Ray Palmer (DC), Harrison Wells (DC), Cisco Ramon (DC), Erik Lehnsherr (Marvel), Logan Howlett (Marvel), Steve Rogers (Marvel), Dean Winchester (Supernatural), Sam Winchester (Supernatural), Castiel (Supernatural)
During High school I was one of those students who never really had to work for my marks, I had the uncanny ability to leave my assignment till the night before and still manage full marks that is ..till I got to university, my first year was a disaster I was barely passing my units I was stressed and depressed, what got me through high school was clearly not working in university. So to stop my second year in university from being a disaster as well and to save my gpa I decided to learn how to study from scratch! spoiler: It worked and my marks have tripled since I adopted these habits. So here are the things I started doing!
- I invested in school supplies that I NEEDED and not just for aesthetic, example I bought tons and tons of basic cheap notebooks because I knew I was going to do a lot of writing and things like flashcards. My rule of thumb was if its functional its perfect.
- I attended every lecture and every class no matter what the time was! This is essential as it saves time later when you are rushing around trying to catch up.
- I tried to stay up to date no matter what! Before I would let lecture after lecture pile up but ever since doing this, my study life has been much easier to cope with.
- UNDERSTANDING EVERYTHING YOU LEARN FROM THAT WEEK, I cannot stress how much this has helped me. If I am learning about a topic in week 5, I have to understand it fully in week 5, not when I am in finals week and stressing out. I use resources such as textbooks and the internet to help me understand or I will ask my teacher. The important thing is I understand it fully.
- Be organised! Know when you have an assignment due, there are so many ways to do this. Handheld planner, wall planner, phone reminders, there is apps such as my study life. Anything that will remind you to get started on the thing before it is too late.
- Review your notes weekly or fortnightly!!! Memory works by relearning, instead of cramming the night before exams, review weeks before.
- Break down your essays weeks before its due, you don’t have to start writing them right away but at least start thinking about them.
- Utilise any free time, for example instead of listening to music on my 45 min bus ride to uni I started listening to a psych podcast or doing my readings for that day.
- Have mental health days, I found out how difficult it is to study and how necessary it is to take breaks. Studying is stressful, have days/half days where you relax and look after yourself.
-Cut down on caffeine, I was a serial coffee addict, Im talking 4 shots a cup three times a day. Cutting down reduced my anxiety and got me sleeping more, which improved my mood and energy.
- Have a study buddy/group, find someone who is serious about their study and have study sessions with them, you get to study and have a social life.
- Find a study schedule that suits you, don’t feel pressure to get up at 5 am if you find it easier to study at 6pm.
- Have a study place, that you know you will study in! It can be your local library, your desk, your bed. Anything that you find will work for you!
The light blinded Claire as Murtagh pushed the door open, the sunshine streaming through the gap as she took her first steps towards the church, her heart thudding in her chest.
“Are ye truly ready, Claire?” Murtagh muttered as the pair stepped forwards.
Claire’s eyes saw the back of him before he’d even turned, and her breath caught in her throat.
“Uncle Lamb?” She whispered, almost in disbelief, “is that you?”
The greying older man turned, a wistful smile alight on his face as he took in his niece, his arms open as Claire bolted from Murtagh’s side and thrust herself against his chest.
“I never even –I didn’t *think*…” she sobbed, her face buried into the hollow of her wayward uncle’s neck as she tried to vocalise her thoughts.
“I came as soon as I heard, Claire,” Lamb began, a hint of apology in his tone, “I’m only sorry I wasn’t here for you during, you know, the turbulence with Franklin.”
Coughing, Murtagh raised his bushy brows in the direction of the church doors, “I’m sorry, Claire, but I think he’ll be waiting for ye…”
Twisting Claire around, Lamb reached out his hand to take Murtagh’s, a large grin lighting his face. “Ah, Mr Fraser, it’s so good to finally meet you!”
“Ye too, Mr Beauchamp. But now, I think puir Jamie might want to see us enter,” winking in Claire’s direction, Murtagh nudged the reunited Beauchamp’s towards the entrance, “we dinna want him to think we’ve escaped.”
Claire couldn’t keep the smile from her face as Quentin slid his arm through hers and led her to the end of the aisle. The congregation was minimal, just a few of Jamie’s and Claire’s workmates (including Glenna) but the moment she stepped foot inside the building Claire had her eyes set on one person, and one alone.
Jamie stood side on, with Murtagh freshly to his right, looking more dapper than she’d ever seen him. Trussed up with a brand new kilt with his hair slicked back, he looked so handsome that she could hardly believe he was hers.
“He’s a lucky man, Claire, my darling,” Lamb whispered in her ear upon seeing her gaze soften.
Passing her over, Lamb made sure to bow formally to Jamie, a coy glint in his eyes as he did so.
Hearing the message loud and clear, Jamie bowed back, placing his hand over Claire’s as he did so.
‘Look after her,’ it said, ‘look after her and never let her go.’
The ceremony itself went off without a hitch. Soon, Claire and Jamie had exchanged vows, an excited lilt to their combined ‘I do’s’ and the newlyweds were on their way –in a horse-drawn carriage no less– to the reception.
Murtagh and Glenna had stayed up most of the night decorating the tiny hall that Jamie had procured for the occasion. Fiddling with the last of the placemats, Glenna added Lambert Beauchamp’s nametag to the small head table, a rather large grin on her face as she did so.
“Yer doing a braw job there, Glenna,” Murtagh praised, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as he kissed her forehead, “how on earth did ye find the man, ye wee genius?”
“Ach!” Glenna returned, shaking her head at her friend, “it was nothing, truly. I just made some enquiries and there he was all of a sudden, listed in one o’ those journal things, Quentin Lambert Beauchamp,” elbowing Murtagh softly she clicked her tongue at him in satisfaction, “which is why ye and Jamie couldn’t find the lad. He isna simply listed as ‘Lambert’.”
“I told ye, Mrs Fitz,” he replied, using the name the bairns gave to her, “a wee miracle worker!”
“…and don’t I ken it weel,” she joked, her hands running over the cream tablecloth, smoothing out the remaining ruffles, “what would you all do wi’out me, eh?”
Outside the hall, Jamie stood watching as Claire twirled *his* wedding ring around her middle finger, a tiny red mark appearing as she pushed it against her skin.
“Ye look so bonnie today, Claire *Fraser*,” he cooed, his eyes tearing a little at the memory of their wee ceremony.
“You don’t look half bad yourself, Jamie Fraser.”
Her smile was radiant as he plucked her from the carriage and placed her down on the tarmac drive leading into the hall. Balloons decorated the outsides, their names plastered in big, bold letters on the biggest banner Claire had ever seen.
“How on earth did they pull all this off without me knowing?” Claire sighed, her voice full of awe and wonder. “*And* to have my uncle here! I’m…well,” she stammered, her cheeks burning red with happiness, “speechless.”
“Weel,” Jamie whispered, nipping at her ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist, “I think it might have had something to do wi’ me, aye?”
“You think a lot of yourself, don’t you…” Claire returned, a light jest to her words as she swayed to and fro in the evening air, her eyes closed and her head leaning back against Jamie’s shoulder as she enjoyed the peace.
Standing in her wedding gown, Claire couldn’t help but relive those early moments over and over again in her head.
All of those nights, frequenting that same coffee bar with no knowledge of Jamie’s investment in her presence. So many cups she’d drained with a heavy heart, paying no mind to the stranger who would eventually pluck up the courage to make the first move, the move that had brought them here.
Realising the motions she’d set in place with the removal of her wedding ring that fateful night, Claire reached a shaky hand towards her face and wiped a stray tear from her eye.
“What’s wrong, mo nighean?” Jamie crooned, his voice low and sweet.
“I just realised how much I owe you, James Fraser.” She whispered in reply, her lips quivering as she spoke, her throat dry as she tried not to ruin her precise make-up with yet more tears.
“Ye are a daft one, sassenach,” Jamie continued, his arms gripping her tighter now as he began to walk her closer to the reception hall. “Do you not know? It is I who owes you, Claire Fraser.”
Smiling, Claire twisted herself, turning to face Jamie.
His eyes were the most vibrant blue, the sunlight catching them, causing the faintest glimmer of yellow and green to merge in the middle where iris met pupil. He was stunning.
Jamie blinked slowly, allowing Claire her calming moment as he tilted his head to the left, cementing this moment in his brain as accurately as he could. She had fallen into his life a mess of curls and warm words. A broken lass just desperately in need of something on he could provide for her. And she, in return, had blessed him with the type of companionship and love that was present only within her.
“Should we…?” Claire broached, tipping her head towards the door in an almost silent gesture that suddenly pulled Jamie from his thoughts.
Remembering where they were –finally, both Jamie and Claire took one deep breath and readied themselves for the welcome that would await them inside.
“Aye, my bride,” he replied, squeezing her hands gently, “I think we should make an appearance.”
Slamming the hotel door behind them, Jamie had Claire at his mercy in seconds, his lips fused to hers as he held her hands over her head and kissed her into submission.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long, Mrs Fraser,” he gasped, pulling away for only a minute as she pulled herself forward, aching to have his mouth on hers, not caring too much about what he was saying.
“Me too…” she returned, her fingers twitching against the painted wood. “So don’t make me wait, Mr Fraser.”
The party had gone on into the wee hours. The DJ had played the setlist as instructed and the guests had all danced the night away, their hearts full of love and their bellies full from the buffet.
In those few short hours, Murtagh and Lamb had become fast friends.
Claire smiled as Jamie’s lips bruised hers, a punishing kiss that had her straining…and wanting. But those few glimpses of their wedding party crept through the building lust, making her chest tight with gratitude.
“Come back to me, Claire,” Jamie begged, sensing her lapses in attention as he rocked his body softly against hers.
Fluttering her eyes open, Claire panted as she filled her lungs with air once more, her mind solidly on Jamie now. Her heart raced as she saw how enamoured he was, his gaze dark as he rested his forehead against hers, taking the chance to breath himself.
Suddenly the prospect of seeing Jamie fully naked hit her and she gulped in a large breath of air.
Jamie smirked, watching intently as her pupils dilated and her hips swayed slowly closer to his. No matter the temptation they’d been accosted by, both Jamie and Claire had decided to wait until this night before actually *sleeping* together, choosing instead only to indulge in –heavy petting–.
Pulling herself back into the present, Claire’s mind, overwhelmed by the myriad of images currently pummeling her, chose to focus in on her last sexual encounter. Immediately her cheeks flooded, the redness spreading down her neck as she tried to force the memory away.
“Not here.” She whispered, the subtle twinges of careless embarrassment gaining purchase, uninvited and unbidden.
“Ye didna think…” Jamie returned, his brows creasing as he noted her sudden change. Biting his lip, he refrained from making comment on the blush that had taken root across her face.
“Claire, I said come back to me…no’ reappear briefly and then go away again,” he joked, thinking the unthinkable name, his smile coaxing Claire forward, away from the door and towards the bed. “I love ye, Claire, mo nighean donn,” he murmured, holding his hand out to her and bringing her slowly onto his lap, “yer my wife, we have one another…we will always have one another.”
Leaning her forehead against his, Claire expelled all of the stale air from her lungs.
Jamie. His clear blue eyes bore into hers as she pulled at the buttons along the side of her dress. The shoulder of her dress slid along her smooth skin, revealing the long line of her neck as she shimmied out of the delicate fabric.
Jamie held his breath as the silk fell, watching and waiting as her pale cream bra became exposed.
“Beautiful,” he sighed, his eyes flickering from her face to her chest as he slipped his fingers along the soft planes of the sides of her and up along the ridges of her spine. Clasping the latch of her bra, he pulled together his thumb and finger, freeing the metal that held her breasts captive…freeing her of so much more than simply cotton, lace and metal.
“You’re biased,” she retorted, a hint of humour in her voice as she bounced gently, her knees digging further into the mattress. The inside of her thighs shifted the course material of his kilt as she pulled herself free of the restraint.
“Biased I may be,” Jamie replied, his head falling forward, taking advantage of Claire’s new position, “but, sassenach…I amne wrong, aye?”
HIs tone was low, the deep baritone of his voice rumbling through her from head to toe as he spoke quietly but clearly.
Opening his mouth at the opportune moment, Jamie slipped his tongue along the ripples of her pert flesh, taking her nipple into his mouth as he listened to the faint mewling sound that fell from her lips at the sustained contact.
Scrunching her eyes closed, Claire let her head loll backwards, her hair falling in waves over Jamie’s hands where they lay clasped behind her back – holding her chest against his lips.
“You still have far too many clothes on…” she moaned, licking her dry lips as her shaky fingers ran along the length of the collar of his dress shirt, “I want you, Jamie, I really want you…naked and beneath me.”
Clutching his fists together, Jamie exhaled a jagged breath before flipping Claire onto her back and hovering over her prostrate form.
Running his fingers along the front of his shirt, he toyed with the buttons, teasing as Claire watched through hooded lids. Her hair had fanned out naturally above her head during the move and her curls lay tangled across the hotel pillows, silver and brown combined, glinting delicately in the pale evening light as it filtered in through the curtains, the wind keeping them eerily afloat.
“Sae beautiful ye are, Claire.” Jamie crooned as he stripped, throwing his shirt and kilt into a pile with her wedding dress.
Smirking, Claire reached up. Dragging her finger along his chest she tried her best to keep her eyes level with his, but the sprinkling of hair that dusted the lower half of his tummy called to her. She’d felt him, they’d been close…but seeing him was another matter.
Taking her hand, Jamie massaged her palm delicately as if to encourage her. Seeing the want in her eyes as she blinked slowly, he urged her on with a nod.
One glance was all it took, one short longing look downwards, and Claire was lunging forward, her hands coming up to grip Jamie’s bare arse as she forced him forwards.
Latching his mouth onto hers, Jamie caught himself just in time, his hands pushing deep into the soft pillows as his hips fell naturally between hers.
She really felt him then, the hard length of him nestled against her as he kissed her into oblivion. Feeling like she had her first time, Claire clenched her toes and wrapped her trembling thighs around his waist, anchoring him to her.
“I’m so grateful,” she gasped, angling her hips in preparation, eager to consummate their marriage as soon as possible. “That I found you, Jamie.”
“Same,” Jamie returned, his kiss stained lips breaking from her neck for just a moment, “Claire.”
Matching her movements, Jamie twisted himself a little to the side. His heart pounded out a maddening rhythm against his chest, the feel of it reverberating through every inch of him as if he were a livewire, sparking as it hit water and flaring before slapping against the cold, wet concrete.
He felt alive.
“You’re shaking,” she whispered, feeling his damp skin against her own, “are you scared, love?”
“No…yes,” Jamie sighed and laughed lightly, “I might be a wee bit scarit…o’ disappointing ye.”
“That won’t happen,” Claire soothed, urging him forward, her thighs pulling him closer and closer. “You could never *do* that.”
Gasping, both Claire and Jamie squeezed their eyes closed as Jamie thrust himself inside her, the feeling of it causing his hands to grip the pillows painfully as he arched his back, the droplets of sweat dribbling along each ridge of his spine.
“A-ah…” he half-whispered, half-moaned into Claire’s mouth as she lifted her shoulders from the mattress, eager to have his lips against hers.
Using her tongue, Claire drew intimate patterns against Jamie’s lower lip as he moved ever so slowly against her, the fine hairs on the base of her belly catching his thicker ones as they moved together. She could feel the muscles of his stomach tighten as he lowered himself against her, the plateau of his usually sculpted abdominals even more defined now as he hovered over her.
The intense pulsating feeling between her legs grew as Jamie inched his legs further apart, lowering himself so that he could push himself directly against her and then hold himself still for a moment, his eyes half open as he gasped and took her in. She could feel his gaze over every fibre of her, as if her body knew he was memorising every goosebump-covered particle of her flesh.
Smiling, she raised a shaky hand up to cup his perspiration coated jaw. Her eyes, glazed and half closed, glinted in the dim light of the room as she tightened her legs around his hips and ground herself against him.
Wordlessly, Jamie shuddered, almost launching forwards on his knees as he flopped his head backwards. His mouth fell open, but no actual sound fell from him
Claire could tell from his short, sharp movements and the position of his tense shoulders that he was close. Leaning herself backwards, she gently began to roll her hips, her soft motion causing the most delightful friction to begin to build between the two of them.
Understanding the silent messages of her body, Jamie steeled himself, forcing the almost instant need for gratification to the back of his mind as he mimicked her movements.
A sea of calm covered them both, lying cautiously over the thin sheen of sweat that covered them head to toe as the world suddenly stilled around them, almost as if time had come to a complete stand-still.
“You don’t have to…” Claire mumbled, his tone breathy and light,
“I do,” Jamie returned, answering her unspoken remark. Gripping the pillow, his fingers turning white where they delved deeper into the plush pillows at her head. Locking eyes, he nodded as she did as they felt, simultaneously, flashes of uncontainable carnality rush through them both.
Blinking, Claire felt her cheeks flood with heat as her heart picked up pace, her ribs vibrating with the pressure of it. She was almost certain that Jamie could hear the pounding beat as he lowered his forehead to hers and slid his hands across the slick fabric of the comforter to link with hers as the pressure built within them.
Boiling over, Jamie tensed and moaned, jerking himself against Claire until he could barely hold himself over her. Shaking, Claire waited, inhaling jagged breaths as his hips began to slow, resting just where she needed them to and pushing her over the edge as she cried out and slumped back against the aired sheets.
Rolling himself to the side, Jamie wrapped his arms around Claire, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shifted them both below the sheets, tangling his feet with her as she slowly but surely joined him in their love-drunk haze.
“I want to wash you,” Claire whispered, her hands roaming once more over his humid skin, her eyes barely open as she nuzzled against him.
“Aye?” Jamie replied, licking his lips as he shifted his weight, the idea sending a shot of pleasure through him.
“Yes…” she mumbled, “right after we nap…”
“Alright, sassenach,” he sighed, watching as she began to doze in his arms, “first sleep, then bath.”
Lying in the bath, the water swished gently around them as Jamie slowly washed Claire, his hands roaming across her submerged belly.
Leaning forward, Claire leaned her arms onto her elbows, letting him run the sponge over her back, washing the sweet perfume from her skin. Out of nowhere, two cold droplets ran down her spine causing her to sit up a little straighter. Ignoring it, Claire wrote it off as her imagination.
Jamie’s hands seemed to moved slower as more cold drips hit Claire’s warm flesh. Holding herself still, Claire took an internal breath, keeping her ribcage steady as she breathed through her nose and out again.
“Jamie,” she whispered, her lips shaking as she massaged the back of his hand with her own. Feeling his muscles clench beneath her palm, Claire twisted her head a little to glance at him out of the corner of her eye.
Swallowing, she saw a stray tear roll down his cheek as he dipped his head closer to the top of her exposed shoulders.
“I love ye, Claire,” he sighed, his heated breath fanning over her, ruffling the damp locks of her hair.
Slowly, turning her hips as carefully as she was able, Claire moved to face him, her legs sitting either sit of his in the tub.
Silently she reached her hand out and laid her palm against his wet cheek, the warmth of it seeping through her already heated skin.
His face was red, a bright crimson that wasn’t solely indicative of the hot water surrounding them.
Claire’s eyes softened as she took in her husband.
Husband. The word sent a jolt of pleasure through her as she bent forward to kiss away Jamie’s tears. Salt coated her mouth as she sighed softly against him, her heart thudding dully in her chest.
“I’m here Jamie,” she soothed, her fingers brushed lightly against the thin smattering of hair that had grown along the bottom of his jaw throughout the day. The tense set of his shoulders relaxed as she spoke, her touch causing his fears to dissipate. “I love you too.”
For a moment they say quietly, the water cooling around them as Claire held Jamie close. He desperately wanted to talk to her, to tell her how much her commitment to him meant but the words simply wouldn’t come. His ‘I love you’ was all he could vocalise for the moment.
Thoughts of his sister swirled around him in the damp mist of the hotel bathroom as his imagination brought her back to life. Apart from Murtaghs’ companionship, he had been alone for such a long time that now that a small part of him harboured such a deep-seated fear of loss. In the space of a few months all of his family and been taken from him, and now, since he’d been afforded a second chance, there was a tiny voice that suddenly lived inside of him –mumbling a number of incredulous ideas. He knew they were unlikely to occur, he’d been tested for the cancer gene that had been present in Ian. But since Ian wasn’t in anyway a direct relative, both Jenny and himself had been cleared.
The sound of distant humming brought him from his morose thoughts and Jamie suddenly became aware of himself. He was sobbing, the force of his shuddering rocking the water in the bath so that some of it splashed over the edges and onto the tile floor.
“Hush now,” Claire sing-songed, breaking from her tune to calm him as much as she was able. “How about we go to bed?”
Running her fingers through the greying hair at his temple, Claire wiped the moisture away, once more, from his eyes, kissing him softly as she rose from the bath and offered him her hand.
“Let me care for you, Jamie,” she broached, trying to coax him back to her, “for once, let me look after you, yes?”
“Aye.” He returned, a distinct crack of emotion in his voice, “take me to bed, Claire.”
Pulling back the sheets, Claire led Jamie towards their marital bed, ignoring the faint drip-drop of the bath water as it slid from both of their skin as they padded across the plush carpet to the large king sized bed.
Tilting her head to the side, Claire indicated to Jamie to get in. He obeyed, curling himself under the duck-down duvet, the softness of the sheets allowing him to slide in with ease. Following suit, Claire folded herself around Jamie, twinning her legs with his and wrapping her arms around his waist as they settled themselves.
It was warm under the covers, almost too warm, but Jamie didn’t mind. Guided as he was by the position of Claire’s body, he didn’t much mind the heat as it set him alight.
Leaning her forehead against his, she quietly moulded her lips to his, kissing him softly as she turned out the bedside lamp. In the background, a gurgling filled the large master suite, the plug spitting back out the water it couldn’t feasibly drain.
Jamie laughed, the sound of the emptying bath disturbing the peace of the moment.
Claire smiled as she watched him, the years just dropping from his face as he finally shed the last of the tension he’d been holding in.
“Welcome home, love.” She cooed, nuzzling his nose with hers and pecking him slowly on the lips. His blue eyes shone in the dark of the room, the moonlight flooding the room as the pair drank in the sight of the other, reinvigorated from their busy day.
A spark of light glimmered behind Claire’s eyes as she ran the flat of her hand along the expanse of Jamie’s back, feeling every wee bump along the length of his spine as she slowly investigated every inch of his bare skin.
Jamie held his breath as she explored. Hair grew more prevalently now, thicker on his chest and thighs than it had done in his twenties and thirties. He liked it. He’d always felt a little scrawny in his youth, his shoulders not quite wide enough. But now, as he’d entered his forties, he’d filled out. The build up of muscle finally cementing itself over his ample chest. True, he’d put a little weight on his tummy, but if anything it just matched the rest of him.
Claire too was changed. Her hips were probably wider, her breasts a little fuller. Jamie glanced downwards, taking a wee keek at her as she looked back up at him, her lids half closed, her amorous gaze falling solely on him.
“You are sae beautiful, mo nighean donn,” he purred, his voice soft as the finest velvet, “the way the silver glows in yer hair wi’ the white light of the moon, takes my breath away.”
Claire blushed, his complement causing the blood to rise to the surface.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she returned, her hips meeting his under the covers as she cuddled up against him, skin to skin.
Jamie buried his nose in her wayward curls, inhaling the scent of the remains of her perfume as the slid together beneath the covers, the thick blanket shielding them from the world.
Together they fell asleep, Jamie’s faith in their union burning brighter than ever before as Claire rocked him gently. He couldn’t love her again just yet, their lust filled entrance to the bridal suite still glowing just under the surface of them both as their breathing evened becoming shallow in sleep.
“Dream of me, Jamie,” Claire sighed, her hushed whisper echoing around the room as she snuggled closer, “because I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
Safe in the arms of the other, Jamie and Claire drifted steadily out of consciousness. On the bedside table, the ink of their recently signed marriage license dried slowly, its dark fluid staining the parchment and sealing their combined names; eternally tattooed onto the sturdy paper. A solid reminder of the vows they’d taken, of the future they’d secured for one another. More stable than the one Claire had signed before, Jamie was unconsciously convinced of its validity. His belief in fate –renewed.
AU where Jughead gets arrested for Jason’s murder instead of FP and takes the fall to save Betty and his father.
“You’re gonna plead guilty or your father and that blonde Cooper girl will face the same fate as my son.” Clifford spat out over the table, slamming him hands on the white metal surface. A glint of evil ignited in his eyes, a sickening grin cutting along his face. Jughead’s heart started to race, no one could save him now.
“Stay away from them.” Jughead cried uselessly, his voice soaked with pain. He tried escaping the locked cuffs around his wrists but it was no use. His whole life he’d never felt wanted. Always used and discarded like a piece of trash. His mother hated him, his friends didn’t trust him, no one did. Except Betty.
Betty was the only good thing in Jughead’s life. The only thing that made him think that maybe his life was worth living. She made him open up to her, she warmed the coldness of his heart. He could’ve spent hours just listening to her rambling on about new theories or her mother’s ridiculous behaviour. He could watch her sleep soundly for hours, seeming more angelic than even possible. Betty was the first thing he can remember loving.
With a waste of space father and a mother who abandoned him, clearly loving was no easy task. But with Betty it was like the feeling was always there and it was never pushed away. She was the only one who listened to him and stuck around to fix him. When he found it hard and thought she deserved better, she pushed back with just as much force until he landed in her arms. She was his entire world. And in no universe would he ever let her walk into any harm. How could he protect her?
“Goodbye Mr.Jones.” Clifford stood up and went to the door. He cracked it open slightly before turning around and saying “I hope you accept my offer. Too many innocent souls have been taken.” and with that he walked away. Deep down, Jughead knew what he had to do. Even if it meant never seeing her again, he wanted to to be safe. He’d rather have her alive and hating him than dead and loving him. He’d confess.
Sheriff Keller pressed stop on the video camera, clearing his throat and sitting down. He had a disappointed look on his face when he met the gaze of the criminal sat before him. Who would’ve thought a kid like this would kill? The answer was everyone, no one trusted the outcast.
“Jughead, you do realise this is set in stone now? There’s no going back. Not now, not ever. Did you kill the kid?” Keller begged, a small strand of him knowing this wasn’t the truth. Jughead looked distraught and in inner conflict. That’s not the face of a murderer.
His beanie-less black hair was tousled in all directions, heavy bags outlined his eyes making it clear he had no sleep. He wore the same clothes as the night before, a black suit with an untied baby blue tie that matched Betty Cooper’s dress. He must’ve been uncomfortable.
“Does it really matter? You’re gonna arrest me anyways. Why not plead guilty and make the sentence shorter.” Jughead nonchalantly stated, playing with his fingers to find any distraction that’ll take him away from this reality. All that played in his mind was the face Betty made when he was being crammed into the back of a cop car. It was as if she lost all hope.
“I’m sorry, Jughead. We’ll hold you in a cell until the court decide what to do. But it’s not looking good.” The Sheriff sighed before leading himself and Jughead out of the room, through the lobby and into a cell. Although, on the way, they both noticed some commotion in the hallway.
“What do you mean he confessed? I stole the files! I have them right here!” Shouted the voice of a man familiar to both Jughead and the Sheriff. They continued walking hastily, eager to find out what was going on. Approaching the scene, Jughead stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her.
“Please, just let me see him. I need to see him. He’s innocent!” Betty screamed, lunging for the officer but being held back by her father, Hal. Jughead noticed her hair wasn’t in her usual neat ponytail, instead it was scattered messily across her head, showing no signs of being sorted out since last night. Tears cascaded violently across her face, her eyes bloodshot and weighed down from lack of sleep. Instead of wearing the dress from the night before, she had changed into black jeans and one of Jughead’s many “S” shirts that Betty had “borrowed”. Before he could look anymore, he was being tugged past her and into a cell.
“I’m sorry Betts.” Was all he could get out before Keller dragged him away. Started to sob more and reach for him but it was too late. He was gone. No one was letting her see him, she had nothing to do.She felt nothing. Numbly, she got to her feet and stormed out of the station. Adamant to prove her boyfriend was innocent. She would never stop.
“You have a visitor, Jones.” announce the cop stationed by Jughead’s cell. Jughead never bothered to learn their names, he had no care for anything anymore. He usually just sat and cried in his cell, waiting for the time to go around. The weeks passed and the time went around but it still wasn’t right. He was still alone. The court dates keep getting pushed which only extends his time away from Betty.
“Juggie?” A soft voice broke through the silence. His heart skipped almost a thousand beats, shaking him from his deep thought. He raced to the bars of his cell, seeing the golden goddess before him. He pictured her face everyday, waiting for this moment to come. She looked a lot better than he last saw her, but still not the same. She noticed how frail and weak he looked, as if he’d not been eating. And he hadn’t. Heartbreak often does that to a boy.
“Betts. What’re you doing here.” He masked his happiness with a face of worry and disappointment. She was going to get hurt if she came too close. He couldn’t have that. “I told you not to wait for me.” A tear slid down his face, this was more painful than before because she just kept coming back.
The day after he’d been put in the god forsaken cell, Betty had come. She begged for the truth and promised to get him out, his heart breaking more and more at the sight. He told her not to come back, not the wait for him. He told her the murder board was all lies to hide the truth. That he, Jughead Jones, killed Jason Blossom. She knew he was lying. She could always tell. So she masked hurt and left, swearing to never step a foot near him again.
What he didn’t know was that she could hear his raspy voice breathe a small “wait for me” as she left the room. His voice was thick with emotion and cracked slightly. She knew he was crying. Which made her more sure he was innocent. So she carried on trying to prove that. And when she found the tape of Clifford shooting Jason. She went straight to Keller with a smile on her face.
“Clifford Blossom killed himself. He wrote a note, admitting to threatening you, setting you up and admitting to killing his son.” Betty stepped closer to the bars, setting her hand on one. She silently hoped to touch Jughead just once, she had missed everything about him. Though, right now, he was frozen in shock. Was he really free?
“Nancy Drew strikes again.” Kevin emerged from the hallway with a grin. Sheriff Keller following behind with a key to Jughead’s cell. He was still frozen in shock, but all he could focus on was Betty. She saved him. She never gave up on him.
When the cell opened, both teens flew at each other, craving even the smallest touch. They were wrapped up in each others arms and Betty swore as soon as his arms wrapped around her she found her home. There were consequences to come with Jughead’s actions, but at the moment nothing felt safer.
“I will always wait for you Jug. Always.” Betty breathed into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent she had missed for all of this time. Jughead let the flood gates open, sobbing violently into his girlfriend’s shoulders. He knew now that this was all life had been preparing him for. Truly appreciating that someone out there could believe in him.
“I love you.” He choked between sobs into the fabric of Betty’s shirt. Without any hesitation, she embraced the sides of his face, wiping away the tears before joining their lips. The kiss didn’t last long but it was full of raw emotion. Emotion they’d been having to lock up for weeks.
“I love you too.” She whispered against his lips, quickly pecking them once more before leading him into the lobby. His father waited there, looking cleaned up and sober? Jughead couldn’t believe the world he had walked out to.
“Dad!” He breathed, running to his father and hugging him tighter than ever. Had Betty just single-handedly saved the entire town? In this moment, Jughead made a promise to himself. He would do everything he could, for the rest of his life, to make Betty Cooper happy. He would marry her one day. That’s what he was sure of. And he did.
I hope you enjoyed that little prompt I was given! My asks are open if anyone wants to send in some ideas or feedback! Also if anyone just wants some advice or wants to talk! :) much love x
Your words came out slowly and with an under gruff tone. The morning after your birthday party wasn’t as festive and carefree as the night before. Instead, you woke up with a dry mouth and headache. Events of the night were mostly blurry or non-existent in your mind. Only recalling all the tequila you drank, the money you won and that you ended up in your apartment heavily drunk.
Sam scoffed with a small flat smile as he slid the hot coffee towards you. Inhaling the smell of brewed coffee made your insides flutter with joy. The smell of coffee being really satisfying in this moment of regret. Blowing air in order to cold the coffee before you took a small sip.
“Thank you,” you sighed placing the cup on the counter.
Sam nodded with a weak smile. “Babe?” he said softly catching your attention.
You watched him laid both hands above the kitchen counter. Something was off about him since both of you woke up this morning, being mostly silence and pensive. You gave Sam a nod with an arched eyebrow as answer instead asking what.
Sam clenched his jaw, “Do your remember anything that happened last night?”
Happy birthday to my dear Bobbie. You’re such a wonderful person, and through you I’ve met some of the most amazing people. I’ve felt a level of acceptance with you and the rest that I’ve never felt before, and I’m endlessly grateful for you and the whole group that you brought together. Here’s some almost-late soft Klance for your birthday. You’re my favourite non-binary Cuban babe <3
Keith had been planning this for weeks. Lance had mentioned his high school prom once almost six weeks ago, and Keith had tilted his head to the side, blinking owlishly at him. He knew what a prom was, of course. He lived in the desert, not a cave in the mountains. He’d opted out of his high school prom. His girlfriend had just broken up with him to go to the dance with some other guy, likely one her parents would adore. He didn’t remember being terribly heartbroken about not going to the dance.
But apparently Lance had not gone to his, though not through any choice of his own. He’d received a concussion while boxing and had been unable to attend, and he was apparently still bitter about it, if his whining was anything to go by. He mostly whined to Keith, since they were… sort of, almost dating. Maybe. Semantics, Keith thought. Lance knew that Keith only had eyes for him; he’d made it abundantly clear. Touched his hand at dinner that one night. Laughed at his joke about pineapples and baby aspirin (and it honestly had been funny, which was kind of the sad part). Put his head against Lance’s shoulder and actually dozed off just like that.
And yet Lance still hadn’t started with the grand theatrics he always howled about doing for anyone he was interested in back on Earth.
Keith looked up at the transformed training room, his fists planted on his hips.
“Try ignoring this, buddy,” Keith muttered to no one in particular. Hunk had helped him add solid, yet temporary, beams that went from wall to wall, intersecting at different points, leaving large gaps between them and sort of resembling perches in a bird cage. Hunk, coming through for Keith once again like the genius he truly is, rigged up string lights that they twined around the beams. He mixed up some Space Punch and tiny Space Sandwiches with tinier toothpicks in them. He smoothed Keith’s hair back and pulled it into a neat little ponytail, much more refined than the sloppy one Keith usually wore when he was training. Honestly, if Keith wasn’t already completely gone for Lance, he’d be trailing after Hunk like a lovestruck puppy. But all of this was for Lance.
There were no tuxedos in space, so Keith just made sure that his clothes were clean and neat. As clean and neat as three year old clothes that he wore every day could be, at least. Pidge had managed to keep Lance occupied all day with a video game, and was supposed to be sending him past the training room when she was done with him, where he would hear the sweet lyrics of ‘Can’t Fight the Moonlight’ filtering out from the open doors. Keith paced back and forth, nervous and gnawing on his lip. Hunk had assured him that Lance would love this, even more so since it was coming from him.
“Does that mean -” Keith began, blinking at Hunk.
“He does, he just doesn’t know he’s allowed to yet,” Hunk told him. That had been yesterday, and his words kept replaying in Keith’s head, over and over as he tried to work out how the fuck he’d manage to confess to Lance that he was in love with him and then somehow dance with him all night. Or maybe he’d dance all night and then confess? Would Lance even let him get that far, or would he try to get an explanation out of him before any dancing even happened? Keith really wanted to tug on his hair, but Hunk hurried into the room just then and swatted his hands away, looking excited.
“He just left Pidge’s room, he’s coming this way. Don’t mess up your hair now,” he chastised gently, smoothing a piece back. Keith looked up at him.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked in a small voice. Hunk chuckled at him.
“It’s a bit late for that, dude. It was your idea anyway, remember? But I am sure about it. I know Lance; he’s going to love it,” he assured. He gave Keith’s shoulder a squeeze and then hurried right back out and scuttled down the hallway. Keith waved his hand and pulled up a small holoscreen - he dimmed the lights and turned on the string lights that decorated the beams and ran along the floor in a large square, creating the illusion of a dance floor. Soft yellow-white light filled the room, and he pressed another button on the screen and the music started playing. Both Pidge and Hunk had confirmed Lance’s pure, unadulterated love for Coyote Ugly, so he decided to start with that.
Keith turned his back on the door, looking up at the beams and the twinkling lights wrapped around them, at the little table where the sandwiches and drinks were set up at. The longer he stared at it all, the more deflated he became. This was pathetic. A mockery of prom, really. He knew what prom was supposed to be like - bright, multicoloured lights, a live DJ, a few hundred sweaty, horny teenagers grinding on each other, limousines, smuggled booze, ripped condom packages on the bathroom floor. Photos and smiles for the yearbook. What was he even thinking? He didn’t even have a cell phone that he could take a picture with Lance on. He didn’t have a corsage! Lance would want a corsage! The flowers would look so good on his slender wrist and he didn’t even think to make one out of origami paper.
This was going to fail. Lance was going to laugh at him, and he’d just be consumed with heartbreaking, unrequited love for the rest of his days. They wouldn’t be able to form Voltron, and they’d kick Keith out for sure, exiling him to be with his own people (who hated him because he was a paladin, and they’d kill him on the spot).
“Keith? What’s all this?”
Keith whipped around, so fast he nearly over-rotated to spin in a complete circle. Lance was standing just outside of the square the lights on the floor formed. His eyes were wide, eyebrows nearly vanishing into his hairline as he gazed around the room, tilting his head back to look at the criss-crossing beams. He dragged his eyes back down to the small table of refreshments, and then finally settled on a fidgeting Keith.
“What is this?” Lance asked again, his voice curious and soft.
Keith took in the quiet confusion in his voice and on his face, absorbed the open wonder Lance had as he looked at all the work Keith and Hunk had put into this one night. That was all it took for Keith to unclench his fists and sigh.
“You… mentioned that you missed your prom because of a concussion. I didn’t go to mine by choice, ‘cause I’d just been dumped, but Shiro and Hunk and Pidge told me about what their proms were like and how much fun they had at them, and I just thought that maybe you’d like to experience prom? With me? Since neither of us went to ours,” he rambled. Lance blinked at him, his face carefully blank.
“I - what? This is prom?” he asked a little breathlessly. Keith flushed, looking away.
“I mean, sort of? It’s a little tacky, I didn’t have a lot to work with here -”
“Tacky? Are you kidding me? This is space prom, Keith, it’s already better than anything I could have gone to in high school!” Lance burst out excitedly. He jumped lightly over the lights, skidding up to Keith and grabbing at his hands. Keith felt heat flooding his cheeks, but he gripped Lance’s hands back just as tightly.
“So you’ll go to space prom with me?” he asked boldly. Lance grinned at him, flashing those beautiful white teeth, his eyes crinkling up boyishly.
“Yes!” Keith smiled back, and then dropped Lance’s hands. He waved one of his hands and brought up the holoscreen again, gesturing to Lance.
“Then pick a song, one you can dance to,” he said. With an excited little bounce, Lance navigated through the list of songs on the holoscreen and finally picked one with a happy gasp.
“Where did you get these? I haven’t heard these since we left Earth!” he said happily.
“Pidge is magic, I think,” Keith said with a chuckle. An upbeat rap song began playing, something about boys and cooling systems. Lance spun around, a smirk on his handsome face, and he grabbed Keith’s hand.
“You know how to dance?” Keith let Lance guide him to the center of the room, grinning.
“Absolutely not,” he said. Lance barked out a laugh, tossing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut in mirth, and Keith was sure that his pupils actually turned into little hearts. Lance turned around to face him again, dropping a hand to his shoulder and letting the other trail down his own body.
“Then just do whatever you feel like doing,” he said.
I want to shove you against a wall and kiss you for the next two years, if that’s okay, Keith thought, his eyes ziplining down to Lance’s hips as they began to move. His mouth dried up and his eyes widened as Lance’s body began to twist and snap in time to the music. His feet brushed across the floor, carrying him away from and then closer to Keith, dropping down and bouncing back up effortlessly, like he’d just been out at a nightclub the night before, instead of at peace talks with a new planet. Keith tried to mimic a few of Lance’s simpler dance moves, emboldened by the way Lance whistled at him.
Dark hands fell upon his waist, pulling them close together, and Lance began to grind on him, his body sinuous like a snake and moving like this was his job, instead of piloting a giant alien machine of war. Unsurprisingly, Lance was good at this, too. He seemed, to Keith, to be good at just about everything.
They danced through seven more songs before Lance stopped, threw his head back and laughed, sweaty and shining in the soft light. “This is amazing, Keith!” he exclaimed, holding onto Keith’s hand. Keith felt his chest swell.
“I’m - good. That’s good. I was worried that…” he trailed off. Lance furrowed his brow.
“Worried that it wouldn’t be good enough?” Keith nodded. Lance squeezed Keith’s hand, then threaded their fingers together. “Keith, I.. No one’s ever done anything like this for me. This is perfect.”
They stood close - close enough that Keith could have rocked forward on his toes and kissed him. He was tempted, so tempted. It would have been a good moment for it, so easy. But it wasn’t the perfect moment, and Keith would be damned if the rest of this didn’t go as perfectly as he’d planned.
“This hasn’t even been the best part,” Keith drawled teasingly. Lance raised an eyebrow in question, his lips quirking up in a smile. “Close your eyes.” Lance pursed his lips in a little pout, but acquiesced. Keith pulled up the holoscreen once more and dimmed the lights a little more. “Now, when I say jump, I want you to jump up, okay?”
“Weird, but okay,” Lance agreed. Keith poised his finger over a button on the screen.
“One - two - jump,” he instructed. Just as Lance’s feet left the ground, Keith pushed the button that turned off the gravity in the training room. Lance’s blue eyes flew open when his feet didn’t touch back down; he looked down at where he was hovering, and then back to Keith with a grin. Keith quickly put a song on play and grabbed Lance’s hands again, then pushed off hard from the floor, sending them up into the air. Laughter bubbled up out of Lance and Keith smiled at him as they sailed through the air, the music beginning to play around them.
“Dance with me,” Keith murmured, drawing Lance closer to him as they approached one of the light-covered beams. Lance blinked at him once in surprise, and then his face spread into a smile so wide Keith swore it could crack a star right in two.
“Charmer,” he whispered. Keith pulled him close, and as they neared a beam, he pushed against it with his foot, sending them coasting away through the air again. “Slow dancing with me in zero g’s? You’re smooth, Red.” Keith smiled, tucking his chin onto Lance’s shoulder, because that’s where he fit after Lance’s (hopefully final) growth spurt last year.
“One look at you, my whole life falls in line,” Keith murmured quietly, speaking the lyrics of the song that Pidge had frantically told him was “so obviously the only song for you two”. He couldn’t sing, wouldn’t want to try to because that would definitely drive Lance away, but he could at least sort-of hum decently. Lance tensed up in his arms, but relaxed by the time the violin began to play. He heard him gasp, felt a hand leave his waist - if Keith had to guess, he’d probably figure that Lance was very dramatically covering his mouth. Keith smiled, because it was such a Lance thing to do, and he loved it.
“Whatever may come, your heart I will choose,” he hummed. “Forever I’m yours, forever I do.”
Lance’s arms suddenly tightened around his waist, and Keith’s breath hitched in his throat, choking a little on the last note he’d sung so quietly. They brushed against another beam, and Keith gently kicked them away from it; their bodies spiraled a little as they moved away from it. Lance bent his head down and Keith could feel his breath leaving between his teeth against his hair.
“Are you -”
“Shut up, Lance,” Keith huffed, a smile spreading across his face. Lance chuckled, and Keith felt his hand leave his waist and tug at his own elbow. Lance maneuvered them until he had Keith’s hand in his, and he laced their fingers together.
“Okay, okay. Serenade me, Red,” he whispered. He squeezed Keith’s hand, rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin not covered by his gloves. Reassured by Lance’s reaction, he tightened his grip around the blue paladin’s waist again, and was further encouraged by the feel of Lance wiggling against him to get closer.
“The way you love, it changes who I am,” Keith murmured.
“This is really happening,” Lance whispered. Keith could hear the smile in Lance’s voice, and if he hadn’t already been flying, he felt like this could have given him wings. “Oh my god, Keith-”
“I can’t believe it’s true. I get to love you, it’s the best thing that I’ll ever do,” Keith hummed. Lance sort of spasmed against Keith then, gripping his hand almost too tightly.
“Screw the song,” he muttered in a rush. Lance pulled back just enough to put half a breath between them, only to lean in and press his lips to Keith’s. There was a fleeting thought of but the song is kinda nice before Keith allowed his eyelids to flutter shut and kissed Lance back.
Lance’s lips were wildly soft, and honestly, Keith expected that. He didn’t expect Lance to be quite so good at kissing, though - he kind of thought that maybe all of that bravado would be just an act, or a front to hide his inexperience. Nope, no, he was being proved very wrong as Lance’s lips slanted against his at the most spectacular angle, smirking just enough to draw Keith’s lips into a soft pucker. The hand that held his released it and moved up to cradle the side of his face, and Keith clutched at Lance’s waist, fingers flexing into his shirt.
Keith couldn’t help the happy groan that escaped his throat, and Lance responded favourably, chuckling softly into the kiss and licking plaintively at his lips. Keith opened under him immediately, sighing gently and wrapping his tongue around Lance’s. Despite the heat that pooled in his belly, the kiss was still so innocent to Keith. He could live and die in that moment and be perfectly okay with it all.
When Lance pulled back, his eyes were bright and narrowed in a wide grin, his cheeks were flushed, and Keith thought there wasn’t a more beautiful sight in any galaxy he’d ever been to.
“Is this your way of asking me to go steady?” Lance asked, crooked grin falling into place. Keith’s fingers twitched against his waist.
“Yes,” he said, straightforward and blunt as he’s ever been. “You’re allowed to want this, you know.” Surprise coloured Lance’s face, and he grinned wide and bright before tossing his head back and laughing, low and almost humming.
“Okay, hot shot. You got me,” he murmured. Keith smirked and dragged Lance by his face back against his lips. Lance kissed him enthusiastically, all but giggling into the kiss, and Keith was definitely on cloud nine, if the clenching, fluttering feeling in his chest was anything to go by. “How’re we gonna get down?” Lance muttered into the kiss. Keith shrugged.
“Don’t know,” he mumbled. “Kiss me again and maybe it’ll come to me.” With another bark of laughter, Lance rocked back in mid-air, pulling Keith with him. They were nearly horizontal now, and Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s shoulders and kissed him for all he was worth. The song that Keith had been singing was on repeat, though neither was paying much attention at this point. Keith didn’t think he’d ever be able to focus on anything again except Lance’s lips and the way they moved against his own. Even when Lance pushed away from him, cackling and kicking off of a beam and sailing across the room, Keith couldn’t stop from staring at the stretch of his lips over his straight white teeth. Their game of zero-gravity tag was interrupted no less than six times by Keith latching onto Lance and kissing him breathless.
Almost an hour later, when they finally touched down on the floor and turned the gravity back on, Lance launched himself at Keith, wrapping long arms and legs around Keith, forcing the red paladin to support him with a very firm grip on his ass. Lance buried his fingers into Keith’s hair and kissed him feverishly, like they hadn’t spent the last forty-five minutes making out.
“I’m glad I didn’t go to my Earth prom,” he said breathlessly. Keith blinked up at him. “I’m glad this is my only prom experience.” He leaned in and touched their foreheads together, and Keith watched his eyes close, watched a slow, easy smile overtake his handsome face.
“Lance,” Keith said softly. Blue eyes opened, penetrated Keith right to the very core of his being. He was sure that Lance was staring straight into his soul, and he hoped Lance could see every overwhelming, desperate, helpless, lovestruck thing he was feeling.
From the way Lance’s breath hitched, Keith figured that Lance was seeing the same future he did.
the whole idea of dancing in zero-g came from @jamthedingus and then @lancesexual came and punted my face into the sun with that FUCKING SONG so thanks u gay fucks.
Synopsis:Your best friend drags you into attending a masquerade ball with her, only to abandon you in the middle of the strange dance. Standing alone in the midst of a flurry of people, the events that play out here change the course of your life; only to leave you wondering; who is under the mask?
(A/N: Ah, I’m not entirely sure how this came out, feedback would be much appreciated! I hope you guys enjoy though!)
“I should’ve known.”
Those three words echoed through your head all night, leaving you restless as you relentlessly tossed from side to side trying to work out the meaning behind the cryptic phrase. What was it she wasn’t telling you? She knew something. Something important, and yet she was keeping it from you.
Forcing yourself up in the morning, you pushed your disheveled hair out of your tired eyes, groaning as the realisation that you had to attend university that day, and resume normal life as if nothing had happened. As if your best friend wasn’t dead. As if you weren’t bitten by a strange man who you were starting to believe - as insane as it sounded to you - could well be a vampire of some sort, like something straight out of Twilight. You still struggled to wrap your head around the idea, your mind not able to comprehend the concept of mythical creatures such as vampires. You sat up in your bed, staring directly at the wall as you thought over everything. Subconsciously tilting your head to the side in thought, you wondered, if that man was truly a vampire, would the bite take effect on you too? Sighing, you shook your head as you finally climbed out of bed, the thought sounding ridiculous to you, and yet strangely true.
“(Y/N)!” You heard your mother calling from the other room. “You need to go to uni today, honey!” Her tone sounded fairly enthusiastic, but with an undertone of fatigue, like she had been up all night as well.
In as lively a tone as you could muster, you called back, “Yeah, I know, mum, I’m getting up.” Your hand involuntarily flew up to touch the fading bite mark once again, like you found yourself doing often, your fingers running over the small indents in your skin. “How am I just supposed to act like nothing happened?” You pondered, your head still clouded in total confusion. If you were ever going to be able to focus on anything, you had to find answers to the questions that kept you up all night. You had to find out everything.
Yoongi stared into the mirror, his fingers brushing over the pale skin of his face. All he could think about for the past few days was the girl with the red mask, as he glanced over his bedside table at that very mask. Your scent was intoxicating, addicting even, as a strange feeling stirred in his chest. You filled his thoughts constantly, as he found his mind wandering off, thinking about how your hair tumbled down your shoulders effortlessly, the way a few strands of your hair fell into your face. The way your soft eyes widened at the sight of him. You were no ordinary human, that he was sure of. At first glance, he thought you were one of their kind, although your skin only had a slight tinge of paleness compared to the marble-like skin of every other vampire he had seen. So, when he saw a blush rising up to your cheeks, a feeling of confusion clouded his mind. Since when did vampires blush? Were you a human then? But that couldn’t be it either.
That room was not supposed to be visible to humans. He often resided in that room during the extravagant balls, often preferring peace and quiet over the loud music and the murmur of voices in the ballroom. So… what exactly were you?
“Hyung!” Yoongi heard a familiar voice from outside his room, turning around, his eyebrows furrowing in slight annoyance, only to see Jimin pop his head through the doorway, eyes twinkling as his plump lips curled up in a mischievous smile. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? You know how your dad is with your education.”
Of course he knew. It was his father who insisted he attend university and “do something useful with your life”, in his father’s own words. His father seemed to think that the only valid profession was a doctor or a engineer, or something “respectable” like that, and so Yoongi was relentlessly pushed into it against his own accord, and had no choice but to accept. It had been a few months since the first year had started, and he had only just began adjusting to the heavy workload and the concept of socialising with others.
“What about you?” Yoongi inquired, looking Jimin up and down. His outfit was a contrast to his embroidered tuxedo from a couple nights before, instead wearing a simple baggy white T-shirt with a pair of black shorts and a black beanie to match. Pulling his backpack off his shoulder and setting it down on the floor, the smile never once left Jimin’s face, as he replied, “You know everyone’s ready right? We’re all waiting on you.” Playfully punching Yoongi’s shoulder, he said, “Hurry up, grandpa, we haven’t got all day.” With that, Jimin proceeded to sling his backpack over his shoulder, casually walking out in typical Jimin fashion once again.
“This boy.” Yoongi shook his head, one corner of his lips twitching slightly as he tried to repress a smile. Looking back over at the mask one last time, he sighed, throwing his wardrobe door open, as he finally began to get ready for yet another gruelling day of university.
Staring out of the window of your mother’s small car, you self-consciously readjusted the turtleneck you were wearing, constantly worrying that someone would somehow see the bite mark. That wasn’t going to be easy to explain, to say the least. Looking down at the lit screen of your phone, you felt a pang of pain, like something had just stabbed your heart when you saw the ever-so-familiar picture of Mina and you. You didn’t have the heart to change it, instead serving as a reminder not to go to strange places. You realised that your day was likely to be much quieter without Mina’s constant chatter to accompany you. At least, that’s what you thought.
Finally pulling up by the fields surrounding your university, your mother turned to face you, a sympathetic smile etched on her face. “You’ll be okay, right?” She asked, her tone softening with concern for you.
Forcing a smile, you replied with as much enthusiasm as you could muster, “I’ll be fine, honestly. No big deal…” It felt you were trying to convince yourself rather than your mother, but she seemed satisfied with your answer, her eyes looking over you once more before you grabbed your backpack, slowly slinging it over your shoulder as you stepped out of the car.
Forcing your feet to move forward, you trudged towards the huge building, taking a deep breath before you stepped into the building, your head beginning to thump once again as students pushed and barged past you, causing you to have to force yourself through the stampede of people to reach the hall your lecture was being held in.
After finally escaping the crowd in one piece, you leaned against the wall by the door to the hall, patting your hair down so that you looked at least decent. Tilting your head slightly towards the door, you noticed a group of boys walking past, your curiosity piquing as a feeling of familiarity stirred in your chest. One of the guys pushed the door wide open with a shove, brushing his jet-black hair out of his eyes. Another of them, blonde haired this time, flashed a quick smile at you, the rectangular shape of his smile seeming strangely familiar, as he walked inside with the other remaining boys. Maybe they did the same course as you, you pondered, your mind recalling how you’d spotted them in previous lectures before. That must be it, you decided, and yet there was still a strange feeling nudging at the back of your mind.
Taking your seat in the large lecture hall, you set your bag down on the adjacent seat, tapping your pen on the hard surface of the desk. You noticed your bag being set down on the floor, however, and so your eyes trailed up to meet those of none other than your best friend, Mina. Your mind failed to comprehend the situation, that your best friend, who you thought was dead - you were certain you saw her seemingly dead with her own eyes - was standing there in front of you, her eyes twinkling in her usual mischievous manner. Something was different though, as you squinted your eyes in disbelief, your eyes scanning over her over and over again, as if to check if she really was there in front of you. As you looked over her for what seemed like the tenth time, you realised what was up. Her skin was almost the same marble-like colour of those people you had come across, the sparkle in her eyes just like the one you’d seen in the other mysterious men, that sparkle that left you immobilised, unable to take your eyes off.
“Mina?” You finally uttered, your body completely frozen in disbelief. “How… what… how?”
“Aw, did you miss me?” She winked, a shiver running up your spine as you still tried to wrap your head around the situation.
Your best friend was alive. And she was one of them.
Not now. Not here. Not while she was wedged between the couch and a Chloe. Not while she had lips attached to hers and hands in her hair. Not while a jean clad leg was rubbing up against hers, hot breath next to her ear and hands wandering under the hem of her shirt.
She didn’t want to think about it.
Beca had been sitting at the radio station, texting the redhead while some music played in the background and her playlist was queued for the rest of the night.
“Hey, you!” a chirpy voice sang from the doorway, immediately causing the brunette to spin her chair and face the girl.
Chloe was holding two sandwich bags and a sweet smirk played on her lips as she stepped in.
“Hey, you,” Beca said back, voice quieter than normal.
“I’ve come to keep you company. I know you’ve got the graveyard shift,” Chloe smiled, pulling out the chair next to the brunette and sitting beside her.
“Oh, dude. No. You totally don’t have to stay,” Beca frowned slightly, knowing very well there’d be no sleep.
Chloe just shook her head and opened the sandwich bags, pulling out two cans of Diet Coke for herself and Dr. Pepper for the brunette, along with Cool Ranch Doritos for herself and Nacho Cheese Doritos for Beca.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Beca said, smiling as the redhead handed her a ham and cheese sandwich.
“’Course I did.”
The two sat around and chatted while the radio was queued for the rest of the night, smiles and laughs exchanged all throughout the night until about 2 AM.
“Oh,” Chloe said, looking at her phone screen as it buzzed, “it’s Tom.”
Beca bit back a growl. “what’s he want?”
“He wants me to come over,” Chloe said, beginning to clean up her trash and Beca’s collecting her things.
“Chloe… hey. You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t go over there now. It’s two in the morning,” Beca said as she put a hand on Chloe’s arm to stop her movements.
“But he wants to hang,” Chloe cocked a brow at the brunette questioningly.
“For a booty call,” Beca snorted, “you’re worth more than that, Beale.”
For a moment it got all quiet. Chloe bit her lip and looked like she was considering not going after all.
“I’m worth more than that?” She asked.
“Well… yeah. You’re worth more than a bootie call where Tom’ll kick you out in the morning, or, hell, even before that. You’re worth someone who wants you. Wants to be with you and talk to you and… and love you.”
Chloe was quiet again before whispering, “and who would that be?”
Their eyes met and Beca didn’t even have to say it. She didn’t even have to speak at all. They both knew.
And that was all it took before Chloe got up from her seat and spun Beca’s desk chair around, swiftly straddling the brunette and settling her hands in the brown hair.
Summary: I’m trash. Ugh, I don’t know. Negan finally acts on his stalkerish actions???MAX AND NEGAN MERGED INTO ONE. Request Summary: “Can you write something about a girl who negan saved when she was young/kid and now that she is growing up as a women they starting to love each other, smut or daddy dom” - Anon POV: Negan Characters: Kylie and Negan Word Count: 5102 Warnings: Cursing, hella smut too Authors note: I’m complete trash for mixing Max and Negan together. I totally stole some of Max’s quotes from the movie and some of his creepy nature. What is wrong with me? I swear, for me, writing smut is almost like, embarrassing, but I gotta do what I gotta do. Anyways, I’m trash for writing this and I hope you all like my trashy writing.Here, have another fucking cliffhanger. Parts: 1/1 - Completed Quote of the story:“Today was a productive ass day and it just started!” P.S. I’m also willing to write FF for Max. P.S.S. How the hell did I gain 100 followers in like three days? I haven’t even posted anything in a while?! I have 405 followers now and I just started this blog. P.S.S.S. Which story do you want next? Special Room, Hurricane Negan, Little Lamb, or something new? I honestly don’t know if I will continue on with Little Lamb or Hurricane Negan, tbh.