little bit of a duet together. Luke keeps Julie entertained for a full four hours, amid which Alex returned and chose to go and watch Reggie and Carlos completely lose track of time.

Julie takes an hour-long nap, leaving Luke to stare at the ring on his wrist and wonder why it's nearly a half circle now.

Willie pops into the studio in a frenzied panic, Reggie and Alex in tow. Luke is so startled, he nearly drops the acoustic. The clatter wakes Julie. Willie looks almost apologetic when he notices her.

Julie asks him what he found out as Luke sits next to her and helps her move her hair from her face. Willie struggles to explain. He's half hoping that maybe, if he doesn't say it aloud, it won't be true. He says it's a clock. It's twenty four hours.

Reggie is the one who asks what happens at the final hour. Willie doesn't answer for a long while. He just holds Alex's hand tight.

At the same time, Willie's hand drops as if he hadn't been holding on to anything and Luke's arm passes right through Julie. The boys flicker before Julie and Willie and it lasts nearly ten seconds.

It slowly dawns on them. No one wants to say it.

"They cross over," Julie whispers when the silence gets heavier than the revelation. Willie only nods. The silence in the garage weighs on them almost visibly.

They look at their wrists, almost half circles.

"So we have about twelve hours left," Alex says. "Maybe we can figure out a way to stop it."

Willie reaches for Alex's hand again. "I asked. There's no way to stop it. Once your unfinished business is complete, you have twenty four hours before you're gone from here. Gone for good."

Luke is adamant there's a way to stop it. His arm tightens around Julie, like she's the one leaving. He hates the defeated look in Willie's eyes. He hates that even in the back of his own mind, there's a voice telling him to get his affairs in order before he dies for the second time.

By the time Reggie determinedly states that there has to be a way to stop it and that they will figure it out, the marks have become perfect half-circles. There are only twelve hours left.

I don't wanna think too hard about it because I don't need to cry at 10pm, but there will be a lot of sad but sweet jukebox moments in between it all.

By the time there's only a third of the ring left, they've started losing hope. They haven't found a single ghost who has any idea how to help. The internet has been very unhelpful. There was a group of wiccans who tried to help but they suggested a spell that didn't look very authentic and it also involved sacrificing a goat at midnight and well, they didn't have until midnight. Still, the wiccans were very sympathetic and wished them well.

They didn't know how to tell the rest about this and they didn't have any idea how to say goodbye to each other. It felt like they were trying to say goodbye to a piece of themselves, the the most important part of themselves.

At the three-quarter mark, Reggie quietly tells Alex and Luke that they ought to spend some time alone with Willie and Julie. If Reggie/Nick or Reggie/Flynn is a thing for this, then Reggie would spend some time alone with them. If not, probably Ray and Carlos.

Cue the most heartwrenching conversation you have ever read in your life, ending with the worlds most grief-filled kiss. I'd get into it but like I said up there, I cannot afford to start crying now.

It's a thin black strip when they get together in the studio. Reggie's partner would be there too if he has one. If not, it's just the band + Willie.

Willie hasn't let go of Alex for over an hour, but now, when the mark is a nearly invisible line, he nudges Alex forward, towards Julie and Luke.

"Band circle?" Luke tries to joke. It only makes their tears fall faster.

Reminiscent of the hug they shared when Caleb's stamp lifted, the four of them try as hard as they can to hug each other as tightly as possible. Willie thinks to himself that he feels strange not being the last person to hold Alex, but it feels like for his band to be the last people to hold him.

None of them are very co-ordinated outside of music related things and just like the night a year ago, they tumble to the ground when someone stands on someone's foot and someone leans a little too much in one direction.

Willie can't help the laugh. It's just so them to be so undignified even in their last moments. He can't even see any of their marks anymore. The only reason he knows it must still be there is because the boys are this there. They knock the radio down and it starts playing the last inserted CD. Willie joins them on the ground and lays his head on Alex's chest as Now or Never fills the studio. --like we'll live forever, but live it like it's now or never

Julie, from between Luke and Reggie, reaches over to grab Alex's hoodie, just so she can be holding on to all of them when it happens. "I love you guys so much."

Luke kisses her forehead. There is a chorus of, "I love you too, Julie." Willie and Alex quietly share another set of "I love you"s.

Julie has long since gotten used to laying her head on Luke's chest and hearing nothing, but the silence behind the old song is nearly deafening. It just serves as a reminder than this is the last time she will ever see or touch Luke or Alex or Reggie again. She wraps her other arm around Reggie. It's uncomfortable and is probably bruising some part of her body, but she needs to be able to hold them all before they go.

Julie shuts her eyes and holds tightly to her boys, wishing with all her heart that there was some way to save her boys again. Some way to bring them back properly this time, so they could grow up with her. Some way to make sure Alex and Willie could stay together, that one of then won't ever have to say goodbye.

It only registers that something feels a little strange after the song abruptly cuts. The CD scratches, trying to play the rest of it but there's just a steady clicking sound. It clicks on a steady count. Like a steady drum beat. In time to a pulsing beat.

Like startled stoats, Willie and Julie shoot up and lock eyes over Alex and Luke.

The boys are, rightfully, confused.

Julie and Willie spiderman-meme point at each other, sputtering like an old car on a frozen winter morning.

Still confused and expecting to be long gone, they boys sit up and search their wrists for any traces of the mark, even the thinnest of lines.

Finally, Julie gets a coherent word out. "Heartbeat!"

"Heartbeat!" Willie echoes, nodding vigorously.

They're still jabbing their fingers at each other, having a full conversation with their sputtering sounds.

"Heartbeat?" Reggie echoes, baffled.

Julie and Willie yell at Luke and Alex, "Heartbeat!" It seems to be the only word they can get out. Clicking her tongue, Julie grabs Luke's hand and presses it to his own chest.

Reggie screams suddenly. He's standing suddenly and he's got his fingers at his neck. "P-p-p-pulse!"

He looks at Julie and Willie. "Heartbeat," he says slowly, understanding.

Alex screams. Willie only realises Alex had been holding his wrist when he lets go.

"What?"

Alex reaches out for Willie, as if to cue his face, but instead places his fingers just under Willie's jaw. He screams again, startling Willie, who never expected his boyfriend to look him in the eye and shout like he'd seen a demon. So Willie screams. Which startles Alex. Who screams again.

Luke finally registers what's going on. He screams. Right in Julie's ear. She gets startled. She screams. Startling Luke. Who screams again.

Reggie is still screaming with each place he puts his fingers and feels a steady beat.

There is so much screaming going on in the studio that Ray and Carlos make their way down too. Carri and Flynn, who wanted to be there for Julie after, come barreling in after. The four of them stand there, perplexed, as Julie, Alex, Reggie, Willie and Luke, all standing now, point at each other and scream.

Its pandemonium, honestly. A miracle none of the neighbors have come over to check.

And Julie drops her first curse in front of her dad as she stares at Luke, Reggie and Alex. "WHAT THE FUCK, YOU GUYS????"

Willie, who's never had any qualms cursing when no living adult could ever hear him, stares at Juliie like she's grown a second head. "NO! NO NO NO! NOT THEM WHAT THE FUCK! ME WHAT THE FUCK!!! ME!!!!"

Julie squints at Willie. "What??"

Alex holds up Willie's wrist. "PULSE!!"

Julie's eyebrows shoot up. "PULSE???? WHAT DO YOU MEAN PULSE?!"

"I mean pulse! What do you think??"

"What the hell is going on in here?" Carrie finally mutters.

As one, they all turn to the perplexed group in the doorway. Julie grabs Luke and drags him up to Carrie. She almost throws him at Carrie with the amount of force she uses to thrust his arm at her. "Pulse," she says, pointing to Luke's wrist.

Carrie sighs. "You know you're the only one that can--" Carrie screams when Julie slaps her arm with Luke's hand. Carrie screaming startles Flynn, who let's out a short screech.

"NO MORE SCREAMING!" Ray yells. In the silence, the clicking radio seems to get louder. Not trusting any of the screaming teenagers, Ray turns to his son. "Carlos, can you turn that off, please?"

Carlos rights the radio and presses the pause button. He presses it again. Sunset Curve fills the studio for a second -- dreaming like we'll live forever -- before Carlos manages to get it off.

Later, after they've explained everything and are still trying to wrap their heads around it, Julie crawls onto the couch beside Luke and lays her head on his chest. It's incredibly strange to hear a steady beat where there was once nothing but she can't deny that she loves the sound of it.

"That demo has more magic in it than the entire Hollywood Ghost Club," Alex mutters from the armchair he and Willie are squished into.

"I wonder what'll happen if I listen to any of the other tracks on the demo," Julie jokes.

"We'll probably grow wings," Reggie mutters from under Carlos, who had been so thrilled that Reggie wasn't leaving anytime soon, he had fallen asleep hugging Reggie.

Alex and Luke laugh, sharing an inside joke.

"You think you guys would still be here if Reggie didn't knock the radio over?" Willie asks.

"All hail, my mighty inability to watch where I'm going."

This time, Julie and Willie laugh too.

Julie curls up against Luke and sighs contentedly, listening to Luke's heart pound against his ribcage. In that moment, she can't think if anywhere else she'd rather be, anything else she'd rather listen to.

For the first time since they died, when Julie finally falls asleep, they doze off too.

Willie feels strange. When he yawns, he realizes he hasn't been tired since he first woke up as a ghost. It's nightly inconvenient and annoying, but he hasn't felt this alive since Alex first kissed him. As Willie dozes off, he makes a mental reminder to figure out what included him in the whole thing. He'll forget when he wakes up and they spend the day celebrating their mere alive-ness.

Things get even more interesting when Julie and the Phantoms perform again and Jullie accidentally walks through Luke, but that's a whole other story.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Heathers | Sweet Pea

A/N: Last part! I hope you guys enjoyed this and that it’s all you hoped for. I think Riverdale ruined the musical for a lot of people. I mean, I didn’t even know about Heathers until the episode of Riverdale and back then I was like ‘WTF is this???’ but then I started watching Carrie Hope Fletcher’s vlogs about her being Veronica in Heathers and I decided to give the album a listen and it’s SO GOOD? Like I’m offically obsessed with it. I’m just sad you can’t watch a good quality video of either the off-Broadway version or the West End version. Not gonna lie, I did watch part of the shitty quality bootleg on YouTube, but it’s just not quite the same is it?  Anyway, hope you enjoy this last part!  Also, GIF has nothing to do with this part, I just love Christian Slater as JD and this is one of my fav quotes for some reason, along with “Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling”. 

Act one - Act two - Act three - Act four - Act five - Act six

Words: 4002

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Warnings: panic attack, cursing, sexually tinted scenes 

Act six: Seventeen 

I was right not entirely trusting ‘Stoner chick’ and ‘Preppy kid’. The next day, I get a text from Margot, telling me to meet them at Pop’s before school. I’m not entirely sure what to think of it until I enter the diner and find Margot and Ella in a booth with Sweet Pea. A bunch of nerves sets in my stomach. I feel like I’m going to hurl. So, before they can even see me, I run into the restrooms. There, I try to calm myself down. My hands grip at the cold sink until my knuckles turn white. When I look at my reflection in the mirror, I’d never seen my eyes as dark as they are now. “You can do this,” I tell myself, “You’re Veronica Sawyer for Christ’s sake.” One talk with a boy will not change anything. I’ve been able to have a steamy scene with him and kiss him multiple times on stage, why can’t I just do this one thing? This doesn’t make any sense. I’m not making any sense. After heaving in a deep breath, I gather all my courage and walk back into the diner. “Hey, guys,” I greet, trying to play off the fact that I’d just had a mental breakdown in the restroom. All three of them look up at me. My friends get this wide, bright smile on their faces while Sweet Pea’s lips curl up into a more tender smile. A very cute smile, I might add. “Hey, Y/N!” Ella exclaims overexcitedly. “Join us!” She points at the seat next to Sweet Pea, and without asking anything else, I slide in next to him. Then Margot claps in her hands while Ella places hers on the table as if she’s getting up. “We’ve got to motor though. So…” Margot trails off suggestively. “Have fun!” and without getting another word in, both my friends have dashed off and out of the diner. I stare at their empty seats for a moment before turning to the tall guy next to me. “What a terrible set-up,” I say to him, chuckling. Then my eyes widen when I realize how bad that sounds. “Not that the company’s terrible, just the way they did it was terrible. You’re cool,” I ramble, then sigh when I finally shut up. Sweet Pea sniggers beside me, and when I look up at him, he has that same adorable smile on his face he had when I walked in. “I went ahead and ordered you a vanilla milkshake,” he slides the glass of white goodness towards me. “Margot did drink from it already though; hope you don’t mind.” I roll my eyes. Typical Margot. “Nah, it’s fine. We share lots of things,” mental face palm, “Wait, that sounds so wrong.” “Calm down, Y/N,” Sweet Pea says, grabbing my hands, “Why are you so nervous all of a sudden? You’re never this nervous in rehearsals?” A lump forms in my throat and I really have to try hard to swallow it. “Are you okay?” I look into his eyes to try and find calmness again. Then, I heave in another deep breath and begin my ramble. “IjustlikeyoualotSweetPea, but I’m scared it’s going to change the musical completely somehow or you don’t like me back or you think I’m weird or you’re going to distract me from going to drama school or you’re going to break my heart or Reggie’s going to break your face or… Something like that…” I look up again to find him staring intensely at me. “You don’t like me, let’s go for that.” I nod my head and prepare to get up, but Sweet Pea grabs me by my arm and pulls me back down. “I do like you back, Y/N. But you might be right about it changing the musical. And besides, you don’t want to be with me. Being a gang is a dangerous lifestyle and I don’t want to drag you into that.” A relief washes over me. It’s not exactly what I’d hoped for. But at least I know he likes me back. “So, we agree that this just isn’t the right time for us to start something?” I ask, just to be sure. “Yeah, I guess so… Maybe in a few months or years when we bump into one another in a bar in New York or something,” he smiles a happy smile. “You really think I’ll get to New York?” He nods in response, and from there, my complete outburst has been long forgotten and we’re chatting about the future. About my future in Musical Theatre and Sweet Pea’s possible appliance to some community colleges. It’s a relief nothing really changes between us. We’re on the same page about us being a thing. It’s just the wrong place, wrong time. But still, I can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kiss him. Thank heavens I get to tomorrow night on stage without any strings attached.  

“Are you ready for the show?” Sweet Pea’s voice makes me jump as he’d walked into the dressing room I shared with the Heathers. The girls had already left, and I was alone until a few seconds ago. Since I got dressed and ready, I started stress-reading and stress-singing all of my lines whilst pacing the room, just to make sure all of the lines were still in my head. Playing Veronica Sawyer was a dream, but there’s so much I need to remember and so much I could possibly forget. “No, I don’t think I know any of my lines, my dress is starting to itch, I’m not sure where I left my diary or the pen or the note I have to give to miss Fleming at the start. When do I go on again? And what are we going to do about Dead Girl Walking because I kind of liked our choreography more than Kevin’s and I—” Before I can even finish the last sentence, I’m shut up by his soft lips pressed to mine. I’m startled at first, but once I realize what happens, I relax a little more. My rapidly beating heart slows down again and air is pushed back into my lungs. “You need to calm down, Y/N. Dress rehearsal last night was more than amazing. You know the script by heart, you are Veronica Sawyer. And if you want, we could still do Dead Girl Walking the way we did it the first time. Fuck Kevin’s comments,” he smiles a little as he holds onto my cheeks to force me to look into his eyes. It only relaxes me more, thankfully. “You’re Veronica Sawyer,” he repeats. “Yeah, it’s going to be fine,” I sigh, nodding my head in agreement. “We start in two minutes!” Kevin’s voice sounds from the hallway. Sweet Pea reaches his hand out for me and I take it. He leads me towards the door and then we go to the wings where all of our other co-stars are. Ella and Margot give me a little smile, knowing how nervous I was, and when they see my hand in Sweet Pea’s, their smile turns into a smirk. So, I let go of his hand and walk up to them to talk a bit before we have to get on. “Break a leg,” Sweet Pea tells me before I have to go on for Beautiful. And then, before I know it, we’re already on Dead Girl Walking. To say I’m nervous about what Sweet Pea’s going to do is an understatement. I sing every line, hit the high notes and belts perfectly, and then I’m already in JD’s room. The nerves are building in the pit of my stomach. But then Sweet Pea’s voice calms me down. “Veronica? What are you doing in my room?” I shush him exaggeratingly. “Sorry but I really had to wake you See, I decided I must ride you 'til I break you 'Cause Heather says I gots to go You're my last meal on death row Shut your mouth and lose them tighty whiteys! Come on!” I strip myself of the blue blazer before continuing to sing. Everything is a complete blur until I’m straddling him and we’re full-on making out. I’m so lost in the kiss that I almost forget I need to sing more. “YEAH! Full steam ahead Take this dead girl walking!” "How'd you find my address?" “Let's break the bed! Rock this dead girl walking!” "I think you tore my mattress!" “No sleep tonight for you Better chug that Mountain Dew!” "Okay, okay" “Get your ass in gear Make this whole town disappear” "Okay, okay!" “Slap me, pull my hair Touch me There and there and there And no more talking!” We do exactly how we did it the first time in rehearsals. The second Sweet Pea tugs at my top to open it, there’s loud uproar in the audience and cheers coming from the wings too. It only charges my confidence to nail those last high notes and belts. “Whoa! Love this dead girl walking!” For the rest of the first half of the show, I don’t trip over any lines and don’t forget any. Having Sweet Pea by my side almost constantly calms my nerves down. And the extreme uproar my top coming undone caused powered my confidence for the rest of the show. The only disadvantage to all of this, is that I realize I want to be with Sweet Pea all the time. And be with him. As in be his, kiss him without it being a scene, hold his hand, hug him. I want to be able to kiss him like he kissed me in the dressing room just moments before the show started. “You did great, Y/N!” Sweet Pea tells me at the start of the interval. “I can’t do this, Noah. Either we have to be together or I don’t want to see you anymore after tonight,” I tell him, and look in his eyes to find an answer. I only see confusion and sadness. Nothing that even indicates he wants the same. “Just, don’t make it harder than it already is,” I say before turning around and getting to my dressing room. “Are you okay?” Betty asks when she sees the tears running down my cheeks. All three of the girls rush towards me when her question just makes me break down more, and they embrace me as if they’re protecting me from something. “He doesn’t want to be with me,” I sob out. One of the girls rubs my back soothingly. “What makes you think that?” Cheryl asks, knowing exactly who I’m talking about. I think everyone knows who I’m talking about. It was probably very obvious what was happening. They probably knew before I did. “That boy is crazy about you.” “I told him I either want to be with him or I don’t ever want to see him again after tonight, and he just stood there with that sheepish smile as if he felt sorry for me,” I manage to bring out between ugly sobs. The girls only wrap their arms tighter around me. “Did he actually say that he felt sorry for you or that he didn’t want to be with you?” Veronica asks me, her voice soft and soothing. “No…” I trail off, “But I mean… It was pretty much written all over his face.” I wipe at my tears, knowing all too well I’ll have to redo my makeup after I’ve stopped sobbing. “I think you ought to talk to him,” Betty says, “Like Cheryl said, the boy’s crazy about you. It would surprise me he’d say something like that.” The blonde girl then cups my cheeks and tilts my head, so I’m looking directly at her. “Here’s what you’re going to do, you’re going to rock the second half of this show as Veronica Sawyer because, girl, there’s no one else who could play her better than you. Then after the show, you go talk to Sweet Pea and become the happy couple you’re supposed to be.” “But he told me before right now is bad timing. We agreed not to date since it was bad timing,” I explain, remembering our conversation at Pop’s. “But you changed your mind, didn’t you?” Cheryl asks, her eyebrows raised in hopes I would catch on. “So, maybe he changed his mind too?” The realization begins to sink in that I might have been a little rash into deciding he doesn’t want the same as me. I should’ve let him talk instead of trying to find the answer in his eyes. “You might be right,” I say and wipe the last tears away, “I’ll talk to him after the show.” I nod my head determinedly and the girls let go of me. “Yeah, you better blow him up first before talking to him,” Veronica jokes, making all of us chuckle a little. This musical is crazy. I knew it was when I saw it off-Broadway and when I saw the 80’s movie a few years ago. But I love it, nonetheless. “Let’s fix this make-up first,” Betty then suggests. Cheryl guides me to the chair in front of my mirror and they begin redoing my make-up for me. We chat about how great the first half of the show was and how much they loved that Sweet Pea and I did what we did in rehearsals during Dead Girl Walking. I bet them and Margot, Ella and Jodi were the ones cheering in the wings. Maybe all of them did, I’m not entirely sure. “Break a leg!” Betty says to me when we’re back in the wings after the interval. Then, Kevin gives us our cue to go on. It’s just me and Sweet Pea now, just before Ram and Kurt’s funeral. “There’s been a lack of girls climbing through my bedroom window lately,” Sweet Pea says after I’d sung a different version of Seventeen, which is a song we still have to sing and to say I’m nervous about it is, yet again, an understatement. “Take a hint,” I reply, clearly upset about the fact we killed Heather Chandler and the two jocks now. “Okay, you’re mad, I get it.” He walks closer to me until he’s in the spot that’s focused on me, mostly. “No, I don’t think you do. “Ich luge” bullets? You lied to me.” “You were lying to yourself, you wanted them dead too.” “Did not!” “Did too!” “Did not!” We’re arguing like little children until Sweet Pea raises his hands in defense. “Hey! Did they make you cry?” he then asks when he’s mere inches away from me. “Yes,” I respond, furrowing my eyebrows. “Can they make you cry now?” he gives me a suggestive look like JD would’ve done. “No, but you can,” and you did – but that has nothing to do with this musical. “Just wait until you see the good that comes of this.” I turn to face the audience, looking over each of the attendants’ heads as to not get distracted by my parents sitting there or the other jocks or anyone else. “No, nothing good could possibly come of this,” I tell him, wagging my finger without looking at him. “Call me an optimist,” he raises his arms sideways. And then I get to say one of my favorite lines from the movie, “Dear diary; my teen-angst bullshit has a body count.” The audience laughs as church music is played through the speakers. Sweet Pea grabs my hand and leads me towards the benches that were placed while the others come onto the stage too for the funeral scene. During this scene, I only have to sing back-up vocals for Dead Gay Son, and it gives me the time to think of some other stuff. Like the lines I’ll have to say after this or what I’m going to say to Sweet Pea when all this is over. Before I know it, the funeral scene is over and it’s Sweet Pea and me all alone again. For a while I go on automatic pilot with my lines until the volume of his voice grows and startles me. “Evil fucks that make life so unbearable that you can’t even stand to live in the world anymore?!” “JD?” He looks at me, and I pause for a moment to think or to pretend to think because I know my line. “How did your mother die?” I then ask. Sweet Pea stares at me for a second, then, in frustration, rubs hand over his chin. “You really want to know?” “Yeah,” I reply because I have to. “My dad said it was an accident. But she knew what she was doing,” he steps forward, “She stepped into that building two minutes before dad blew it up. She waved at me out the window and then…” he imitates an explosion with his hands whilst saying, “Ka-boom…” I heave in a deep breath and then sniffle as if I’m crying. “I’m so sorry. I—” but he interrupts me with his next line. “It’s okay. The pain gives me clarity,” then his voice grows louder again, “You and I are special, we have a lot of work to do.” “What work?” I ask, my voice breaking. “Making the world decent for people who are decent!” he shouts again, making me flinch slightly. “When does it end?” I ask as I walk up to him, but then he leans forward and his voice is so loud that it even scares me a little, even though I know this is supposed to happen. “When every asshole is dead!” he screams it right in my face. I flinch a little, but then push him away in pure frustration and anger. The music for Seventeen starting makes it even more dramatic. “Fine, we're damaged Really damaged But that does not make us wise We're not special, we're not different We don't choose who lives or dies” My voice sounds angry and a little gravely, but it makes the song even better somehow. For the next verse, I sing a little softer, making my voice sound more tender. “Let's be normal, see bad movies Sneak a beer and watch tv We'll bake brownies or go bowling Don't you want a life with me?” Sweet Pea still doesn’t look at me. He just stands on the other side of the stage, staring into the audience angrily with the most intimidating scowl on his face I have ever seen. “Can’t we be seventeen? That's all I want to do If you could let me in I could be good with you” “People hurt us” “Or they vanish,” Sweet Pea sings. “And you're right that really blows But we let go,” then Sweet Pea adds, “take a deep breath” “Then go buy some summer clothes We'll go camping” “Play some poker” I chuckle a little when he finally looks at me. “And we'll eat some chilli fries Maybe prom night” “Maybe dancing” “Don’t stop looking in my eyes” “Your eyes,” Sweet Pea echoes. The scowl on his face has been exchanged for a sad puppy face that nearly makes me cry. I reach my hand out for him to coax him to come closer to me as we sing the chorus together, our voices blending perfectly. “Can we be seventeen Is that so hard to do?” He carefully inches closer and closer. “If you could let me in I could be good with you” He finally takes my hand in his and pulls me a little closer, taking my other hand too. “Let us be seventeen If we still got the right” I let go of one hand and cup his cheek with his as I sing the next line. “So what's it gonna be I wanna be with you” “Wanna be with you” he echoes, and I almost believe him singing it to me instead of JD to Veronica. “I wanna be with you tonight” We belt out the note together, and then he pulls me in for the scripted kiss whilst the music still blares. I pull away from him – even though I don’t want to – when it’s my cue to sing. “Yeah we're damaged,” “Badly damaged” “But your love's too good to lose” our voices blend together again. I then step closer, wrapping my arms around his bicep, pressing my cheek against his shoulder while facing the audience. “Hold me tighter” “Even closer” he wraps his other arm around me. It feels so good and so natural to do this. “I'll stay if I'm what you choose” We then alternate between lines. Our voices soft and vulnerable.   “Can we be seventeen?” “If I am what you choose” “If we still got the right” “’cause you're the one I choose” I get out of his grip and turn back to the spot I was in before, facing him. Now, I can look in his eyes properly. They’re finally telling me the truth. Sweet Pea’s truth, not JD’s. Sweet Pea’s. He means the words as Sweet Pea to me.  Not as JD to Veronica. “You're the one I choose” “You're the one I choose,” we sing the last line together. His eyes dart from my eyes to my lips, and even though I know we have to kiss according to the script, I feel like he actually can’t wait to kiss me. And then he does. His lips curl up into a tender smile first before he places them on mine, gently. I almost forget the show must go on and the next scene is one we’re in too. I mean, we’re Veronica and JD, we’re in pretty much every scene. The end of the show comes sooner than I think. We’re already on the reprisal of Seventeen. It’s a bit bittersweet. I loved doing this musical and playing this part more than anything, but I’ll also be glad it’s over because then I can finally talk to Sweet Pea. “I meant every word I sang during Seventeen, Y/N. I want to be with you,” he tells me in a rush when I run into the wings after the last song. But now, we all still have to go on for the bows. “I want to be with you too,” I tell him with a little smile tugging at my lips. He then leans down and plants his lips on mine. It still feels the same it did when he kissed me in the dressing room or when we kissed on stage. That was never a stage kiss. “As much as I love this, guys,” Evelyn’s voice makes us break up, “You’re almost up for the bows!” I peck Sweet Pea’s lips quickly before running to the other side of the stage where I need to run up for my bows. First it’s Sweet Pea, and I watch him as he waves and then takes his bow. He begins clapping as I run up, a proud smile on his face. I bow and wave at the crowd before Sweet Pea grabs my hand and we bow together once. We then join the others and bow together twice until the music speeds up again and all of us begin dancing like crazy. Veronica and Betty run up to me and hug me sideways, each of them flanking me. I wrap my arms around them too and kiss Betty on the head. They then let go as we lapse into a chorus of “Beautiful” as it’s kind of part of the reprisal of Seventeen still. When the music dies down and all that’s heard is the audience’s applause, Sweet Pea grabs my hand and pulls me towards him, dipping me down to kiss me passionately. I faintly hear cheers, but I can’t focus much on that. All I’m focusing on is Sweet Pea and his tender, warm lips on mine. It is a beautiful freakin’ day.

[nobody-wants-ice-cream]

Everything Wrong With The Umbrella Academy. Episode 6, The Day That Wasn’t.

We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals

Run Boy Run

Extra Ordinary

Man on the Moon

Number Five

Disclaimer: This is all in good fun! I wanted to do a really nitpicky re-watch of the series and found some really cool and interesting things I didn’t notice before. This is meant to have a Cinema Sins-esque tone. However, I did take off a lot more sins than Cinema Sins would have because I do genuinely like the series and the people that made it possible. So all of the good things got one sin off and all the bad things got one sin added. This is a really long post, so grab some popcorn. If there’s anything that I missed, feel free to add it!

I would also like to add that normally you wouldn’t watch a show this way. I am purposefully looking for mistakes, easter eggs, and other things that we’re not supposed to notice. I am watching not with the goal of entertainment, but for analysis. So most of the things that I sin, I am seeing for the first time.

Also, no I can’t do better. I am in no way qualified to give this level of criticism about anything. 

[Today we got the s2 release date!! I am so excited. To answer any questions about that, I will probably do a season 2 version of this a year after it comes out. Since some of my sins involve fandom and any fic tropes/theories we might come up with, I want to make sure that has time to happen.]

The Day that Wasn’t 

Only Dave notices Klaus coming to Vietnam via briefcase. The flashing blue lights and loud “oof!” isn’t loud enough to wake anyone else up. +1

Cody Ray Thompson’s workout routine. -1

“Katz” isn’t a fandom thing! The dude that is yelling at all the soldiers and Klaus to get ready (some sort of commanding officer?) calls Dave “Katz”! -1

Klaus is so confused that he just puts the pants on without really questioning it. What the fuck was going on in Klaus’s head? +1

Where is Ben? +1

Right where I’m paused Klaus’s face is hilarious. “It was at this moment Klaus knew. He fucked up” -1

The Power of Boners is what keeps Klaus in the fucking Vietnam War. +1

For all future Dave sins, I am calling it The Power of Boners because Dave gets one line. As soon as the show corrects this and shows us why Dave was so wonderful, these remain sins. Sin for the show for not providing more Dave content. +1

Overly saturated forigen country cliche. +1

Seriously, why is Vietnam so orange? +1

The Doors. -1

This one shot in the foreground of the girl with white boots. I want those boots so badly. Costume people, where did you get them? Sin until I know, damnit! +1

Cool white boots are cool. -1

Klaus’s dance moves. -1

Klave. -1

Scene does not contain a lap dance. +1

Or any other indication that Dave and Klaus didn’t just make out once and decided to remain friends. Please give me more Klave content show. If anything, just to flesh out this character who motivates Klaus for half of the season. +1

Luther barges in on people in the bathroom. He has six siblings! Anyone with at least one sibling knows that barging in on people in bathrooms is a shitty move. Heh, shitty move, bathroom, get it? +1

Klaus’s face when Luther deadpans “the world’s ending in three days”. It’s the face of someone who completely forgot about that since he’s been in the 60s for ten months. -1

Also, the way Luther tells Klaus “the world’s ending in three days” is the same way I might tell my brother that it’s time for dinner. +1

“Five’s a little- [coo coo whistle]” Emmy Raver-Lampman kills this line. -1

Luther’s face when Allison asks “what did Five even see?” brings me so much joy. That is the look of complete panic. Love that. -1

Luther can’t lie for shit. Checks out. -1

Anyone with siblings can relate to Diego, Allison, and Klaus’s reaction to this bull. -1

The dramatic music leading into the little “we died” followed by a sip of coffee. Priceless. -1

Title umbrella scares the shit out of Klaus! -1

Comic power foreshadowing? Sin until we get answers. +1

Foreshadowing that Five is in HQ by sending orders that don’t follow the same format as the rest of the ones on the shoe. Fiveshaddowing? -1

Kate Walsh plays an excellent villain. Part of that evil demeanor is getting all up in Five’s personal bubble. This is the closest Five has been to someone in the entire show without any injury or being drunk. -1

The Handler is creepy. +2

Five makes demands after setting foot in the building for less than one minute. +1

The masks from the comics are on the wall in the briefcase room. -1

Based on the two agents we see in the briefcase room and Hazel and Cha Cha, the uniform of the commission assassin is a blue suit, yet all of Five’s are grey or black like management. Inconsistency. +1

Typewriters. I hate those things. +1

I think Aidan Gallagher forgot what he was doing in this scene. His expression doesn’t look like Five, it looks like some kid who is letting a math lecture wash over them. You could make the argument that Five is sort of letting this wash over him too, but I would call bullshit. Five knows how dangerous of a situation he’s in right now. He shouldn’t look this calm. +1

The Handler touching Five’s face. +3

Dot has the “i’m in danger” expression when meeting Five because Dot let Five live in hell for 45 years. Five also looks like he wants to kill her. Great acting, Patrice Goodman. -1

Five’s expression when Dot says “No hard feelings” brings me so much joy. And fear. -1

The Handler makes Five the teacher’s pet on his first day by calling him leadership material in front of his new coworkers. +1

Kate Walsh was temporarily directed by Tim Burton for this scene. +1

That weird look one of the commission management people gives Five once Five sits down and starts working. I don’t like it, I don’t like it! +1

The Hargreeves mansion looks really fucking chaotic on the roof. I don’t like it. +1

Leonard’s face at finally being allowed inside the Hargreeves mansion. Just the right dose of satisfied and creepy. Well done, John Magaro. -1

Leonard is raising so many red flags that he may as well be a stop sign. +1

Umbrella Academy action figures. Oh, Reggie. +1

Luther has to explain that everyone in the whole world dies and not just them. The Umbrella Academy School of Delayed Reactions due to Stupidity was too long of a name so Reggie shortened it to The Umbrella Academy. +1

Allison’s right, Vanya isn’t being fair. However, Allison isn’t specific about how Vanya is family but Leonard is not. Sin for both of them for being dumb as hell. +2

“I’m gonna go find Vanya” “There isn’t time, we need to figure out what causes the apocalypse” irony. +1

“Nuclear war” cited as one of the possible causes of the apocalypse. Comics fans, enjoy this sin off. -1

“But I’m thinking this is about the Moon, right?” well yeah, but not for the reasons you think. Foreshadowing the moon. -1

That creepy portrait of Five behind Diego. No, not the big one, the other one by the bar. What the fuck, Reggie? +1

Leonard steals the action figure of The Monocle (reggie for those who don’t know the comics), which symbolizes the way Leonard feels he is controlling the Academy through Vanya. -1

Leonard is creepy. +1

Ben doesn’t realize that Klaus is going through withdrawal despite seeing it the day before. Sure, Ben could have been more focused on the tourture, but because Ben points out Klaus’s withdrawal by name in Man on the Moon, we can assume he noticed and that this is a continuity error. +1

Vanya’s powers affecting the world around her as soon as she is a safe distance away from the academy because reasons. Seriously, there should have been at least something while she was confronting her siblings. Show plays fast and loose with the rules of Vanya’s powers. +1

“If you tie me up after.” “Come again?” Diego and Klaus have the most sibling like relationship on this entire show. -1

Klaus’s Diego impression. -1

Excessive use of the word “bro”. One sin for every time I have to hear it in this scene. +2

“Mr. Five”. Is Five’s first name “Number” or did he not give the Commission any other name? Does this imply that he doesn’t go by Five Hargreeves? +1

This is one of the few scenes where Aidan Gallagher no longer looks like Aidan Gallagher and instead looks like Five. Acting. -1

Dot is really trying to get murdered. Don’t engage the man you put through hell for almost fifty years, moron. +1

The Handler has nothing better to do than to stalk Five. Does this lady have a job or did she take the day off specifically for this? What was she doing in the tube room?+1

The origin of “deadly little thing” is fucking Gloria? Really, fandom? +1

Five is too good of an actor. I understand why Aidan Gallagher might make some of these choices as an actor but I don’t understand how a man who grew up alone in the apocalypse can act this well. +1

The Handler keeps singling Five out in front of his coworkers. +1

The Handler’s arm around Five’s shoulders. +1

Creepy dude is back. I’m not even going to try and look up this guy’s name, but the expression suggests something I don’t want to think about. +1

Creepy guy’s name is Herb. Of course it is. +1

The file Five picks up just has a smiley face inside of it, which suggests that the Handler put it there as a red herring. Nice touch, show. -1

Gender neutral bathrooms. -1

Five’s expression when the Handler continues talking to him as she is peeing. -1

The Handler talks to Five while peeing. Gross. +2

His expression when she starts coughing is so funny. -1

Rugae +1

The Handler peeks over the door of the bathroom stall. +10

Cha Cha says, “Sure, shoot” when Hazel asks if he can ask her a question. +1

Where did the gunshot come from if Cha Cha didn’t shoot Hazel? I get they’re using it to make us think that she did, but there is no other explanation for the noise. +1

Luther frantically searching for his moon research makes me very sad. +1

Also, I’m kind of bored with this episode at this point. It’s such a low episode with the only interesting parts that make me as excited as the last episode Number Five, being the Commission parts. Everything else is kind of boring. Pick up the pace, show. +1

Reggie is a dick to Luther. +7

Luther looks so lost and broken and sad. I’m sad. Fuck you, Reggie. +1

Why the fuck was Luther carrying an axe?? +2

And rope?? +2

When and where did Luther find the time and money to get the engraved gold locket for Allison? This interaction is so full of plot holes and stupidity. +1

However, Cameron Brodeur and Eden Cupid do well with this dumb writing. -1

Seriously, who wrote this scene? The fact that I can’t bring myself to care about what is going on right now says a lot. +1

Reggie jump scare. +1

Cliche record scratch. How did that happen? Did Luther or Allison bump into it? Sin for lack of clarity and for destroying a record. +1

“Fun and games are restricted to Saturdays between noon and half past noon” Reggie is a dick to his children. +7

Klaus and Diego bonding. Literally? -1

Ben is in this scene! -1

I forgot how weird the soundtrack is for this scene. It’s too ominous. Scoring is important. +1

“Dave must have been a very special person to put up with all your weird-ass shit.” -1

“He was kind and strong and vulnerable and beautiful” that’s great, show. Why don’t you show us that instead of having Klaus say it. Just once scene where Dave shows these qualities so that he’s a real person instead of someone created to drive Klaus’s storyline? Please? +1

I feel really bad for Ben in this scene. From Ben’s perspective, he wasn’t good enough to motivate Klaus to get sober, but this random guy was. Ben angst. +1

Also, Justin Min manages to convey this without any lines. Major props. That takes some serious skill. -2

Bro. +1

“Everyone I like is already dead”. Fridging. +1

I can’t tell if this is Ben walking away or if this is the transition between Diego and Klaus’s point of views. If this is meant to imply the pov switch, It would have been easier to have Ben disappear from the same spot. If it’s Ben walking away because he can’t take being told that he isn’t good enough to get sober for, Ben angst. Either way, it’s a sin. +1

“Aww shit! I need to pee.” Diego’s expression is amazing. -1

“If this [having powers] is even true, everything I know about myself would be different.” That is Vanya’s storyline in a nutshell. This line is really underrated. -1

All of Leonard’s lines point towards the book. All of them. Which makes total sense. -1

Vanya is starting to show more sass and personality because the pills are gone. I wish fanfic writers would explore this. Including myself, I am sinning fanfic writers for not taking into account how cool Vanya is without the meds. +1

“I’m sorry you got stuck with the ordinary one” See! +1

“Ordinary” This word keeps coming up. Probably because of the whole rumor situation that we’re not supposed to know about yet. Rewatches are fun. -1

“My life is so weird” “I like weird”. And if you weren’t such a colossal creep, Leonard/Harold, I would like you too. This line is super sweet. Sin for manipulation. +1

Ellen Page isn’t my girlfriend. Have you seen this scene recently? She looks so cute/hot/beautiful here. +1

No transition, just straight from Leonard and Vanya kissing to The Handler slurping her smoothie. It’s jarring. +1

I want to know why they decided that killing Archduke Ferdinand would start World War I. Noodle incident. +1

“I had a bad Twinkie in the apocalypse once. Kinda put me off desserts.” Yet you still ate the fluffernutter sandwich, Five? +1

The Handler’s office is really cool. Once again, set designers you win this one. -1

Why would Five go straight for a decade instead of a flavor? How does something taste like the 1950s before it tastes like a popular candy from the time for example? +1

The suit is blue like the rest of the time travel assassins have. This suggests a uniform that the Commission didn’t make Five wear before, and suggests a sort of power play. Details. -1

The Handler is a fucking creep. +1

“M26 grenades from the Vietnam war”. This is the comment that sparked the theory that the Commission killed Dave. I want answers. +1

The candy that tastes like the 50s is really chewy. Why is Five still chewing it? +1

The Handler gives Five a pistol and he doesn’t immediately shoot her, which suggests that the pistol is empty. So why was the grenade still operational if the other weapons were not? You would think she would make sure that the grenades couldn’t be used against her. +1

The Handler is a fucking creep. I think Aidan Gallagher was a little uncomfortable in this scene. The look in his eyes isn’t something you can fake. +1

Kate Walsh is an awesome actress. -1

Out of all the candies in the bowl, Five conveniently takes one that is an actual candy and one that is a tracker. +1

So I want to talk about Luther. I think the show did him a great disservice by setting up his story this way. Compared to the Commission stuff, Luther’s story arc doesn’t seem important, hence the “Dad sent me to the Moon” jokes. If this was in a better order, then maybe the fandom would like Luther more. Not that I know what that order should have been, but it definitely shouldn’t have been this one. This whole episode seems kind of disorganized and Luther’s character suffers for it. After this sin, I’m going to shut up about it, so I’ll just add a few and move on. +5

“Four years of my life. A lie” “What an asshole” That’s a bit of an understatement, Allison. Seriously, this Moon research has got to have some value to it. Luther was studying the moon for four fucking years. Who knows what kind of crazy shit he could have found out about the moon’s atmosphere and what the Earth was like when the moon split from it. Those soil samples would tell us a lot about what the developing planet Earth was like. Luther’s moon research is important scientific material. And Reggie just locked it away. +3

This scene is excellent independently. Tom Hopper and Emmy Raver-Lampman play off each other extremely well. -1

“Can I show you something?” +1

The tools in the greenhouse have not moved in seventeen years. +1

And neither has the dust free record player. +1

Two cans of generic cola from seventeen years ago. And these two morons drink them. The family brain cell is dying. +1

This is such a sibling moment. Trying to do something nice and then it all goes up in flames? Sibling. Culture. -1

You know what isn’t sibling culture? The fucking locket. +3

This is a really human moment for Cha Cha. Burning the note shows that deep down, she cares about Hazel. -1

However, I don’t understand why she’s so pissed about Agnes. Is the show trying to ship Hazel and Cha Cha? Because that would be a stretch and I really don’t see it. +1

Klaus asking for one last hit is believable. Diego’s reaction is really good too. Well done. -1

Klaus’s ptsd. Putting my boy through trauma. +1

The wound on Dave’s chest has to be an exit wound. He was behind the barrier, so there’s no way he could have been shot from the front by the enemy. Someone (like a Commission agent) shot him from the back. So I guess we sort of got answers? I’m going to sin this until we know for sure. +1

Klaus is distraught. My poor boy. +1

Why is the chandelier still on the ground? You would think somebody would have attempted to pick that up at this point, right? It’s been two days. +1

Grace’s more relaxed hairstyle shows that she isn’t under Reggie’s strict control anymore. The tight pin curls are now replaced by gorgeous waves. Symbolism, well done hair stylist. -1

Grace lies because Pogo is standing behind Diego. Otherwise, I think she would have told him the truth right then and there. Secrets. +1

Yo, @ Luther. Who the fuck eats a hot dog like that? +1

Also, it was bright daylight when Diego was talking to Grace and now it’s pitch black out. What happened in those hours? +1

Talking about their regrets, Allison says “we can’t go back”. Insert every season 2 headcanon and the whole “Where are they?” tag line from the season 2 promos. +1

Allison attempts to see the silver lining of child abuse. This works and is a valid coping mechanism that I think is totally in character. Well done, writers. -1

The kiss on the cheek is very “this is the last time I will see my sibling whom I love very dearly and who also loves me for me”. This should have been it for Allison and Luther kissing because it’s a really good moment. -1

I love the dancing in the moonlight scene because it’s a reference to something from the comics. -1

The choreography is really, really good. Emma Portner fucking rules. -1

And I love the earrings that Allison is wearing. No joke, someone please tell me where I can find them, they’re adorable and I would love to have them. -1

However, the show made us see two sibling characters kiss. In a very romantic way. +15

And it’s very clear that this kiss happens outside of the fantasy too. +15

Also, without the lights and the music, were Allison and Luther just two weirdos dancing in the park to nothing? +1

The transition to get back to the Commission is really good. -1

“Gloria. The Handler knows that Five is up to something. Get this to Hazel and Cha Cha immediately.” Was the extra info about Five necessary? I feel like a regular person wouldn’t say that. +1

Gloria doesn’t know who the second best assassins are. +1

Five gets that stapler out of nowhere. This goes back to his unexplained power from episode 1, but now the question is: Is this switching power stapler based? +1

Five’s expression when he finally gets the name of the man who will cause the apocalypse. -1

And now we know the origin of the terminate Hazel message. Five, you clever bastard. -1

Did we see the terminate Cha Cha message before this? I can’t remember. If we didn’t then it’s a great reveal. If we did, then I didn’t care enough to pay attention. [I looked back] We didn’t. Great reveal. -1

Five, hide your bodies better so they don’t start waking up for comedic timing. +1

The comedic timing of Gloria waking back up. -1

“You’re a first rate pragmatist!” no he’s not. Have you been paying attention to Five’s character at all, Handler? If he was, then he never would have broken his contract because he was safe in the Commission.+1

Also, this is what a lot of fanfic writers base Five off of. Not his actual character, this fucking line. Sin for the fandom. +1

Why did they have to split up this scene? The Handler just attempted to shoot Five and now we’re supposed to care about Mom and Diego?? +1

Grace finally gets to tell the truth! Sin for Pogo and Reggie for forcing her to lie. +1

The truth. -1

The Commission desk people do care about Gloria. Caring. -1

Vanya finding Reggies book. This could have been the original trigger to the apocalypse in the first timeline. I want answers. How did it go down originally? +1

Dave! -1

“I do owe a debt. But it’s not to you.” This is one of those lines that will be referenced in a future season. “See, [this character and/or relationship] was referenced in season 1” or something like that. This is my favorite Five line, too. -2

Five once again stands too close to an explosion. Fuckin’ run, dude! +1

The ending of this episode reminds me of the “and it was all just a dream” ending that 5th graders write. Nothing in this episode has any consequences. +3

And I am adding back the sins I took off and then some for the important bits like Diego and Klaus bonding, Grace telling Diego all the secrets, and Klaus seeing Dave. +4

Wednesday. 8:15 A.M. (...again). The time stamp is pretty good though. -1

“What gives us a win this time?” And then Five appears. -1

Five snatches Allison’s coffee. And he should be bleeding from the shrapnel wound. +2

Allison’s face when Five snatches her coffee. -1

Diego, Luther, Klaus, and Allison are all watching Five stumble weird and chug Allison’s coffee with the funniest expressions. I want to know what they were thinking. Ya know, beyond “What the Fuck?”. +1

Those expressions, though. -1

“So if y’all don’t get your sideshow acts together” Five this whole season has been you saving the world and everyone else as a sideshow act. That’s gonna take a lot more effort than saving the world. +1

Aidan Gallagher fucking nails this scene. Expletive required. This is why I respect him as an actor. This scene would have been so easy to over act, but he kills this monologue.  -5

If you look closely at Five’s hair, it looks sort of like the triangular shape from the comics. I can’t tell if that was intentional, but it was a good detail. Hair department. -1

“Who the hell is Harold Jenkins” followed by a coffee slurp. That is how they end the episode? Really? It would have been stronger without the coffee. +1

Season 2 comes out on July 31, 2020! I got the announcement just as I was finishing this episode! I’ll take off a sin because we finally know! Whoop!! -1

Overall review:

After the powerhouse that is episode 5, this episode feels odd and out of place. My favorite parts were the Commission parts, and everything else felt like an interruption. Even more so when you consider that the commission parts are the only parts of the episode that actually happened. Sure, it’s great character building, but without any consequences, it feels cheap. I feel like I’ve said everything I needed to say, so I won’t get crazy with the analysis. I would say more if anything in this episode actually mattered. 

Total: 112

Sentence: The Umbrella Academy of Reacting to things Slowly due to Stupidity. Say that 10 times fast. Then I will undo all your hard work through the power of time travel. Seriously, fuck this ending. 

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

‘always and forever, lara jean’: a bungled mess of my thoughts while watching the movie

Alright, cards on the table: I never finished reading the book. I got bored a couple of pages in, so I just read up the summary on Wikipedia and called it a day.

Not gonna lie, I expected better from the movies. I loved the first movie; it was cute, it was fun, it hit all the right places. The second movie was… eh. Jordan Fisher is cute, so that’s a plus.

And then we got the third movie; the final in the To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before trilogy.

And it was somehow even worse.

Maybe I’m exaggerating. Despite its shortcomings in the plot and character development-related departments (the fact that Lara Jean wrote addresses for letters she never meant to send is something that will bother me on my deathbed), the movies have their merits. They’re cutesy and charming and enjoyable, overall; movie-LJ is sweet and unashamedly a girly-girl, which is a refreshing change from the #NotLikeOtherGirls, pick-me girls and bruh girls we had in loads of other YA movies growing up. Peter’s pretty cute, too; he’s not a possessive freak like so many other love interests (The Kissing Booth, After, Anna and the French Kiss), and his and Lara Jean’s dynamic is cute, too. Not to mention- we finally have an Asian lead whose Asian-ness isn’t the whole focus of the story!

Again, maybe I’m being extra with all this. The series is, at its core, solely for entertainment purposes. Not every piece of media has to have an underlying message and you shouldn’t need to read between every goddamn line to find something worthy of enjoying. They’re certainly helpful for whiling away a couple of hours; perfect for bingeing with a pint of ice cream in hand, and all of this is in good fun.

Also, it goes without saying, but: spoilers ahead.

The film beings with Lara Jean scribbling a postcard to Peter while she’s in Korea with her family. The inclusion of that little snapshot of Asian culture made me so happy- seriously, fuck everyone who says diversity in media doesn’t matter. I’m not even Korean, and I was overjoyed at seeing a couple of scenes just from the same continent I’m on. The K-pop music in the background was a fun touch, too (although all Korean music isn’t K-pop, but that’s a rant for another day).

(Also: Blackpink has so many more suitable songs than Pretty Savage that go with the theme of the movies. Kill This Love in the second movie while Lara Jean is getting ready to go to her boyfriend’s match is bad enough- they’re supposed to be in love in that scene, goddammit.)

One thing that bothered me throughout the movies is how obviously non-Korean Lara Jean and Margot look. It’s like whoever chose the cast went for any random Asian- Lana’s Vietnamese and Janel Parrish is half-Chinese, and it’s so obvious. You seriously couldn’t find two Korean-Americans who even vaguely resembled each other so they could pass for sisters? The actresses do a stunning job and I don’t want to shit on them, but I just wish they didn’t go with the ‘all Asians look the same, what’s the difference?’ mindset.

Also, a nitpicky thing I’ve noticed in movies with characters who read a lot: no one holds their books up while they’re reading. Your arms start to cramp, which is why you keep your book in your lap while you’re reading, or you rest on your belly and hold the book in front of you. My spine and shoulders didn’t suffer years of torture as a chronic reader for you to include characters who hold their books up while reading.

A major gripe I have with Always and Forever, Lara Jean is how the characters are almost jarringly out of character- not from the books, but from the two previous movies, too. Lara Jean didn’t have much of a character to begin with, so I can’t say much about her (she dissed Oasis at one point; it’s okay for me to be mean to her), but the rest of them are either caricatures of themselves or just totally different people.

Movie Peter >>> Book Peter. He’s almost too perfect (except for the fact that he unironically loves The Fast and the Furious, which… ew), almost too much of the ideal boyfriend. Not that my perpetually single arse would know. How do boyfriends even work? I wouldn’t know the first thing to do with one; how often should you feed it? Do you need to take it on walks?

(In the notes I’ve written towards the end of the film, I’ve complained about Peter being immature and making Lara Jean feel bad about following her dream to go to NYU. He confuses me.)

Not to mention how distractingly adorable Noah Centineo is from some angles and under certain lighting conditions (other times, he reminds me of the human version of Shrek and that bothered me). King of weird Tweets and Instagram captions though he may be, he’s got a really nice smile, and his gravelly voice is both parts sexy and disturbing.

But I digress.

I’ll never forgive the directors for what they did to Kitty and Chris- two of my favorite characters, from both the books and the movies. Kitty’s annoying to the point of being borderline unlikeable- gone is the occasionally snarky comic relief we all came to love; in her place is an annoying brat whose every line comes out forced. Also, making soap is fun; fuck you, Kitty.

Chris is essentially Dixie D’Amelio’s character from that TikToker Grey’s Anatomy ripoff; the main character in One Direction fanfiction from 2012 who doesn’t want to go to the concert but her best friend gets a ticket for her so she can’t bail but Harry Styles sees her in the crowd and falls in love at first sight and 50k of mutual pining and misunderstandings late, they get together. She’s cynical and snarky and hates capitalism and consumerism and prom (because of course she does), but secretly, she’s into it (because of course she is). My guess is that she’s there to appease all the arseholes (including myself) who accused the characters of being too one-dimensional, but it seems too out of place in a movie that doesn’t have much plot to begin with.

I really, really hate how Lucas was done dirty- throughout every single movie. Of course, it’s Lara Jean’s story so not every side character has to be fully fleshed out- but you’d think three. entire. movies. would be enough to give Lucas a bigger role than the GBF and the token black guy for the diversity brownie points. Every single time Lucas shows up, it’s to push Lara Jean and Peter’s story forward. I would’ve liked to see a romance for him pushed forward instead one for Chris- especially because he says, at one point in a previous movie, that it’s hard to find other gay boys, so it would’ve been sweet to see him find love- and Chris’s character arc could’ve been focused on reconciling with Genevieve. Instead, we see the OG Reggie from Riverdale be the one to show Chris the bright side of monogamy, and Lucas gets a date to prom as an afterthought (another darkskin black dude, so no one thinks the film is racist).

Genevieve’s character in this movie gives me whiplash. Look, I’m all for girls supporting girls- healthy female relationships are something way too many YA movies lack- but she goes from bitch queen extraordinaire to friendly the moment the next scene calls for it. Her character isn’t consistent. A redemption arc should be executed cleanly and believably; you can’t have a character be a total prick one moment and then suddenly be, “Hey, if you get into NYU, let me know,” the next.

And Genevieve’s still an arsehole to Chris; at one point, in NYC, while they’re at the NYU campus grounds (I knew that Lara Jean was going to go to NYU the moment she saw all the banners; I fucking called it), Genevieve tells Chris, “University is for people who actually have a future,” and I recoiled. I’m not the nicest of people and yet that was going too far. Chris doesn’t hesitate to shoot back a, “You peaked in high school,”, but still. Y i k e s. You can’t convince me someone’s turned over a new leaf when they say something like that.

Lara Jean’s dad (forgot his name; gonna call him Dr. Covey) is as unremarkable as ever, and his new wife (forgot her name, too… Trisha? Trina? Eh, something like that) is… unsettling. I mean, I get that they’re all loved up and twitterpatted, but there’s something about all the smiling they’ve got going on that chills me to the bone.

Also, Trisha/Trina kinda looks like TikTok’s ThatVeganTeacher and it bothers me.

Another huge problem with this movie even being made is that the series never had enough plot to continue onto a trilogy. Lara Jean’s letters are what the plots of the first and second movies revolve around; the third only mentions them in passing. The final love letter from Peter was a cute callback, but there’s a massive continuity issue with the first two movies and this last one- both character and plot-wise.

Maybe I’m not articulating this clearly enough, so I’ll use an example: take Harry Potter, for example. Harry’s main goal throughout the series is defeating Voldemort. And it takes all seven books for him to get there, to finally achieve this.

Lara Jean’s goal in the first movie changes midway; from keeping up the façade with Peter so she can avoid the crap with the rest of the letters getting out, to making her fake relationship real. It forms a bridge with the second movie; the letter that went out to John Ambrose, and her dithering between Peter and perfection (I’m not sorry). But what does the third movie have to do with any of this?

There were way too many music montages. You couldn’t go five minutes without a random pop song playing in the background, and it was annoying as hell. Don’t Look Back in Anger was w a s t e d on this stupid film. The artsy scenery shots were even worse- no, I don’t give a fuck about the New York skyline or a bird’s eye view of whatever vehicle Lara Jean is in. A few shots of Seoul would’ve sufficed; the rest was overkill. This movie is way too damn long already (almost 2 entire hours!!!); cut out a couple of those. No one cares.

I thought they’d pull the whole Aladdin trope with character-A-keeps-trying-to-tell-character-B-the-truth-about-a-lie-B-believes-in-about-A-but-B-keeps-interrupting, but Lara Jean (typing her name out is annoying, why couldn’t she have a single name, like both of her sisters?) comes clean earlier than I expected. Peter’s reaction about LJ not getting into Stanford is… uncharacteristically mature? No “Why did you lie to me?”, no accusations, not an ounce of betrayal. Which I did not expect from a guy who’s a little bitch for the greater part of book one (I really don’t like Book Peter, in case you couldn’t tell). I know fuck-all about book three’s Peter, so I can’t tell if he really did adopt this mature, well-adjusted persona, or the movie did it to make Peter seem like less of a dick (like they did it with the sextape-that-wasn’t-a-sextape in the first installment).

On a sidenote, how do these main characters in YA books get into really good colleges with zero to no visible effort? These arseholes fuck around for the entirety of the story and have way too much going on to actually do schoolwork, but they waltz into Ivy Leagues at the end. And apparently, I’m not the only one bothered by this.

There’s something to be said about how the movies don’t really sexualize minors (characters who are minors, to be fair. None of the MCs look anything like teenagers), though. It’s almost weird to see them not getting drunk and partying and having sex all the time. Maybe that’s why Lara Jean trying to get her hand on Peter’s dick felt so stilted and awkward (I cringed so hard when she kept trying to touch him and he kept pushing her hand away, holy shit).

And the kissing. It’s to be expected from a romance film, but there was so. Much. Kissing.

The amount of product placements (… actually, I could count only two: Apple and a pair of Beats headphones Lara Jean puts on at one point, but the movie shoved so many iPhones in my face that I’m obligated to exaggerate) would’ve made anti-capitalist Chris mad.

I’m guessing this all takes place in a parallel universe, sans the coronavirus. Still, being in quarantine this past year and being socially awkward for every other one, it was agonizing seeing everyone so close together in NYC. When Peter kissed the ball (lol) (I have the sense of humor of a straight boy in middle school, don’t judge me) when him and Lara Jean go bowling, I had a visceral reaction. And what are the odds of Peter meeting his estranged dad at the very same bowling alley?

Speaking of Peter’s daddy issues (I’ve written “Hardin but diluted” in my notes; I watched this movie at, like, 1 AM; I’m not entirely sure what was going through my head at that point)- I hated how they guilt-tripped Peter into giving his father another chance. In the wise words of Hannah Montana, everybody makes mistakes- but leaving your wife and two kids for another woman is pretty far from a little oopsie on Mr. Kavinsky’s part. I don’t blame Peter for hating him, and I’m not in a place to judge whether Mr. Kavinsky (does he get a first name?) should be forgiven or not, but I feel like they let him off too easy and made Peter seem like a misunderstood teenager with anger issues for not accepting Mr. Kavinsky’s (crappy) apology at once.

And it adds nothing to the story at all; Mr. Kavinsky peaces out after having one (01) coffee with his firstborn, and he’s never seen again. If you’re going to introduce a subplot, make it tie into the main storyline- the very least you could do is make it an important enough part of the story to have more than 10 minutes of the run time. It makes no sense as to why they’d bring up Peter’s dad in this last film, when he’s already gone through two perfectly fine. I guess it was a ‘tying everything up’ part… even though no one cared.

Lara Jean’s handwriting is surprisingly ugly for someone who’s written that many love letters. And her styling took a definite nosedive; her outfits in the first movie were so effing cute, but now they’re just… meh.

There are so many conversations and lines that the writers must’ve thought sounded good enough for someone to type out the quote in curly font and slap it on a screenshot from the movie to post on Instagram, but when it comes to the actual delivery, they just sounded… weird.

Peter says one time near the beginning of the film, “You know what I’m looking forward to the most in college? Never having to say goodnight,” because he expects him and Lara Jean to get into the same college.

But I guess the word they should’ve used was ‘good-bye’, because this just makes him sound stupid.

At one point, Lara Jean asks Kitty how much Kitty’s gonna miss her when she goes off to college, and Kitty says, “A four.” Later on, she confesses, “I’m gonna miss you a twelve, Lara Jean,” and all I could think was, “But we’re endgame, Archie!”

(In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t let people know I’ve watched Riverdale; it lessons my credibility.)

Still, there remains some good to be found: all the baked goods looked very delicious and made me crave chocolate chip cookies. Peter wearing the socks Lara Jean gifted him at the beginning of the movie was a cute gesture, and Lara Jean giving Peter her teal hatbox? The one she kept her love letters in? Was so? Cute? Help?

And hey, it’s a cliché that’s been done to death, but I’m always a sucker for that part in movies where the girl walks down the stairs in a pretty dress with her hand on the banister and the boy turns around and his mouth falls open and all he can say is, “Wow,”- and this film did not disappoint! Not to mention how cute both Lara Jean’s and Chris’s prom dresses were.

Dr. Covey and Trisha/Trina’s wedding was cute, too- I struggled to decide whether Kitty wearing a necklace that says ‘feminist’ and a tux is a bit too on-the-nose, but I’ve decided that it’s nothing to get my knickers all in a twist about (for clarification: it’s not the necklace or the crossdressing that made me debate this; I just wish they didn’t make a big deal out of it- I wish they didn’t have Kitty and Lara Jean get into an argument about her not wearing a dress, if that makes sense?).

And the final letter- the one from Peter to Lara Jean- I ate that shit up; it was so, so, so cute.

In conclusion (why is it so easy for me to crank out 3k about my thoughts on a Netflix movie and yet when it comes to English Lit. at school, I’d stare at a blank sheet of foolscap for ages?), did I enjoy the movie? Not really. There were parts of it that I liked, but it was overall too boring and I kept wishing I’d watched the new SKZ Code episode instead every few minutes.

But that doesn’t mean that it was bad. I kinda feel a little sad, actually, now that Lara Jean and Peter’s story has come to a close; To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, the first movie, is one of my favorites, and bitch though I might about them, the kinda grew on me… like an innocent plant, at first, but then like a fungus. Not a parasitic fungus, just not mutualistic, either… kind of like a commensal.

Maybe I should stop with the biology similes.

[snarkwrites]

summer sizzle | selfish - sweet pea | mature.

PROMPTS USED:

To the music + dirty dancing + “I like you this close to me. You’re warm.” + “You are so fucking beautiful.” + Kiss on the neck +“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.” + comfort sex + needy/clingy + touching / kissing heavy + “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” + afterglow; talking and cuddling -

AUTHORS NOTES:

Look at me, being all productive and shit, posting content not once but twice in a week. Ya’ll, it’s been a while. I’m rusty as fuuuuck I won’t lie, but.. This was fun to write, even if it was a complicated little bitch in the beginning. If enough people want it, I might actually develop an actual fic for this Andrews!Oc and Pea, because I think it could be very interesting. In the meantime, unless you’re not 18+, enjoy the smut?

PAIRING:

Sweet Pea x Andrews!Ofc. [ RIVERDALE FANDOM ]

WARNINGS:

I am baaadly out of practice writing smut, first of all. Slightly jerky behavior to start with on Pea’s part, biting, s*x, swearing, overuse of petnames, angst to start with. Porn, but heavy af on the plot because apparently, I cannot write it any other way. BUT HAHAHA! THIS BITCH REMEMBERED TO HAVE THEM WRAP IT UP. I REMEMBERED THE GODDAMN CONDOM.

No children allowed,m’kay? This is smut. Not the filthiest, probably not even the best, but it’s out there.

TAGGING:

uhh.. given that this is smut, I’m gonna tag @rampagewriting​. If anyone else wants to be tagged in my stuff, follow the link below to my google doc and add yourself, yeah?

Life edit, I also tag @xxghostnappaxx​ to this. 

[ four seasons masterlist ] | [ tag list google doc ] | [ faq ]

  ----> SELFISH, a sweet pea x ofc oneshot.

“If you want to go to the dance, Alyssa.. I’m

not

stopping you.” Sweet Pea spoke calmly, giving a shrug as if he didn’t care either way. As he gazed down at me, I sighed and shook my head sadly. I tried stepping a little closer but he backed away like usual.

At this point, I find myself seriously wondering what exactly keeps me coming back.

,, oh, that’s right you stupid, stupid girl, you’re in love with the jerk.” - the thought came, taunting me in it’s brutal and raw truth.

But a girl can only be pushed out so far and honestly?

I was sick of paying for the pain Josie McCoy caused him. I was sick of having to prove myself over and over, I was beyond tired of being tested and questioned. I was tired of hoping against hope that one day, he’d finally get it. He’d realize that unlike pretty much everyone else in his life to this point, I wasn’t going anywhere.

A talk I had with Betty came back and I turned back to look at Sweet Pea, shaking my head. Something in me snapped and before I could stop myself, I was saying something I knew full well I’d come to regret.

“You’re dense. All this time and you don’t get it. You can’t see what’s right here in front of you, begging to be taken. I loved you, okay? Nothing would’ve changed that. But you… You had to keep pushing me away, you had to keep questioning my motives. I’m going to the dance, Sweet Pea. And I think,” I paused, taking a few deep breaths to keep myself calm. 

If I didn’t do it, I was most definitely going to break down sobbing. I wouldn’t ever go through with this because the last thing I want to do right now is turn my back. I mean, I love the guy. I don’t want to give up like pretty much everyone else in his life has. After I’d taken a few seconds to get myself calm again, I kept going, “ I think that I’m also going to leave you alone from now on since that’s obviously what you want.”

I grabbed my backpack and before he could say anything, I walked out of the empty classroom we’d been sitting in. Almost the second I was out in the hallway and standing by my locker, what I’d just done hit me and I wound up sitting on the hallway floor, my head resting against my knees.

“Alyssa?”

I looked up to find Reggie Mantle standing there, staring down at me in concern. “Are you crying?”

I shook my head, wiping at my eyes. I could’ve easily told Reggie Mantle exactly why I was sitting in the floor of the hallway crying, but in the end, I still cared entirely too much for Sweet Pea and the last thing I wanted was for him to get into another fight.

,, don’t flatter yourself. Did you not see just how little he cares when he didn’t try to stop you? When he didn’t wake up at the last second and at least try to fight for you?” the thought sat in my mind, taunting me bitterly. And I still kept the reason I was crying to myself.

Reggie flopped down next to me and kind of awkwardly slipped his arm around my shoulders. “Hey, c’mon, princess.”

“Don’t call me that… Please?” I glanced up at him, wincing a little at the use of the pet-name. Given that pretty much all of Archie’s friends called me that, I realized suddenly that when Sweet Pea called me that, it had taken on a whole new meaning for me. It changed from just a dumb nickname given to me by my older brother and all of his friends to something… Special. Intimate.

And now, I was going to hear it all the time and yeah, it was probably going to hurt like hell.

Reggie eyed me and I gave him a pleading look. “There has to be a million other things you can call me. I’m not a little girl anymore, Reg.” I said it quickly, hoping it wouldn’t raise suspicion or anything.

I didn’t want any of this getting back to Pea, putting him into a situation with my brother or any of his friends. I let out a deep breath that I didn’t even realize I held when Reggie smiled and nodded, seeming to accept my hasty explanation.

“There’s a lot of things I could call you, angel.” he said it so smoothly that I had not a single doubt in my mind that yet again, he was hitting on me.

But I was hurting so much at the moment, I didn’t immediately put him off. I looked up at him and gave a weak sort of smile, shrugging. “Whatever you wanna call me… Just not princess, okay?”

Reggie flashed a grin and gave me the thumbs up, springing up off the hallway floor. He held out his hand and warily, I eyed it a few seconds before finally allowing him to pull me off the floor. He walked me to class and just before I disappeared in the door, he stopped me, dragging his fingers through his hair as he eyed me up. “You gonna be alright, angel?”

“Yeah, it just hasn’t been a good day.”

“If you wanna talk.. You’ve got your old buddy Reggie.”

Somehow, when he said it, I got the distinct feeling that he meant something more by it, but I shoved the thought down. 

--

I could feel his eyes burning a hole through me and several times, I almost turned around. I almost said something. But I remembered what I was trying to do, and I remembered the way he didn’t say anything to stop me when I did it and the hurt came back all over again.

Sweet Pea hissed my name from behind and I stared straight ahead, blatantly ignoring him. The teacher gave him a dirty look and he went quiet after that. Despite my resolve not to, I found myself turning around now and then, watching him when he wasn’t looking.

But I can’t keep letting myself be a doormat. I have to stand my ground. Even if this is killing me. Even if it’s the last thing I want to do. 

Bearing that in mind, for the rest of the week, I went above and beyond to either avoid Sweet Pea or make sure I was never alone in the hallway or after class so he couldn’t find me or talk to me. I made myself scarce. I bottled everything up and I shoved it all down. And I thought I was doing a pretty damn good job at it too...

--

“You! Explain yourself right now.” Cheryl and Toni stormed into Pop’s and glared at Sweet Pea angrily as they stood by the booth he sat in by himself.

“Hey to you too, Blossom.” Sweet Pea grumbled, not even bothering to look up from the barely touched plate of food sitting on the booth in front of him. He growled quietly when Cheryl and Toni took it upon themselves to sit down in the other side of the booth without bothering to ask.

“Obviously, you two are gonna say something, so just say it and go. Kind of not in the mood.” Sweet Pea spoke up as he stared out the window, into the parking lot. 

“What kind of idiot are you?” Toni asked, shaking her head as she reached across the table, taking some of Sweet Pea’s french fries and eating them herself. He gave her a dirty look but she shrugged, wiping away ketchup from the corners of her mouth before repeating herself. “I repeat, Pea… what kind of an idiot are you?”

“A pretty big one, if you want my opinion, lover.” Cheryl answered Toni’s question before Sweet Pea could say anything.

“Can you two stop dancing around whatever this is and say it?”

“We heard about what happened with you and Alyssa. Are you seriously going to sit here and do nothing? She said she loved you, Pea. What? That’s just not good enough?”

“I know what she said.” Sweet Pea barked the statement, making both girls share a look. After quiet whispering, the two looked at him again, determined. “It was, okay? I just..” he trailed off, swearing under his breath and shaking his head as the two of them shared a look and then directed their gaze to him in unison.

 “What?” Sweet Pea grumbled, taking a sip of the soda on the table beside him.

“You’re going to fix this, you giant idiot. You have to fix it. I can’t have one of my Vixens going around all mopey or even worse, missing Homecoming festivities entirely. Need I remind you, we Vixens have a strong reputation in this school? And if one of us is lacking spirit, it makes us all look bad.”

Sweet Pea laughed. The laughter died away when he realized that they were being serious. “That’s what this is about? Your stupid cheerleading shit? You do realize I can’t fix it, right? Do you not think I’ve tried, Blossom?”

“Try harder, you big oaf.” Cheryl leaned in slightly, glaring at Sweet Pea in frustration. She added as an afterthought, “ I hate seeing her like this, okay? She’s a sweet girl and honestly, it kills me. I need her happy and bubbly. You broke my Vixen, you fix her now.” 

“Don’t hold your breath, Blossom.” Sweet Pea shrugged, his shoulders sagging as he went back to staring down at mostly untouched food. Toni eyed him and spoke up.

“Wow. I have never seen you just sit and pick at your food, Pea. This is really bothering you, isn’t it?”

“Gee… whatever gave you that idea, Topaz?” Sweet Pea snorted sarcastically, giving an eye roll as he shifted around in his seat, eyeing the door. All he wanted to do was escape right now. Because the more they said, the more it made him replay that day over and over again.

And it hurt like hell. It only made him angry at himself all over again.

“You know, you’re a stubborn ass, right? You could fix this if you really wanted to. But I guess you don’t. So I guess she’ll just wind up moving on and you’ll go back to being the miserable man-bitch we all know and love yet want to strangle.”

Toni smirked as her words hit their mark and the two of them stood, walking out of Pops, leaving Sweet Pea to stew in Toni’s parting remark. And it took hold, rooting itself in his mind.

That’s the one thing about friends who are like family. They always know where to hit at to illicit an actual reaction.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Sweet Pea stood, tossing his half eaten food and the empty soda into a bin and he strode out the door into the parking lot.

He happened to look across the parking lot, spot her getting out of the truck with her father, Fred.

He called her name and for once, she looked back. The hurt look in her eyes and the sad shake of her head was what really got him. He couldn’t have felt worse if he tried. He stood there, watching her walk into Pop’s with her father and in that moment, he made up his mind.

One way or another, even if it took a long time, he was going to fight. He couldn’t just give up. He couldn’t let her slip through his fingers.

--

My father cleared his throat from the seat across the booth. “Everything okay, shortcake?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s all good.”

“Well then what was all that outside?”

“What?” I asked the question, tensing a little. Sometimes, having such a perceptive father isn’t really a great thing. Especially when I don’t really… like acknowledging pain. Or dealing with it. I mean, my whole idea of dealing with the situation with Sweet Pea has been to just pretend I’m okay, but to go above and beyond to avoid him. 

“You know what I’m talkin about. The kid called your name and you gave him that look. The one you always gave Archie when you were little and Archie wouldn’t let you tag along to play.”

I plastered on my best convincing face and shook my head, taking a noisy sip of my chocolate milkshake. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, dad. He’s in my class. He was just saying hey.”

“It sounded like he was trying to talk to you.” my father pointed out and I bit my lip, glancing over at him. “Yeah, well.. If he wanted to talk, he should’ve done it earlier. At school. I’m starving. Can we order now?”

My father chuckled and for a few seconds, he eyed me as if he wanted to ask more questions. Thankfully, he let it go. “Yeah. What do you want? I think I’m gonna get my usual.”

“I think I’m going to try your usual, actually.”

“That’s a lot of burger, kid.” my father laughed.

I shrugged and did my best to laugh. As I happened to look over at the window, I did so just in time to see Sweet Pea’s truck pulling out of the parking lot. For a second or two, I wondered what he might have said if I’d walked over.

But I quickly shoved that out of my head.

-- LE TIME SKIPPE.

Cheryl spotted me making my way into the gym. “You came!” she pulled me into a hug and I nodded, shrugging. My eyes roamed around the gym and I swallowed hard, stomach sinking just a little when I saw no sign of Sweet Pea anywhere.

,, did you really think he’d show, Alyssa?” - the thought had me frowning a little, but I quickly plastered on my best attempt at a bright smile when we pulled back from the little hug. Cheryl smiled. “I love the dress. Let’s see if we can’t get you circulating…”

“Actually, I’m just gonna go get some punch? Maybe observe until they play a song worth dancing to?” I bit my lip as I said it and Cheryl eyed me a second or two, before finally giving a nod under Toni’s gaze.

If not for Toni, I have no idea Cheryl would’ve ignored me and gone ahead, doing what she wanted. It used to annoy the hell out of me when we were all kids, but now, I kind of see it as her, trying to show that she really does care.

And she’s been a lot more help than she realizes since things with Sweet Pea crashed and burned so badly. She hasn’t really… let me mope a lot. I’ve wanted to, but she and Toni always find a way to manage keeping me from it.

I made my way over to the punch bowl and the refreshments table and I turned around, my back to the crowd as I scooped punch into my cup, grumbling to myself as soon as I felt the burn of alcohol as it crawled down my throat and into my stomach. “Figures. Somebody would have to spike the punch.” I mused to myself as I sipped from the cup and momentarily toyed with the idea of just grabbing the entire chocolate cake on the table and a plastic fork, disappearing for the alcove beneath the stairs on the freshman wing.

But I told myself that I was coming tonight. I’m trying to get over him. And damn it, I’m determined to fake it til I make it.

“Wanna dance, angel?” Reggie leaned against me from behind, muttering the words quietly against my ear. I bit my lip, trying to brainstorm the best way to politely turn him down.

There’s only one guy I want to dance with, but apparently, I’m not and will never be good enough.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead, frustrated with myself.

I was about to turn around and accept Reggie’s offer  when I heard Sweet Pea speaking up from behind Reggie. “Beat it, Dog.”

“How about you fuck outta here, Serpent?” Reggie gave Sweet Pea a dirty look. 

I stood there, eyes darting from one to the other, both of them tensed and squared up, ready to go in the snap of a finger.

“Guys, no.” I spoke up, warning tone as my hand rested against my hip. “You’re not about to start this shit.”

“He started it.” both responded, glaring at the other. I rolled my eyes and tried to make  it a point to avoid Sweet Pea’s intent gaze. The way deep brown eyes roamed over every single inch of my body, lingering just enough to make my breath catch in my throat. In the end, I just couldn’t though, and I found myself getting sucked into his gaze.

I sighed quietly and managed to tear my eyes off the way he looked in a borrowed suit, the tie undone at his neck, even though the sight of him had my knees utterly weak. I focused on Reggie instead and plastered on a smile, nodding to the dance floor.

“Didn’t you ask me to dance, Reg?” I asked, stepping away from Sweet Pea and a little closer to Reggie. He held out his arm and I looped mine through, letting him lead me out onto the dance floor.

I didn’t dare look back at Sweet Pea. I didn’t have to. I could feel his eyes penetrating me, I could feel his gaze shift to Reggie and I, despite Reggie moving us towards other parts of the gym floor several times during the dance we shared. At one point, he chuckled against my ear as I grinded against him, hips swaying in time to the song playing, “If looks could kill right now, huh?”

I swallowed hard, catching eyes with Sweet Pea. He was leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest. If he glared any harder at Reggie, Reggie would drop dead on the spot. I did my best to look like I was having the time of my life and finally, the song came to an end. Reggie chuckled and dragged his fingers through his hair as he winked at me and told me he’d find me later on tonight, maybe we’d dance again.

I nodded, even though I had every intention of disappearing long before that happened. I was heading back towards the punch bowl for another cup of punch when I felt arms wrap around my waist and I found myself body to body with Sweet Pea.

“That fuckin guy?” Sweet Pea nodded to Reggie, who was already dancing with another girl. I bit my lip and stepped back a little when Sweet Pea moved closer, towering over me.

“He asked me to dance. Seeing as how I’m here alone tonight, all dressed up, I didn’t see the harm.”

“You didn’t see the harm.” Sweet Pea was doing his best at keeping a calm tone, but I could see the exact second his fists clenched at his sides and I could hear it in the way he exhaled. What I didn’t understand was why exactly he was so jealous.

“No. I didn’t.” I swallowed hard as he stepped closer. His hand ghosted my side, fingertips digging in ever so slightly when they stilled on my hip. He leaned down just a little and muttered quietly, calmly, “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you, princess.” using my moment of confusion to pull me closer, pressing me against him. The way he said it had my heart fluttering a little and I barely managed not whimpering at the look in his eyes when mine met his after a few seconds.

I tried to keep some distance between us, attempting to pull back a little even though that was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. I was trying to keep my defenses up. However, he seemed to pick right up on it and something softened in his eyes as he tried again, pulling me close all over again, arms around my waist. 

I couldn’t formulate words or string a single coherent thought together and it was a damn shame because there was so much I wanted to say to him. To yell at him. He’d hurt me and honestly, I just wanted to let him have it.

Instead, I sighed and melted into his arms a little, my hand raising and catching in the collar of his borrowed suit. His mouth grazed right against the shell of my ear and he muttered huskily against, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” before tilting my chin so that I had to look up at him. I gulped, taking a deep breath.

“You really hurt me. I mean, you really, really hurt me.” I pouted a little, at least making a valiant effort to stand my ground and make him own up to his part in the way things played out almost two weeks ago. He flinched, his hand leaving my hip and raising to rake hair back out of my eyes as he continued to stare down at me intently, lost in thought. I took a deep breath and continued, “I should just walk away. Right now.”

“Princess, don’t.” Sweet Pea spoke up quietly with his tone torn between firmness and fear, leaning his forehead down, resting it against mine. Somebody got the DJ to play Love Me Like You Do and for a second, I heavily considered it, just walking off the dance floor and maybe even leaving the dance altogether.

Instead, I took a deep breath and met his gaze, eyeing him expectantly. “Do you have nothing at all to say for yourself, Sweet Pea?”

“Oh, I got plenty to say, princess. I’m just not saying it here, in front of everyone.” Sweet Pea muttered the words quietly, his lips brushing right up against mine as he spoke. I sucked in a sharp breath but I also pouted again, tensing against him a little, because obviously, that was the entirety of our problem to start with. I knew how he felt, hypothetically, I never really doubted it until that last day I talked to him, when he didn’t try to stop me, when he didn’t come after me and trust me enough not to hurt him like he’d already been hurt to let it all go. I did manage to step back just a little, putting space between us and I shook my head. “Wrong answer, Sweet Pea.”

He swallowed hard, looking around.

I bit my lip, shuffling my feet against the gym floor. I didn’t want to do this, but I also didn’t want to get hurt again. I didn’t want to risk anything until I knew that this time, things were going to be a little different.

If not, I couldn’t just stick around and keep waiting, no matter how much I wanted to. What if he was never ready to let me in?

“What do you want me to say? I love you? Fine. I love you.” Sweet Pea was stepping closer all over again, hands firmly planted on my hips this time to hold me in place. At first, I thought about bolting because I wasn’t entirely sure whether he was just saying it now to get me to stay or whether he meant it, but then I looked up and my eyes actually met his.

“I love you and this whole thing is driving me fucking insane, princess.” he pulled me completely against him this time, staring down at me almost hungrily. He grumbled and rolled his shoulders making muscular arms strain against the ill fitting suit and I found my eyes fixated on that, distracted. 

“I see you checking me out, princess. Is there something you want? Just tell me and it’s yours, I promise.” the question was posed with that trademark cocky smirk and I gulped, locking eyes with him. Seconds felt stretched into hours and neither of us said anything, we just stared. At least until I felt his hands wandering all over me as we danced. He leaned in closer, a hand leaving where it rested against my ass to raise to my cheek, gripping, guiding my mouth straight to his own. 

My back hit one of the gym walls softly and I found myself pressed right up against it, his hand lowering from where it rested on my cheek to roam all over my body as his mouth devoured mine hungrily. I could feel my lips starting to bruise and swell and when his teeth sank into my bottom one, tugging at it, I whimpered and raised my arms, wrapping them around his neck, only after I dragged my fingers over his scalp. His other hand tangled in my hair, using his grip to pull my lips into the kiss even deeper still. By this point, we were both gasping for breath, panting heavily and a whimper bubbled out of my throat when he bucked himself against me and growled into the kiss quietly just before it broke, both of us pulling away, wide-eye and trying desperately to catch our breath.

“I asked you a question. Is there anything you want right now, princess?” his voice was a low rumble when he spoke and the way he towered over me, staring down, with an arm raised and his palm flat against the wall I was pressed up against had me leaning against him heavily, all the bones pretty much leaving my legs and reducing them to gelatin just a little more with each little touch, with each on purpose graze of his mouth against my ear or my neck, even the front of my throat. I finally managed to rub against him a little and he growled quietly, biting his bottom lip as he looked down at me, the lust burning bright in his eyes. 

The music changed to a slower song and I shivered at the way he rubbed himself against me, the way he strained against the suit pants making me bite my lip and cling to him, rubbing against him right back. I was grateful for the fact that we were in the back of the gym and nobody was really paying us any attention, because I’d never really danced this dirty with anyone before.

The next thing I knew, I was being scooped up into his arms and carried out of the gym. I clung to him, my lips grazing up and down the side of his neck, little whimpers as he whispered things to me while carrying me out of the dance.

He unlocked his truck, opening the passenger door and sitting me in the seat, stepping between my legs as his hands wandered up and down my sides, then over my thighs. My head fell back and I licked my lips, earning me a growl and him leaning in against me heavily to whisper against the shell of my ear, “You know what that does to me, princess.”

“No, I actually don’t. I didn’t, I mean.” I managed to gasp out in a shaky breath against his ear as my hands wandered down the front of the button up top, unable to still, touching him in any way I could. My legs wrapped around his hips and squeezed against, my heels digging into his ass to pull him against me even more. It ended up leaning me back against the seat a little and Sweet Pea followed me down, his lips ghosting down the front of my throat, littering soft skin with bites and marks.

“We’re leaving, princess… If that’s okay with you.” he managed to gasp out the question when he pulled himself away from my neck and throat, catching his breath as he stared down at me, almost anxiously. It was a switch from the way he usually carried himself, so cocky and self-assured at all times. It let me know just how much I’d truly gotten to him.

“Mhm.” I purred against his neck after I’d melted into him again, muttering a few seconds later, “I like you this close to me. You’re warm.” and batting my lashes, making him growl quietly when the movement tickled his skin. His fingers dug into my body even more, squeezing as if he were trying desperately to hang onto any shred of self-control he might have left. 

“This isn’t getting us outta here, princess.” he gave a low and dark chuckle against my mouth as he zeroed in on it again, another bruising and deep kiss that left my lips swollen and achy. I whimpered, almost needy as he stepped away, tucked my legs into his truck and shut the passenger door firmly. He jogged around to the driver seat and got in, wasting no time in cranking the truck and spinning out of the parking lot and onto the street that ran right past it.

His hand left the steering wheel, moving slowly up and down my thigh, making me whimper and squirm as he nodded to the space next to him in the middle of the bench seat. “C’mon, princess. Get closer.”

I moved closer, leaning against his side and my breath caught in my throat when I felt his hand venture up my dress, rubbing me through the pink satin beneath it. He leaned in a little at the one redlight in town and muttered almost cocky against my ear, “Princess, you’re dripping.” and bit his lip as he pulled away, turning his attention back to the road in front of us as the light went green. The more he rubbed, the more I rocked myself against his hand, making him chuckle quietly. “Good girl. Such a good girl. Just a few more minutes, okay? And then, if you let me, I’m gonna take real good care of you. I mean that, princess.” 

My head fell back against the seat with a soft thud and I whimpered as I rocked myself against his hand even more after he started to rub harder, faster. “Sweet Pea.” I choked out, panting heavily, “Don’t stop. Feels so good.”

The truck pulled to a stop and he killed the engine, wrangling me into his lap, making me pout because he’d taken his hand away. His lips were all over my face and neck until I couldn’t take it anymore and I was literally dying to be kissed again, my hands resting against his cheeks and pulling his mouth against mine greedily.

He bucked himself into me from below and as I rocked myself back and forth in his lap, his fingers dug into my sides, pressing me down harder. “Fuck. I can feel you dripping, princess. This feel good?”

“Yes. So good.” I gasped as I buried my lips in his neck, leaving a mark of my own behind, making him groan and buck into me harder, holding my hips still so that he had control over the friction as he looked me up and down, almost as if he were sizing up mentally just how long it would take to strip me down.

He stepped out of his truck, not bothering to put me down, carrying me up the steps and into his trailer, the door shut and locked behind us. My back pressed into it as his hand made it’s way back up my dress and he bucked against me, rubbing his hand harder against soaked pink satin. 

“Sweet Pea.” I moaned out, shattering the silence in the trailer. “Yeah, baby girl?” he breathed against my ear, his fingers trailing a line straight up my slit after slipping into my panties. “Now. Need you now.” I nipped at his neck as I raised one of my legs to his waist, trying to keep myself steady.

“Now, hmm? If that’s what you want, princess.” he broke the kiss and pulled back, searching my eyes, almost as if he were making sure that I wanted to go this far. I licked my lips and whimpered, rocking myself against his hand all over again, begging for it breathlessly until he pulled me up his body and carried me over to the mattresses he slept on, my back hitting them softly as he sank down, sitting next to me. I climbed into his lap, my fingers pulling at the buttons on his shirt after I’d managed to tug down the jacket of the suit, letting it fall to the bed. His hands disappeared up my dress, fingers catching in the waistband of my panties, tearing them away with a quiet rip and tossing them onto the floor by the bed. He laid me back, positioning himself over me, pressing himself down into me and his mouth rolled over my neck, leaving more bitemarks and little nips behind, smirking against my skin as he did so.

“Everybody’s gonna know you’re mine, princess. You sure you’re okay with that?” his voice was husky, laced with sex and want, almost raw and primal as his lips brushed against my ear and he rocked himself against me. I got my hands free from where they’d been caught and immediately, I went for the button and zipper on his pants, tugging pants and boxers down at the same time. They pooled at his feet as he stood up and he kicked them free, sending them skidding quietly out into the middle of the floor before turning his attention to the little tray table at the head of the bed, digging around on top of it, coming up with a condom in his grip. 

He pulled himself away from me, because he’d been pressed against me again, tearing the wrapper with his teeth and spitting the foil onto the floor after he’d torn the packaging.As he prepared to put it on, I gently pushed his hand away, gazing up at him as my hand circled his cock, working the rubber sheath down in place over it. He growled, bucking himself into my hand and almost the second it was fully on, he had me on my back again, lowering himself down over me.

My legs wrapped around him and he rose up, his hand circling his thick member, guiding it right over my slit, making me gasp as he stared down at me and bit his lip, leaning down just a little to murmur against my ear, “Don’t let me hurt you, princess.”

I hissed as I felt the tip slowly slip in and my nails dug into his shoulders as I tensed all over. He went still, staring down at me, kissing me all over my face before zeroing into my mouth again, but not until I begged for it first.

He started to fuck into me slowly as I began to relax, and I rocked my hips up to meet each thrust, the tips of my fingers gripping at his shoulders a little harder with each one. “You feel so so good, princess. So good. You’re okay, right?”

“Feels good.” I gasped, my eyes fluttering open and shut as I started to feel myself tensing, this slow and lazy heat settling in my core. I could feel myself dripping, and the soft smack of our bodies with every single thrust echoed off the walls of the trailer. He slowed to a stop again, muttering against my lips in a daze, “Gotta slow down, princess. I wanna take my time with you.” and I nodded. I wasn’t really in a hurry to get home, my father told Archie and I we could be out late tonight because of the dance.

Honestly, I’d told him I’d probably just stay over at Cheryl’s or something and he’d been okay with it.

The prospect of having a whole night alone with Sweet Pea was exciting. 

His thrusts sped up a little and when I raised my arms to wrap them around his neck again, he chuckled, smiling down at me, a softer version of his usual cocky smirk. “You feel so good, princess. You’re takin me so well. C’mon, move your hips, baby girl. That’s it.” he groaned out against my ear as he started to slam into me harder, more erratically. 

By now, that slow and lazy heat in my core had turned into a dull throb and I moaned out, rocking my hips to meet his thrusts with more urgency because I could feel myself getting closer and closer with each stroke. He growled and gripped at my hips, trying to hold me still and stay in control, chuckling against my ear almost teasingly, “You gonna come for me?”

“So.. so close.. Don’t stop.” I begged over and over as his thrusts got deeper, rougher, and his fingers dug into my hips, the smack of his body against mine almost in competition to overcome the sound of our combined moans and groans and the soft sucks and slurps every single time his mouth conquered mine. He licked his lips and his jaw clenched, I got the feeling he was holding back and holding off and I dug my heels into his ass, driving him even deeper inside. He groaned against my skin, “Fuck. C’mon, princess. Let go.” as my orgasm shattered through and it pushed him over the edge too, his cock pulsing, my walls vising tight around it as we clung to each other and tried to catch our breath.

After peppering my face and neck and collarbone with kisses, he flopped onto the mattress next to me, rolling onto his side, trailing those thick fingertips slowly over my bare skin as he stared down at me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. We’re okay.” I yawned out, rolling onto my side to face him, slipping my leg over his hip. He raised his hand, gliding it slowly over my thigh, gingerly trailing his fingertips over a few light bruises his hands and fingers left behind on my body. 

“You sleepy, baby girl?” he laughed, teasing me a little as my eyes started to get heavy... 

[25yearsofcrying]

Julie and The Phantoms

Summary: Trying my own hand at JATP novelization, using the show rather than the novel or the scripts. I’m sure it’s been done before but there’s never enough Julie and the Phantoms, right? If nothing else, I have an excuse to rewatch every single scene of the show all over again.

CHAPTER 5: life can be a mess

Julie

There are ghosts in my studio. Okay. All right. I want to say it’s not the weirdest thing that happened to me, but it most definitely is. How do you even begin to process that? I choose to focus on pretending everything is normal. That’s how we deal with issues in this household and it’s been working for us.

As we set up for dinner, we place down a plate for Mom, too. We always do. Tia Victoria thinks it’s unhealthy, but she is not here to judge. We’ve tried not doing it, but the empty side of the table threw everything off balance. I couldn’t stand it. It was like losing her all over again.

When Dad invites Carlos to say the prayer, we join hands with Dad but not with each other. Instead we reach for Mom’s hands. Although she’s not here with us, I almost feel the connection.

“Thank you for our leftovers and the power of the mighty microwave,” Carlos says. “Amen.”

I smirk. “Amen!”

We turn to our spaghetti.

“So, Carlos tells me he found you in the studio,” Dad prompts.

“She was out there talking to herself.”

I don’t like to be a liar, but an excuse comes quick. It’s not like I haven’t tried telling Dad the truth and what that got me was a suggestion to go see my therapist again. “I was rehearsing for a play.”

An unexpected voice saves me from further interrogation. “Hello, hello!” calls tia Victoria. She has the keys and uses them liberally.

“Oh, busted!” Carlos hisses and we swiftly hide the evidence of our coping mechanism. Mom’s empty plate ends up in my lap while my brother grabs the unused cutlery, just as our aunt waltzes in. Tia Victoria has been a huge help after Mom passed, but she worries more than we need her to. Dad hasit under control by now.

“Yeah, we’re in here!” he calls now before making sure we’ve cleaned away everything before tia Victoria waltzes into our kitchen.

“Spaghetti! Again…” she comments, unimpressed with our dinner. She is carrying a crockpot, which comes as no surprise. Keeping us fed had been one of the duties she’s taken upon herself. She is an excellent cook, but not one of us cares all that much what we are eating these days. I can tell that it makes Dad feel a little self-conscious. He can take care of us. “That’s too bad. I brought you my pastele and arroz con pollo,” she announces cheerfully.

“Thanks, tia,” I say. “It smells great.” And it does. But Dad’s spaghetti are fine enough.

She carries the food to the fridge. “You can have it tomorrow. I can’t let you have leftovers every night. My sister would kill me, may she rest in peace…” As she says that, her gaze turns to the table and she immediately notices that there is no extra plate sitting on it. Because the extra plate is in my lap, but she doesn’t know that. “Oh, I see things are going better?” she comments and in the next moment she is by my side, caressing the empty spot on the table’s surface. She genuinely looks pleased with our progress.

“Actually,” Dad says, “Julie has been cleaning out Mom’s studio. Hopefully, we can get the house on the market and some offers soon.” He sounds proud of me, but I don’t think he is as eager to move as I have been. This has always been his and Mom’s dream house. I’ve felt the pain of our past here, behind every corner, but Dad doesn’t seem to suffer from it the same way.

“Well, I like the sound of that. Moving from here is gonna help you move on.” Tia Victoria has been a huge proponent of us moving forward with our lives. “You’ve got to rip that Band-Aid off and get the pain over with.”

That’s when I scream. Not because of tia Victoria’s words, but because three ghosts have just wandered through the door. Through it. It seems that solid matter is no longer an obstacle to any of the boys.

“That’s me, ripping off the Band-Aid,” I lie and it’s not exactly persuasive but no one seems to notice the guys, so they believe me.

Sunset Curve. I know now that the muscle tee guy is Luke, the tall one in the pink hoodie is Alex, and the one in a leather jacket is Reggie.

“There’s my brave girl!” says tia Victoria, who doesn’t know the half of it.

Luke comes closer and leans to me. “Hey, Julie, I really like what you guys did with the place.”

I don’t have the time to think about how these boys knew this house before it was my parents’. “you shouldn’t be here,” I hiss.

Tia Victoria thinks it’s addressed to her and she recoils. “Oh, I’m just here to help, mija.”

Alex, who seems to have some sense although he is not as soothing as he thinks, says: “I think that’s our cue to leave…”

Meanwhile, I try to smooth things over with Tia Victoria. “I mean you should be at Pilates!” I remind her, leaning against her affectionately to show that I didn’t mean to chase her away. Although perhaps I did, a little. As much as we love her, she can be a lot. I’m not sure I can handle her on top of the day I’ve already had. “Thanks for bringing us food!”

Out of the corner of my eyes, I see the boys leave.

I said the right thing, because Tia Victoria laughs bashfully and puts her arm around my shoulders. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand but it’s clear the expression of gratitude pleased her. But then she keeps talking: “And now that you are no longer in the music program, you can concentrate on classes that matter.”

I freeze. Dad does, too, confusion and concern mixes in his expression. He glances between me and Victoria. Besides him, Carlos winces.

“You got the email from the school, right?” Tia Victoria prompts when she notices his reaction.

“Yeah,” he lies. “We’re still discussing it.”

I don’t want to have this conversation in front of Tia Victoria, even though she is clearly less than upset by my failure in the music program. She has never understood what music means – meant – to me. To her, it has never been more than a hobby I should pursue in my free time.

I hate to think that maybe she was right.

She squeezes my shoulder. “Bueno! I’m off to Pilates.”

Suddenly, I want her to stay. There is an uncomfortable silence that follows in her wake. Dad is looking at me. Carlos clears his throat and says: “So, Julie, wanna hear about how I slid into home and was almost safe?”

I appreciate his effort. Even if Dad dismisses him instantly. “You’re a good brother, but that’s not gonna work…”

Carlos shrugs. “I tried.” He gets up and grabs his now empty plate, somehow having finished his meal during the conversation with Tia Victoria. He leaves us to our conversation.

Dad looks at me so seriously. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “You made me lie to your aunt.” There is disappointment in his words and that cuts deeper than if he was shouting at me.

“Sorry, I was gonna tell you after dinner… I was!” I say, defensively, when he gives me a disbelieving look.

“Honey, I know those classes can be difficult, but you still like music, don’t you?”

Do I? It was always the most important thing, before. But before, so much was different. Now, I am not sure what I’m supposed to do with my life. Music hurts too much. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Look, we talked about this… How painful memories can be, but…” He looks so sad and concerned and it makes me wish I’d tried harder. Or that he’d shout at me, just this once. “You know, every time I see you and Carlos, I see Mom. It’s like she’s right here with us. And you know what? I love that. I do. And maybe if you’d give yourself a chance, you’ll get there.”

I am saved, in some sense of the word, from answering by music suddenly flooding the air. It’s coming from the studio.

“What’s that?” Carlos asks from the kitchen, confirming that I am not the only one who hears it. In style, it’s similar to what I’ve heard from the CD. Rock. And it’s loud enough to make the air vibrate and the neighbourhood dogs howl.

I jump up to my feet. “I must have left the stereo on in the garage. I’ll go get it.”

[civilization-illstayrighthere]

indulgences, 3.8k PWP vicar Maximillian desoto / m! Captain fic (spoilers for ‘the empty man’) 

The Captain is stonily silent as they slosh through the shin-deep water of Fallbrook’s River, away from the cowering, but still very much breathing form of Reginald Chaney. Felix keeps nervously glancing between him and the vicar.

“Wow,” He laughs, “That almost got ugly, right?”

There’s silence. Felix tries again: “First time we haven’t rushed into a fight, huh? The guy would have had it coming, though.”

The Captain grunts back a noncommittal answer. Max sighs.

“It’s for the best. Can we drop it, Felix?”

“Yeah, I mean, I was kinda hoping to sock him one, but I guess—“

“Can we drop it, Felix?” The Captain echoes, stopping in his tracks. Max doesn’t like his tone. Felix shrinks. The two of them were close— two oft-obnoxious, dimwitted C&P peas in a pod. Occasionally refreshingly insightful in their ignorance, but mostly annoying, especially in Mr. Millstone’s case. Usually they were the ones to gang up on him, overriding his levelheaded ideas in favor of whatever was louder and flashier—

But, from the glare the Captain spares him as he continues walking, he’s not on Max’s side, either.

He can’t blame him, exactly. He had, after all, been lying to the Captain from the time he saw the man wander into his church with a blood-crusted pulse hammer strapped on his back and Ms. Holcomb following hesitant on his heels. He had been lucky it was her whom he had been paired up with, instead of some of the other inhabitants of Edgewater; she barely knew him from the Architect’s first man.

But it had been a just lie, hadn’t it? The book— the book was in fucking French, a language on Halcyon only spoken in advertisement jingles for mockapple pie a la mode. His fault as well for trusting a convict, but he’s been searching for the answers to the Plan since seminary, for twenty-four law-damned years.

As soon as they reach the shore, Felix is more than happy to split.

“I’m gonna, uh— head on out to the bar,” he jerks a thumb behind him. The vicar rolls his eyes. “I’ll meet you guys back at the rental later, depending on how many drinks I have, you know, don’t expect me back or anything soon, or—“ he doesn’t really end the sentence, more just backpedals away until he’s out of earshot, before turning and jogging down the road.

There’s nothing he would enjoy less than being stuck with Felix Millstone and a bunch of faux-rebellious Byzantium gold-bloods drunk off Spectrum vodka spritzers in a bar, but Max is half tempted to follow.

“C’mon,” As if he could feel Max wrestling with his thoughts, the Captain jerks his attention away, tilting his chin the opposite direction, towards their sublight-sanctioned rental. “We need to talk.”

The vicar sighs. “We do.”

He tries to make himself furious at Reginald Chaney for this, he really does. He’s been furious for fucking years. But he finds he doesn’t have any left in him, as if it drained out into the shallows of the riverbed.

Max had been ready to kill him, rend and tear. He had spent so much time imagining the ways he could inflict the kind of pain that could only pale to the feeling of holding that incomprehensible book in his hands. That’s what his mind kept going back to— the years wasted, the effort, the dogged study he went through, only for his last effort to be the punchline of some sniveling moron’s joke. And the Captain had held him back. Frankly, he hadn’t expected that; the man had a mean temper himself, quick to sour when pushed, turning to intimidation when needed. He would have figured the Captain would have encouraged him to rend that sorry excuse of a man in two.

Instead, he had grabbed Max’s shoulder, said in a low tone that Reggie wasn’t worth it, even as he glowered at the quivering man before them. He didn’t need the Captain’s presence to intimidate; he found himself quite confident in those matters alone. It didn’t hurt, however, to have the two of them doing so. (And Felix in the wings, puffing his chest and throwing out a “yeah, what, how about that” didn’t exactly help, but it at least did keep him occupied.) He’s seen the Captain crush marauder helmets like overripe nanners with a single swing. He was handsome when he smiled; but still in his wilds armor, over six foot with a buzz cut and the facial burn scars from a hibernation pod landing gone wrong— well. He didn’t blame Chaney.

His Captain closes the door of their rental behind them. The click of the lock sounds louder than normal.

It’s Max who breaks the silence. It’s easier that way to take control, speaking in a low and even tone, as if to a wounded animal. The Captain is certainly pacing around the small room like one. “I want to thank you for talking some sense into me back there with Chaney. It has been a long time since I’ve given into my... violent enthusiasm.”

“Cut the bullshit, Max. You lied to me?”

Max bites his tongue. “Not a lie, per se— well—“

“You think I’m a joke, ain’t you?” Captain growls.

“Listen—” Max holds out placating hands, “You’re right. I apologize. I’ve been so focused on this, so focused on finding all of the answers—“ Stomach sinking, Max sighs. Even now, the raw anger hasn’t faded from the Captain’s face. The hurt. Now that he’s come clean, he does feel some guilt for his actions. They had been justified, of course, but he hadn’t meant to truly hurt anyone in the process, save Reginald himself. “I understand if you want me to leave. You accepted me into your crew, the friendship you gave me... but I hadn’t meant to betray your trust in a way.”

“Funny,” The Captain spits, “Didn’t mean to betray my trust by lyin’?”

“I’m sorry.” Max insists, “Captain—”

“I thought as a preacher man—“

“Vicar.” Max corrects.

“Vic-ur—“ The Captain snaps back, mockingly, “Whatever,” he whirls on his heel, “I thought you types weren’t supposed to lie, and all that.”

“We try not to.”

“Try?” He scoffs, “And you did it— you did it so smooth-like, like you were telling the truth. Weren’t sweating none. What else can you lie about?” His frustration is bleeding out, “What else— like, are you even a vicar?”

Max sighs. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“And your name?”

His patience is growing thin. “I haven’t lied half as much as you think.”

“So that’s—!” He throws up his hands. “Fuckin’ half, then, Max, ‘cause I think you’re just a liar all around, one-hundred percent, so you lie about half of everything?”

“No, just this. And Captain, you must believe me, I regret it— I didn’t know you, and the rest of the crew, when I boarded your vessel like I do now.” It feels like pulling teeth, but it needs to be said. He’s not a sentimental man.

“That ain’t a good reason.” The Captain falters, “Good people don’t lie just ‘cause they don’t know someone.”

“I know. I’m not a good person.”

“Well, neither am I.” He stalks forward, “And if your laws are all about the strong surviving and the weak perishin’, and all,” the Captain leans in. They’re near the same height— which is to say, taller than most— but the Captain was broader in the shoulders and chest, and when he squared them—

It wasn’t fear. Though he would be lying if he said he wasn’t just a shade intimidated at the low timbre of his Captain’s voice, hushed and bearing the promise of violence as their noses just brushed: “Then it’d be downright holy to kick your law-forsaken ass.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Max holds his ground, feels his voice grow rough, the unspent adrenaline from earlier thumping behind the backs of his eyes, “Would that make you feel better, Park? ‘Kicking my ass’?”

He holds his stare. But then his Captain softens, flinches (at his name? Max can’t tell,) looking towards the ground. He takes a hesitant half-step back. “Naw,” his voice is soft, “That’d be real lowdown of me, real hypocritical. Especially after I just stopped you from doing it back there.”

He sags where he stands. Max feels a twinge of regret. His Captain is not a bad man, not at all. Quick to anger, but so was he. Captain Park was a hard, earnest worker. He practically trips over himself to help any person who crosses their path, even if he doesn’t always understand the implications of doing so. “Captain...” He grows quiet, “You owe me nothing. I know. I know this. I’m begging you for forgiveness.”

His Captain says nothing, just stares at the floor, and paces. Max shakes his head. “I promise you, from the bottom of my heart— as much as you and the rest of this crew are convinced I do not have one— I am sorry.”

The Captain is silent, for a moment. He stills. His dark eyes dart down, then back up. “Prove it.”

“Excuse me?”

His lips. The Captain’s looking at his lips. Self-consciously, Max feels himself wetting them with his tongue. A nervous habit he’s always tried to rid himself of. “I can’t trust nothing that comes out of that mouth of yours.” The Captain jerks his chin up defiantly at him. “How am I supposed to know you won’t do nothing like this again?”

It would be easy to excuse his Captain’s wandering eye as simply that, a casual glance. The Vicar crosses the space between them.

He almost looks shocked when Max lays his hand against his chest, unfurling his crossed arms, almost as if to push the vicar off. Max doesn’t give him time to react past that; he leans in, presses his lips to the Captain’s. It’s chaster than he means, closed eyes and closed lips. The Captain’s are chapped, but warm, and entirely unmoving.

Embarrassment starts to curl low in his belly. He pulls back, “I apologize, Captain, I thought—“

His curt defense is silenced as his Captain leans back in, kissing him with voracious, dizzying force. He can feel their stubble catch, scratching with each movement; he hasn’t kissed another man in years, since seminary, and he feels alight from the friction.

“Oh,” The Captain pulls back, and gives him such a dopey stare it makes his chest unexpectedly clench, “Vicar— I, uh—“

“Shh,” He’s quick to shush him, verbally and with another kiss. As inspiring as his Captain’s honesty is, he can’t quite take it now, not with his blood pumping in his ears the way it does when he’s swinging a tossball stick at a marauder.

His Captain’s face shifts; understanding, accepting. Max kisses him again, soft and slow this time, the quiet, wet sound of their lips. His palms feel sweaty when he settles them against the Captain’s hips. He needs this, too, and he knows if he thinks too hard on it, like most things, he will talk himself in circles around it.

The Captain drags him back into the kiss, settles his big hands around his waist. His hands guide him away from the door, towards the bed. When his ankles hit the edge of the bed, he ducks down but not enough, swearing against the vicar’s lips as the back of his skull connects with a crack with the overhang. Max can’t help it: he laughs into his mouth, even as his Captain pulls him down.

“Fuckin’ smarts,” he mumbles against his lips.

The vicar settles nicely into his lap, legs straddling his waist. “You want me to kiss it better?”

“Does that count as a— what d’ya call it—“ The Captain punctuates his pause with a roll of the hips. The swell of his cock is unmistakable against his ass. “A benediction?”

Max smirks. He can’t find himself annoyed by his Captain’s ignorance when he’s grinding against him like this. He’s ruching his vestments up with both hands, tugging at the worn dress shirt he wears underneath. “Something like that.”

“Let’s get this off.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. Max has no qualms about the human form; if anything, he considers himself a fine example of being made in the Grand Architect’s image at his age. His Captain’s heavy lidded gaze rakes up his torso, followed by his hands.

“What do you like?”

Max hums, arches his back. “I’m adaptable.”

“What the— adaptable?” The Captain clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth, befuddled annoyance written clear across his face, “I’m just askin’ a simple question— fuck, Vicar, what the fuck does that even mean—“

“You tell me, Captain.” The vicar interrupts, “Do you want to fuck me?”

His Captain groans low in his throat; his hands almost instantly become clumsier, pawing helplessly at the band of Max’s pants, his fingers slipping under to touch the band of his underclothes. “Yes.”

He rolls his Captain over; it’s a tangle of limbs getting each other undressed in the single-sized bunk. Max nearly protests of his vestments hitting the floor in a wrinkled heap, but his attention is quite literally turned with his Captain’s hand squeezing the back of his neck, dragging him back into a kiss. It’s a kind of hard manhandling that makes his eyes slip closed. His Captain tastes like purple berry crunch and the dregs of adreno use still hanging in the back of his throat.

Captain pulls back, squeezes the back of his neck, trails his fingers around against Max’s collar bone.

His hammer-calloused fingers are in his face. The Vicar sucks in a breath as his Captain traces his cupid’s bow.

“Suck.”

“That’s— undignified.” Max groans, unconvincing even to his own ears. His Captain smirks below him, a rare victory, running his thumb down from his lips to the cleft of his chin where the faintest stubble has grown in the days they’ve been traveling across Monarch.

“Sure is,” he tilts the vicar’s chin down. Max’s lips part. He swipes his thumb up, and the tip of Max’s tongue darts out— barely a touch, but by the way his eyes slit, he knows his Captain felt it. “Thought you were gonna be a team member now? An honest part of the Unreliable crew?”

When he presses that thumb to his lips again, Max takes it into his mouth. Warningly, he scrapes his teeth against the pad, and his Captain’s eyes flash dark. But it’s a warning, not a true threat, nothing he wants to act on— Max sucks, swirls his tongue around the pad of his finger. It’s salty and not altogether pleasant. His Captain has thick, thick fingers.

(Something he has never noticed, of course not, never has the good Vicar even once fantasized about those fingers and how surprisingly deft they were at lock picking, the thickness of his knuckles—)

He pulls his thumb from Max’s mouth with a soft pop. “Law.”

As much as Max would be willing to wet his Captain’s fingers until sopping, his Captain scrambles out of bed for something more substantial. He finds a tin of Spacer’s Choice lubrication in one of the drawers, forgotten from the last round of people to have moved through this space.

Max is waiting for him on the bed. Captain’s fingers probe searchingly; Max spreads his legs a little more, sucks in a breath as his Captain pulls him apart and rubs his thumb in maddening circles over his hole.

“I’ll go slow—“

“Don’t coddle me.” Max nearly snaps, arches back against his fingers. “I’m not some starry-eyed school-boy still in seminary. You aren’t my first.”

The Captain chuckles throatily, pushing the tip of his finger in; the burn of the intrusion is welcome, pleasure curling low in Max’s gut. He takes himself in hand, strokes down and makes a show of it as the Captain works his fingers into him.

“Y’know,” his Captain sounds hoarse, “Speaking of seminal-ary.” If he wasn’t being mercilessly fingered right now, his Captain curling and pushing and flexing, Max would have the voice to do more than groan, “Thought, uh. Thought men of the cloth were supposed to be chaste.”

“Not in scientism,” Max gasps, the point and counterpoint of his stroking hand and his Captain’s fingers reducing his ability to speak, “I feel like that’s obvious enough at this point, and I’d prefer not to explain myself when you’re knuckles deep in m— Grand Architect above—“

The Captain twists his fingers again, and Max groans, half-collapsing in on himself and on top of the Captain. “Fair ‘nough.”

He’s thorough, but quick; and Law, Max is thankful for that. He’s well-versed in his body now, at forty-two, and he knows what he can take, even if it’s been a while. And to be honest (which was the point of this excursion, wasn’t it,) he could be satisfied like this, stroking himself with the knuckles of his Captain’s hand bumping a steady tempo against him—

Against the back of Max’s thigh, his Captain has been grinding impatiently. He pushes himself up more onto his knees, and reluctantly the Captain’s fingers slide out of him. Blindly, he adjusts himself; he can feel the tip of his Captain’s cock bumping against his cheek, a wetness from his tip smearing across his skin.

With his other hand, the Captain lines his cock up, removes his fingers. Max looks over his shoulder, shivering as the Captain’s dick slides between his ass. His breath catches. “Don’t be a fucking tease.”

“No?” The hand on his ass slides back to the cleft, pressing his thumb against his hole, “‘cause you ain’t seen teasing, not yet. I could finger your ass all night, vicar, ‘specially one like this, could spend all the time in the world stretchin’ you out until you were begging—“

He’s rubbing in slow, teasing circles, a constant motion, and Max thinks he will be driven mad by it. “Captain,” he interrupts forcefully, “Fuck me, please, ” and then, impulsively, leaving his lips before they fully register in his brain, he gasps, “Forgive me.”

His Captain’s movements stutter. “Yeah?”

That hit a nerve. Max licks his lips, ventures again, “isn’t that what this is all about?” He rocks back, tries not to sound out when his Captain’s finger presses a little firmer against him. He’s aching now from the absence of anything in him. “Forgiving me for my transgressions?”

The Captain groans, clambers to line himself up. He slides into him nice and steady, a hand to his hip. Law above, he’s thick, and he feels him sink down root to tip, the heat of his hips flush against him. It has been— too long, embarrassingly long. Nobody in that muck stained town of Edgewater ever came close to interesting enough to be spared a second glance, though he thinks it laughable now that a sous-chef by trade and a Captain in stolen name only was the one to finally bring him to bed after such a dry spell.

“Good?”

“Move, damn you—“

And he does, he does, and Max groans and swears and collapses face down against the bed, spreads his knees akimbo as his Captain fucks into him.

Max takes his cock in hand, stroking himself in time with his Captain’s thrust. He adjusts, hunched over the vicar, pistoning into him; his hand slides from his waist to the base of his throat. The groan that escapes him is automatic; his cock pulses in his hand as the Captain’s fingers lightly, experimentally, squeeze.

“Yeah?”

Max groans his approval, throws his head back to bare the column of his neck even more. The Captain wraps his hand around him, a warm, calloused heat.

“Forgive me, Captain—“

His thumb digs into the hollow of his neck, presses down— the next breath Max sucks in is delightfully ragged, the pressure and pleasure of it zipping straight to his cock. “Louder.”

“Forgive me, Captain,” Max gasps, words stilted with each thrust, “Fuck, fuck, Law above, forgive me, forgive me—“

The hand around his throat tightens, presses in below his wildly bobbing adam’s apple. Each thrust punches the breath out of him, and each new intake is less than the last; he can feel his head swell, an intoxicating hum of static, his field of view narrowing and narrowing. He imagines if he dies like this, surely, that would have to be according to plan; nothing feels less right than being speared on his cock, gasping and scrabbling and begging for forgiveness, his ever-present thoughts clearing under the physical onslaught. All he can focus on is the Captain in him, the hand on his neck, ever-tightening, the searing pleasure—

He tries to breathe again, and this time, the hand tightens like a vice. He gasps noiseless, breathless. He is dying, he feels, or something so exquisitely close to it.

“C’mon, vicar,” The Captain’s drawl break through the heady buzz, hot against his ear, “come for me.”

When he does, he sees stars, planets and galaxies— and for a moment, his body gives in, slumping in the Captain’s arms, falling forward with the next thrust. It’s a momentary blackout, and he comes to with the Captain thrusting into him, the pace increasingly erratic. He mouths at the shell of his ear, groans long and low as his hips stutter.

Max groans, but no sound escapes him, throat raw. It doesn’t help that the Captain has collapsed on top with his entire weight pressed into his ribs.

“Park,” he finally rasps. His voice is hoarse and foreign in his own ears. He feels weak as a newborn fuzzy cow, his arms trembling too much to even provide the strength to push himself up. “Captain.”

“M’sorry,” the man mumbles, muffled against Max’s neck. He kisses it once— a decidedly tender motion against what assuredly will be very violent looking markings the vicar will have to turn up his collar as high as possible to hide. “Y’okay?”

“Yes, yes.” He clears his throat, but it does nothing for his tone. He braces himself on his forearms. The Captain fixes him with a balefully apologetic look. “I’m fine, thank you. No need to get soppy, now.”

“M’not.” His Captain protests, grinning dopily.

Max rolls his eyes and snorts. “Alright, then. Well.” He nearly smoothes a hand down the front of his vestments, except he’s obviously not wearing them— it’s admittedly strange, to be completely nude (And completely fucked through) with no crutches to lean on in front of the other. “I assume now all is forgiven?”

The most annoying thing about the crew of the Unreliable has been their predisposition to see right through him. The Captain, slowly dragging Max back on top of him with a shit-eating grin, is certainly no exception. “Hm, maybe. But I wouldn’t be opposed to hand out a little more forgiveness, if you’d accept it ‘n all.”

Max shivers as his Captain runs blunt nails down his back, gazing hopefully up at him. Law above and below. “I think,” He tries to sound dignified as his Captain’s hands creep lower, “We may be able to manage one more one-on-one counseling session.”

—-

In the next room over, with his pants shoved down around his thighs, Felix Millstone stares exhaustedly at the ceiling of his bed’s nook.

“Holy fuck,” he mutters, pun neither realized nor intended.

— 

also hi if you’ve read this far— do you hate ‘the captain/his captain’? I can’t decide if it feels too aggressively fanfiction-y if that makes sense. generally in fics w a create your own character i prefer the ‘default’ name but I hesitate to call him Hawthorne. might just go full hog and use Park’s name but. please feel free to crit that (and any other obviously) but would appreciate especially comments on that before i post the polished version on ao3

[killmongersbootycall]

Princess 👑

Description:

Jamilah is a spoiled rich girl who doesn’t know when to stop acting up. Her doting father who never knows when to stop her in her tracks is scared to realization when she nearly kills herself in a drunken episode. New body guards are needed on the double. Then walks in Erik Stevens. Read as their lives intertwine in ways that are good, and some that are not so great. Besides, Erik seems to be hiding something. What is it? Read to find out.

(Minor Spanking, Minor Fondling, Angst, Flirting.)

~~~

Chapter 4

1 2 3 4

You’re a more than a little disappointed when for the next few days, Erik straight up ignores you as best as he can. What really grinds your gears though is how he pretends he can’t see how pissed off you are, no matter how much you show it. You hate it. The feeling of not getting your way. You always got what you wanted, be it through your fathers money or through your charms. Hell, even threats worked in your favor. But Erik was immune to it all, and that was really frustrating. You wanted him to pay attention to you. Yeah, he’s your bodyguard and he kinda has no choice in that but you craved it in another way. You wanted him to want you like everyone else did. It was the first time in your life someone didn’t react to you as everyone else did and that was beyond annoying.

Your yellow acrylic nails tap rhythmically against the table in front of you. You pop your gum loudly, ignoring the way customers seated in the fancy restaurant you were in flinched, glancing at you occasionally, disgust in their eyes. You glare at a particular woman who whispers to her husband about you and she stiffens and turns quickly back to her meal. Unbeknownst to you, it’s Erik’s glare from behind you that spooks her. You uncross and cross your legs under the table, getting impatient. Your father and his ‘wife’ were supposed to be at the table with you, but they both had to mysteriously use the bathroom at the same time.

The two come back to the table giggling, your fathers usually pristine hair a mess and his ‘wife’s’ face flushed. You roll your eyes, irritation rising in you and slight embarrassment due to the fact that Erik was here to see all this.

“Jam, I hope we didn’t keep you waiting to long. The line was... absurd.” Your father says, a guilty smile slipping into his face.

You love your father, so to keep the peace, you smile back at him and nod. “It’s no problem, daddy.” You reply sweetly.

He smiles back in satisfaction, his hand coming up to caress your cheek to which you beam at him. Your stepmother watches on with narrowed eyes.

“Ahem.” She clears her throat, bringing up a napkin to dab at her lips. You can’t help but roll your eyes and look at her.

Delores Manchester. At least, she used to be Manchester. You refused to acknowledge the fact that you both now shared the same last name. The woman was the devil in disguise. Your father had married her about two year ago and she would be another on his very, very long list of ex wives. Normally, you would never have bothered yourself in whatever new gold digger your father married, knowing they’d be around for a year at most, but Delores had lasted, and not only did that make you worry, but there was also something about her. She’d always sneak off to make phone calls, or disappear for days on end telling you father she had a business trip (obvious lie because what ex-model goes on business trips). Something about her was off, but in all honesty, you didn’t care enough to investigate. You just didn’t like the bitch, period.

“So, Jamilah honey-“

“Don’t call me honey.” You say interrupting her midsentence.

She falters and her eyes momentarily become cold but it’s just for a second, and then she’s beaming at you in that fake stepmother way stepmothers do when they’re trying to impress their husbands. Your father silently watches on, too pussy to say anything to his new wife.

“Ahem, Jamilah. How is everything with the business?” She asks, taking a sip of her wine.

You immediately get irritated. You had a side business running. A hair salon. The problem is that for some strange reason, it was like god didn’t wanna see you prosper, so there was always something wrong with the store. Mysterious fire. Robbery. Hell, y’all even had a lice outbreak once.

“It’s great. Business is booming.” You reply smugly.

A flash of amusement blooms in Delores’ eyes and you narrow yours at her for a second. It’s gone though. She nods with a plastic smile.

“That’s wonderful. About time really.” She says, a deeminging smirk on her face.

You feel your blood boil. “Excuse me?” You ask, finger digging into the table.

“I mean, some would say this idea of yours is the literal definition of insanity. All signs point to this... facility, of yours failing, and every time something heinous happens, you build it up from scrap again. I’m just worried as your mother, that’s all.” She states, all the while smiling and sipping.

You see red and you move to get up, but a hand on your shoulders sends you right back down to your seat and firmly holds you there. You turn around and see Erik looking at you with a cautious look, and you turn back around after taking a deep breath.

“Firstly, you’re not my mother. Second, don’t be worried about me and my business, we’re fine. Worry about how much longer your gonna keep your claws in my father cus from what I’ve seen over the years, your time is running out.” You reply, hate spewing into each word that comes from your mouth.

Your fathers hands slam the table. You jump and look at him. The whole restaurant has gone silent, and your father looks at you with anger in his eyes.

“That is enough. She’s asking because she cares Jamilah. Don’t you see that?” He asks, and it breaks your heart to see the pain in his eyes.

“But daddy, she-“

“I don’t wanna hear it, Jam.” He interrupts. You fall silent, and Erik’s hand on your shoulder softens, almost comforting you.

Tears well in your eyes and you get up from the chair, the sudden movement making Delores jump. You glare at her then at your dad before snatching up your purse and practically running out of there. You run to the main entrance and exit, then whip your phone out and call your limo driver. You wait for the limo not even noticing Erik behind you.

He clears his throat, not liking the awkward atmosphere. You turn around and see that its him, and a wave of anger comes over you. You dont mean to do it, but you immediatley take your anger out on him.

“What the hell makes you think you can touch me? What was that in there? You seem to forget that I’m the one who fucking pays you. I’m the one who lets you have food on your fucking table. Keep pissing me off and I will fire your ass faster than you can say ‘oops’.” You yell at him. At the end of your rant, your panting loudly.

Erik’s face is blank, and bored with the lack of reaction from him, you turn away from him with a huff. Behind you though, Erik silently seethes, and it takes the strength and patience of his ancestors not to each you the lesson you so deprately deserve. The limo pulls up and you step in, sitting far away from Erik. Erik enters and sits, still not speaking.

“Where to, Ma’am?” Your driver asks from the pane that seperates you from him. 

“Anubis. Step on it. I’m tryna get drunk tonight.” You reply with an eyeroll.

You hear a scoff next to you and turn your head just as Erik speaks.

“No you not. Straight home, Reggie. Thank you.” Erik says, then closes the pane.

You stare at him baffled. “Um, ex-fucking-scuse me? I said Anubis and I meant that shit.” You seethe, leaning forward to open the pane. 

Eriks hand stops you, yanking you back to your seat. You gasp when your butt makes impact with the chair and turn to look at Erik. 

“Sit down and shut up. You’re going home.” He says then looks away.

You’re reaction is instant. You hand collides with his cheek hard, a smacking sound resonating through the back seat. Your palm stings from the contact, so your sure Erik felt it. He doesn’t move for a second, just staring ahead, then his head turns towards you. His hand moves to the pane and opens it, his eyes not leaving yours.

“Reggie?” 

“Yes?”

“When I close this, this shit becomes sound proof, right?”

“Yes.”

“Aight, just checking.” The hand on the pane shuts it, then moves away.

In a sudden movement, Erik grabs you and you squeal as your sent sprawling over his lap. You bring your arms to brace yourself while asking what the hell he’s doing, but those arms are grabbed and yanked behind you, held securely against your back by one of Erik’s hands. You struggle and kick, but it’s useless.

“What the fuck? Let me up Erik!” You scream, feeling your face go hot from both the position your in and rage.

“Shut up.” He says, calm as can be.

You buck and fight, trying your hardest to get free from this man.

“You can’t talk to me like that you fucking bitch! Let me go right now! Erik, right no-“

Smack!

All thoughts in your head halt, as do the words leaving your mouth. It takes a second for you to register that the loud smack you heard and the stinging pain on your ass correlate. You look at the black leather car seat in shock.

“When I say something Jamilah, I mean that shit.” He grits, repharasing your words in a way that would usually leave you seething, but you’re in too much shock to react.

Seconds go by without you saying anything, but then common sense seeps back into you.

“Erik, let me up.” You say, and it borderline sounds like your begging because you didn’t mean for your voice to be that soft.

“No. Now shut up.” He repeats.

Your anger flares again and you put your head up to say something but another slap lands on your ass and all that leaves you is a gasp of pain.

You lay there silently for what seems like forever but is only a couple of seconds, and what brings you back to your senses again is the feeling of Erik pulling your skirt up.

“No wait!” You squeal, kicking your legs in an attempt to go free again.

He ignores you and pulls it up anyway, leaving your black lace panty covered ass on display. You whimper and struggle again, but it’s futile, so you give up, slumping against him.

Your breath hitches when his fingers are suddenly against your clit, your panties the only thing blocking him. You want to yell at him and ask him what he’s doing, but what leaves your mouth is a keen of need instead. His fingers don’t move much, just pressing slightly over and over again, and he’s so quiet, you don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it.

Erik watches as your thighs spread open more, as if inviting him. That, and the sound of his name slipping from your lips in an airy, hungry tone snap him back to reality. His hand moves and your skirt is pulled back down.

Your hands are realeased and your pushed back up. Your eyes try to meet his, but he’s doing everything to avoid yours. You stare at him for a moment, your hands fidgeting, and as you open your mouth to comment on what just happened, Reggie’s voice fills the back.

“We’ve arrived, Madam.” He says.

You glance out the window and see people walking in and out of the building you reside in. This is usually a normal sight, but what makes a frown of confusion and curiosity slip onto both yours and Erik’s face is the fact that some of these people are obvious law enforcement while others have the word ‘coroner’ in large yellow print on the back of their navy jackets.

Your door opens and you startle, then you notice Erik had exited and was opening up your door for you. Your eyes meet his. His deep brown pools capture you in their gaze and for a moment, you’re distracted by the havoc moving in and out of the building you live in. You distinctly see his lips move and your snapped back to reality.

“What?” You ask stupidly.

Erik holds back a smile and repeats himself. “I said come out the car Jamilah.”

You nod and step out unto the side walk, then turn towards your building where a line of freaking yellow tape is being drawn. Your eyes widen and you walk towards the doors, only to be stopped by a cop.

“Um, sorry, but you’re gonna have to take your... business, elsewhere Hon.” He says, his eyes on your cleavage the whole time.

You feel your blood boil at the assumption that your a prostitute. What made it all the more upsetting is that you weren’t even dressed like a working girl normally would. This was an expensive ass dress that met the top of your knees. The assumption was based clearly off the color of your skin and that made you wanna rip this pigs head off. You open your mouth to speak but your stopped when Erik takes a step next to you.

“She lives here.” He plainly explains, his eyes trained on the cop with a glare that would freeze hell.

The cop barely holds back his scoff, but his eye roll makes it clear that he doubts your residence. You stare at the cop, arms crossing ass you prepare to tear him a new one, but your interrupted.

“Madam! What is happening here? Officer, let her in right this instant!” Timothy, the manger of said establishment berates, ushering the cop away from the entrance in order to let you in.

The officers shock couldn’t be more apparent, and an ugly hue of pink rises to his face, further reddening his already flushed tone. Erik visibly holds back his words, his jaw working away as he grits his teeth in rage. His hand finds its way to the dip of your back as he turns to walk in but you stop. You turn to the officer who stares at you in distaste and you pull out a card from your purse. You hand it to him and with a sneer, you tell him to expect a call from that number. You turn and walk away heading for the front desk with Erik in tow, and behind you, you miss the blood drain from the officers face as he reads the number of the city’s mayor.

The desk worker smiles and immediately attends to you, walking back to bring you your mail. Meanwhile, you watch the chaos around you. At the bar, not so far from where you and Erik are standing, different people do different tasks, dusting for prints, bagging what appears to be eveidence of some sort, talking animatedly. You listen in on a conversation a waiter is giving to what seems to be a detective.

“- and he just starts convulsing. First, I thought he was having a fit or something, but then the foaming at the mouth turns red and soon he’s just choking on his own blood. Everyone that had run to help him panics thinking it was ebola or some shit like that. Fucking scared the hell out of me, that’s for sure. I ran to the kitchen like my ass was on fire.” He explains animatedly.

“And did you notice anything unusual?” The detective asks, jotting notes.

“Nah. Like I said, ass on fire.” He finishes with a shrug.

“Here’s your mail ma’am.”

You turn back to the desk clerk and collect your mail, sifting through it as you turn away from her. You walk towards the elevators and for a while on your way up, you forget that Erik is even there. That is of course until you get to your room.

You look up when you hear a throat clear. You glance at him and register that he’s been there the whole time. Then of course, flashes of what happened in the car come flooding your mind and if you were pigmented challenged, you’d be a bright red color.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well.” He says.

“Um yeah.” You reply, and you mentally curse yourself for being so dry.

The silence following is slightly awkward. You break it.

“What was that in the car?” You ask, suddenly brave.

Erik balks, not expecting the question, but he quickly answers.

“Honestly, you pissed me off.” He says, nonchalant in a way that aggravates you.

“So that makes you think it’s okay to put your hands on me?” You hiss, frown forming on your face.

He scoffs and crosses his arms. He takes a step towards you and the effect is instant. You stiffen and basically break your neck to maintain eye contact. Erik gazed down at you with a look so intense, you can’t help the shuddered sigh that leaves you. His dimples come out to dazzle, a little smirk forming on his lips.

“Baby, if I was putting hands on you, you’d know.” He speaks deeply, and though there’s no reason for you to take this in a filthy way, that’s all that you hear and it’s sets you on fire.

You stutter as you attempt to answer but he takes a step back, still smirking. He presses in the button for the lobby.

“Goodnight Jamilah.”

Just as you were about to speak, the elevator door closes in your face, and you left in the silence of your apartment.

“Huh.”

[archeriexriverdale]

Riverdale Review 02X02 !!

Is it just me or did it feel like we had to wait a long ass time for the second episode 😂😂. I think it's cause last ep was left on a Cliff hanger so ep 2 felt like a thousand years away but whatever 😂😂. This is my whole summary of the episode . . Archie has a gun now... 🙃👁 I know this circus will only end badly cause he almost beat up reggie (who was stupid to arrive in a ski mask btw like...the fuck) so I have a terrible feeling the idiot is gonna 'accidently' shoot someone and get arrested or something 😂😂 it's madness...BUT if it means his gonna protect himself ok then. . Betty is a straight B.O.S.S 😎😎 seeing as Cheryl was on some stupid shit to her last season. Betty decided that she ain't gonna b a pushover anymore and said what's up 😂😂 loved that scene! . Speaking of...why was Cheryl wearing a sexy bra and panties under her school clothes like....where is she even going 😂😂 I'm not complaint but 😍 chill lmao. . Hermione was one of my fav parents next to Fred last season cause she seemed the less crazy and problematic but I found out that is not the case...Hiram makes her so fucking stupid and don't see sense I'm GLAD Fred didn't stay with her. She's a a bitch and deffo on my shit list... . I'm happy hiram is trying to build bridges with Veronica again...but then he continues to lie to her and it's just....I dunno. He just seems so fricking shady. I'm glad Veronica has her gang cause if I was her I would go crazy in that mad house. . New Reggie is AMAZING!! 😍😫 he is exactly ! Like the new comic book reggie with his hair, looks, aura and every glorious fuck boi about him is amazing (don't get me wrong I love and miss old Reggie) but this is suits the part like a glove...I bet all those losers that said 'not my reggie' look so fucking stupid rn 😂😂 . Also WHY DID THEY KILL KEVIN EX?! Like why?? I loved him! I mean we saw him in the pilot so he was the real OG...poor Kevin. He was a really good guy....it's gonna f him up big time . Also WHERE TF WAS VALERIE PLEASE?!?! 'Stomach virus?!' By do the writers hate her so much that she is now not featured in episodes ?! 😫😫😫😫 I'm done. . Alice needs to get up off her high horse about the serpents cause she was one and (theory) I think she is salty cause fp did something to break her heart or something that's why she is acting all high and mighty but it needs to stop 😂😂😂😂🙃🙃 Overall! And ok episode I HOPE! Non of the pussycats are next or the main cast (especially Reggie cause he was the one who is a drug dealer so I hope that don't make him a target 😫😫😫😫) and finally (even though knowing my luck it would b near the end of the season) I WANT TO SEE PAST ALICE AND FP PLS 😂😂😂 and the new serpents! Like come on!! Lol.

[toosicktoocare]

Ya girl is combining 3 prompts in one! Sorry these sat so long, loves! (But just in time for Riverdale to finally come back on tonight!)

It wasn’t a surprise that Archie and Jughead got sick at the same time considering they share a room now, but it sucked horribly all the same.

The two spent the morning alternating from the bathroom and the bedroom, and Fred was hesitant to leave the two alone for the day. But Archie and Jughead had both assured that they would live until he got home.

Fred set up three different times that he would call and check in before reluctantly departing for work, leaving the two boys in a tangle of blankets on the couch.

“I hate you,” Jughead muttered through chattering teeth as he pulled one of the blankets tighter around his trembling frame. His head was splitting in two, and despite the fever reducers Fred offered him, he couldn’t stop shivering. He was quite confident that this was what death felt like, and Archie seemed like the plausible person to blame.

“This isn’t my fault,” Archie countered through clenched teeth. His stomach was churning violently, and each word was a struggle to get out over the bile slowly clawing up his throat. The nausea left him sweating buckets, but he, too, felt chilled to the bone.

“No, it’s fucking Reggie’s fault, and who hangs out with Reggie?” Jughead turned, jabbing a shaking finger against Archie’s chest. “You.”

Despite Jughead’s teasing tone, Archie’s heart clenched at the words. “Sorry,” he muttered. He hunched forward, blankets pooling around his waist, and braced his hands atop his knees as a slow, strong wave of nausea washed over him.

“You okay?” Jughead sat forward, brows creased in worry as he placed a hesitant hand on Archie’s trembling back.

Archie quickly shook his head. He clamped one hand over his mouth as he got to his feet and staggered toward the bathroom. The halls tilted with each heavy step, but he just made it, collapsing hard to his knees and heaving into the toilet.

His muscles felt like lead, but his head felt light, and he had to grip the rim of the toilet to keep from toppling over as wave after wave of nausea pulsed through him.

A gentle hand rubbed up and down his back for minutes on end until he had nothing left in his stomach. “I’m gonna kill Reggie,” he muttered, voice echoing back at him from inside the toilet.

Jughead laughed, which morphed into a harsh cough fit that left him turning away and coughing into his shoulder. “You and me both,” he wheezed out in between coughs.

Archie flushed the toilet then stood up on shaking legs. He grabbed Jughead’s elbow, pulling the latter to his feet as well. He could feel the heat through the hoodie Jughead had on, and he frowned.

When Jughead finally caught his breath and looked up, Archie pressed a palm to his forehead, frown deepening. “You’re really burning up, Jug. It doesn’t feel like the medicine has done anything.”

Jughead shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself as strong shivers coursed through him. He definitely felt the opposite of burning, but he knew it was the fever. He tended to get worryingly high fevers when sick; he wasn’t sure why, but it almost always happened, even with a simple common cold. His immune system wasn’t the best to say the least.

Archie draped an around Jughead’s shoulders, rubbing his hand up and down the latter’s arm to generate what warmth he could offer as the two stumbled back into the living room.

The couch had never looked all that appealing to the two, but right now, it looked like a concrete version of heaven. The duo were quick to snuggle back underneath the blankets, falling asleep almost instantly.

*****

Fred crashed through the front door, heart hammering hard against his chest. He had called both Archie and Jughead at their first, scheduled call, but neither answered. Logically, he knew the two were probably asleep, but that couldn’t chase away the panic that came with being a parent.

He bolted into the living room, skidding to a halt at the sight before him. Archie and Jughead were asleep, curled around each other with multiple blankets burying them.

He would’ve let them be, but Jughead’s face was pinched as if in pain, and one cool palm to the boy’s forehead told him why.

“Jughead,” he whispered, gently shaking the latter’s shoulder. The jostling woke Archie, and Fred nodded toward Jughead with raised brows.

“Jug,” Archie tried, voice thick with sleep. He felt sticky with sweat and blindly kicked some of the blankets away as he shook Jughead’s shoulder.

“Why?” Jughead muttered, teeth loudly clacking together. “I’m freezing.”

Archie sat up fully, frown matching his father’s. He moved to push the blankets back over Jughead, but his father held up a hand.

“Don’t. His fever is too high. He doesn’t need all of those.”

Archie shifted his gaze from his father’s furrowed brows to Jughead’s shivering form. He gnawed lightly at his lower lip just as his father pressed a palm to his forehead.

“Jesus, Arch. You’re just as warm as him.”

The concern coloring Fred’s tone was enough to catch Jughead’s attention for he cracked an eye open. “You okay, Archie?”

Archie fell back against the couch, rubbing gingerly at his temples. “Yeah,” he breathed out. His head was pounding, and there wasn’t an inch of skin that wasn’t boiling.

“You two are a mess,” Fred sighed before starting towards the kitchen to get more medicine.

“Archie, please give me the blankets back,” Jughead moaned, and Archie thought about it. Jughead looked miserable, but if his fever was bad enough to leave his father that worried, he didn’t want to risk it.

“I’m sorry,” Archie muttered, tugging at his collar with one hand and fanning himself with the other. He’d trade places with Jughead in a heart beat, anything to get rid of the suffocating heat.

“I hate all of you,” Jughead whined, curling himself into a tight ball to harbor what little warmth he could manage since the Andrews were leaving him to freeze to death apparently.

“You’ll stop hating us when you live,” Fred answered as he walked back into the room with a bottle of pills and two waters.

Archie greedily accepted the water and the two pills handed to him, popping both into his mouth and gulping water down like his life depended on it.

“Easy, Arch. You’re going to end up throwing everything back up.”

Archie ignored his father’s requested up until the dull ache in his stomach flared into a full-blown cramp. “Kay,” he muttered, setting the bottle down onto the floor then easing himself down onto his side and pressing one arm hard against his stomach.

Fred sighed and shook his head before he turned to coax Jughead up into a sitting position. “I know,” he said softly as Jughead shivered hard. He had to keep a hold of the water bottle because Jughead was shaking too hard.

“This will hopefully help,” Fred reassured soothingly. Once Jughead swallowed both pills, he helped the boy lie back down but draped only one of the five blankets on the couch over him.

He looked back to Archie, noting the greenish tinge painting the boy’s face. “Are you going to be sick?” He questioned, eyeing around the room for a trash bin.

“Maybe,” Archie muttered before pressing his lips together tightly. His stomach was twisting and turning, but he didn’t want to throw up the medicine he’d just taken.

“Please don’t throw up on me,” Jughead muttered, pulling the one blanket up to his chin. God, he felt like he was covered in slick ice, and he wanted Archie’s strong, warm body back up against him, but he knew Fred wouldn’t allow it.

“What am I going to do with you two?” Fred asked, rubbing at his neck as he watched the two boys nodding off. He walked out of the room, snatching two dish towels from the kitchen and dampening them with cool water before starting back toward the living room.

In the two minutes he was gone, Jughead had managed to wedge himself in between Archie and the back of the couch, and Archie had rolled over onto his back to allow Jughead to use his chest as a pillow.

“Dammit,” Fred muttered, though there was no hostility within his tone. He draped one of the cloths over Archie’s forehead, and his son sighed deeply in response.

“Thanks,” Archie muttered, already half-asleep.

Fred couldn’t do much with the way Jughead’s face was angled, so he gently smoothed the other damp cloth over the boy’s forehead and down his cheeks.

Jughead shivered but didn’t pull away, and after a few more moments, Fred stopped once Jughead’s face relaxed and the shivering eased some.

He straightened his back, watching his two boys sleep soundly. He knew they were in for a long day, but he planned on being the hovering father until his boys were well again.