instead she made herself a god

You guys are all sleeping on One Day at a Time

I don’t know why more people aren’t talking about this show???? It is a genuinely great show that deals with important social issues unlike any other show I’ve ever seen.

The majority of the shows main characters are Cuban, that’s right, almost entirely PoC. There is one only white main-ish character.

It deals with mental illness. The mother suffers from PTSD after serving in the army. She is never belittled or made to seem weak. She is a strong woman who is portrayed as more than her illness. The show even shows her taking the steps she needs to help herself.

One of the main characters is a feminist teenage lesbian. 

Once she comes out her whole family supports her. Her mother struggles to come to terms with it but never lets her daughter know, instead she educates herself and eventually fully accepts it. Her grandmother, a devout christian, struggles as well for all of 20 seconds before she destroys the argument that being gay goes against god in a few short sentences

The white character is a rich white straight dude but is also a nice guy. Not a Nice Guy™ but an actual nice guy. He sometimes says/does racist and sexist things but is quickly corrected by either himself or other characters.

The show also deals with issues like illegal and legal immigration, racism and sexism. 

In short, this show is sent from fucking heaven and idk why more people aren’t talking about it. Go watch it

NO WAIT I’M NOT DONE.

I MIGHT NEVER BE DONE.

THE THING ABOUT CARRIE FISHER IS THAT SHE GAVE NO FUCKS

BECAUSE SHE FUCKING CARED FOR YEARS AND YEARS AND TRIED TO MEET THE IMPOSSIBLE STANDARDS SET FOR WOMEN 

WHICH ARE IMPOSSIBLE FOR ANY WOMAN TO MEET MUCH LESS ANYONE STRUGGLING WITH A MENTAL ILLNESS

AND SHE WAS FABULOUS BEFORE SHE STOPPED GIVING A FUCK

BUT AFTER SHE BROKE, AFTER ALL HER FUCKS WERE EXPENDED AND SHE COULD NOT GIVE A EVEN ONE MORE

THAT IS WHEN SHE BECAME OUR QUEEN.

THAT’S A TRIAL BY FIRE AND MY GOD MOST OF US NEVER EVEN GET HALF AS FAR THROUGH IT AS SHE DID BUT SHE FUCKING MADE IT AND THEN REIGNED, EVEN THOUGH EVERY SINGLE DAY WAS A STRUGGLE AND THE ESTABLISHMENT TRIED TO EAT HER FOR IT.

SHE STOOD UP AND SAID FUCK OFF, THIS IS MY LIFE AND THIS IS HOW I NEED TO LIVE IT, AND IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT, THERE’S THE DOOR DON’T LET IT HIT YOUR ASS ON THE WAY OUT

SHE COULD HAVE BEEN BITTER

SHE HAD EVERY RIGHT TO BE

BUT INSTEAD OF SHUTTING DOWN AND LOCKING HERSELF UP

SHE OPENED HER ARMS AND SAID “FUCK THESE HATERS, COME SIT WITH ME AND MY DOG AND MY DOG’S UNREASONABLY LARGE AND FABULOUS TONGUE.”

I GUESS WHAT IT BOILS DOWN TO IS THIS:

I LOVED HER WHEN I WAS A SCABBY-KNEED LITTLE GIRL BECAUSE SHE HAD FANCY HAIR AND COULD RESCUE HERSELF

I LOVE HER NOW FOR THE SAME FUCKING REASONS.

Rent Re-Imagined. A One-Shot Fic.

Anonymous said: What if Jamie and Claire gave into their feelings before they married and murtuagh caught them…


…well, I hope this matches your vision, Anon.

Thanks to @outlandishchridhe as always for writing my grammar wrongs, you gem. 

A tiny break in the university madness gave me a bit of a chance to write. If you’ve asked me for something, never fear…I am still going to honour them. Just when I have time to do them justice.

MWAH.


Slipping behind the largest trunk, Claire slunk closer to the debris at the base of the tree. She could hear Dougal and Jamie talking –animatedly. Jamie, it seemed, did not agree with his uncle on some matters pertaining to the earlier escapades with the locals and his eager need to tear the shirt from Jamie’s back at any God-given opportunity.

Claire didn’t blame him. Thinking about it made her blood boil and she had to grip the bark with some vigour in order to keep herself sat still and not go tearing down the hill towards Dougal herself.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned her head backwards, thinking instead of her own intimate matters. As much as she tried to force back the *affectionate* feelings that had begun to manifest themselves deep in her chest, the camaraderie she felt towards Jamie had bloomed. Claire found herself almost drawn to the Scot, her movements mimicking his in the strangest of ways. Her body was attuned to his.

How else had she found herself here? Close to him once more, eavesdropping on his conversation, not for the actual words, but just to be within close proximity of the man.

She was so consumed by these thoughts that she failed to notice Dougal stomp passed her, his long gait extended by his increased ire at his argumentative nephew. The crack of fallen branches pulled her from her reverie though, and she dipped lower, her shoulders hunching closer to the trunk in order to stay out of sight.

A distinct sound of gaelic curses rang out only moments later, causing Claire to jump a little. Turning onto her knees, she crawled over the roots and glanced down into the small valley beyond her hiding place.

Watching, she scrunched her eyes to see in the dark as Jamie, venting his frustration in the safest way possible, smacked his clenched fist against the closest tree. Claire, from where she knelt, could see the tense set of his shoulders as he pulled his arm back once more, his head falling forward as he pounded the rough bark.

His words, foreign to Claire’s ears, were almost unintelligible from this distance, and she climbed closer in order to get a better view. Arguing with herself, she decided it was best to let him get this pent up aggression out of his system before she showed herself.

“Ye can come out now,” Jamie spoke, his voice hushed as he turned a little. He could see her slumped behind the hillock, catching a brief movement out of the corner of his eye as he stood still facing away for the most part.

Standing and brushing herself off, Claire stumbled down the wee bank and brought herself to Jamie’s side.

Holding out her hand, she wiggled her fingers towards his blood-stained ones, not saying a word as she summoned his knuckles for inspection.

“You should be more careful, Mr MacTavish. You could easily pop the joint if you catch it wrong. Tree bark isn’t known for its gentle properties you know,” she teased as she turned his battered fingers over in her hand, examining the damage as carefully as she was able.

“Jamie, please mistress,” he whispered, nothing but humour in his tone, “…and trees are safe, Sassenach.”

Smiling, she tugged him over in the direction of the small fire he’d lit for himself and bid him to sit.

Pulling a small tin from her pocket, Claire reached for her small collection of medical supplies.

“Verra prepared, mistress Claire,” Jamie joked, quirking a brow at her stash. “Expecting to ha’ wounds to attend were ye?”

“Well,” Claire returned, too fast for Jamie to concoct a response, “if *you’re* involved –Jamie– there is bound to be physicking required.”

That silenced him, and he kept his mouth shut whilst Claire finished off cleansing his cuts and bandaging them to avoid the filth of the road.

Though large, Jamie’s hands weren’t callused. Working as he did with heavy tools, Claire had assumed differently, but as she twisted and turned them about, ensuring her handiwork would stand the test of their arduous journey, she realised that they were incredibly soft and mostly free from scars.

She recalled that first day in the stables at Leoch and his tales of outlawry. It was hard to imagine, with him here now in front of her, that he was wanted for murder. Looking up at him, she could see the firelight glint in his aqua eyes, the red/yellow tint shining in his vivid irises.

He had a kind face and a gentle touch. Nothing about him suggested violence or danger.

Licking her lips, she shifted her bottom, her knees slipping further apart as she leaned closer.

Unaware of her subtle movements, Jamie had almost completely closed his eyes now. Lulled by her rhythmic ministrations, he’d chosen blissful ignorance ahead of actively contemplating what he might like to do with Claire.

Her skin glowed in the flames, the pale ivory of her flesh catching the dim flickers as it illuminated her from behind. She was something –otherworldly.

Cracking, the fire spat out a stray piece of ash as it sparked and settled once more, shocking Claire as she shimmied closer to Jamie in an attempt to stay away from the burning debris. The action brought them nose and nose, and Claire held her breath as she tilted her head to the right, sliding the tip of her nose along the bridge of his.

He smelt…intoxicating. Whisky and woodsmoke lined his skin, the calm puffs of his breath wafting over her lips as she held herself steady.

She didn’t mean for it to happen, but the moment she felt his tongue peek out from behind his lips, darting out to moisten his dry skin, she was lost. Leaning forwards she took his mouth against hers, sucking his upper lip between her teeth as they moved together unconsciously.


Claire didn’t recall turning, but before she could pull herself away and apologise for her rash actions, she was on her back in the leaves, her legs parted as Jamie angled himself as close to her as he could get, tugging his kilt out of the way in the process.

Too late, she realised, as she pulled her skirts up, wrapping her feet around Jamie’s knees and urging him forward with her body.

Gasping, she opened her eyes as bare skin came into contact with bare skin, her head unable to comprehend the actions that had led them here. Jamie’s brow was scrunched tight, his eyes clenched as he fought not to simply thrust his hips forward and end this subtle dance. Claire could see it in his face, how much he ached to let go, how much he wanted to twist his hips and sheath himself deep inside her, but something was holding him back.

“Y-you haven’t…have you?” Claire stammered, the dull thud of her heart audible in her ears as she spoke, “you’ve never lain with a woman before.”

Shaking his head vehemently, Jamie pursed his lips together and rolled his arse in time with Claire, her thighs tightening around his hips as he felt the telltale dampness coat him.

Gasping, Claire rocked herself closer still, angling herself into the right position for him to simply slide himself upwards…

She waited, her heart picking up pace as she tried to stay as motionless as possible.

“It’s alright, Jamie,” she coaxed, pushing her shoulders against the cold ground to lever her upwards as she kissed him softly, her tongue lingering on his lips as she relaxed once more, “I want this…I want *you*.”

Pushing himself inside her, Jamie moaned, his whole body trembling as his will broke, her words shattering the carefully built wall that had kept him from destroying Claire’s fragile reputation.

Unable to think, he let his body guide him. Claire’s hand roamed over his shirt-clad back and down until she’d pulled his kilt up further. The cold air slid along his exposed legs, causing his arse to clench as she took one naked cheek in each palm and directed him.

Digging her heels into the sodden earth beneath her, Claire let her legs fall open wider, her knees almost touching the ground as she met Jamie’s movements. Pushing her groin against his over and over again, grinding herself against him to create as much friction as possible.

With one final groan, Jamie juddered, tensed and flopped against Claire, his energy spent as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her neck.

Panting, Claire twined her legs with his as the tingling faded from her extremities.

Rendered insensible by the blinding lust that had just consumed them, both Claire and Jamie lapsed into unconsciousness, the chilly air unable to penetrate the heat their combined bodies had just created. Steam seemed to hang in the space around them as the fire dwindled, a fine mist encasing the now-sleeping lovers.

Coughing – loudly – Murtagh kicked Jamie’s filthy boots as he crossed his arms, his ire showing openly on his face.

“Ay! Laddie…wake up ye lazy dolt!”

Stunned by the sharp intonation of his godfather’s voice, Jamie hunched his shoulders to hide the shock he’d just received at being so rudely woken. Forgetting himself, his hands tightened on Claire’s shoulders, his sleep-hazed state making him feel as if she’d always been there, not remembering that she was a new addition to his nighttime routine.

Tugging the shawl around her half exposed shoulders, the colour drained from Claire’s face as the sudden realisation of her late night actions sunk in. Untangling herself from Jamie’s grasp, she sat up and slowly opened her eyes.

She prayed that only Murtagh stood before them, hoping beyond hope that she could convince the dour Scotsman to turn a blind eye to her less than reputable actions. But luck wasn’t on her side.

“I see our feral cat has some…impressionable skill at leading men astray,” Dougal muttered, his tone dripping with derision.

Claire could picture the look on his face without having to see it, but she was no coward. Opening her eyes fully, she rolled her shoulders back and clenched her teeth together to avoid saying something cutting in return.

Jamie remained silent too, his hands grappling to find hers as he rubbed some manner of warmth back into her digits, calming her as he did so.

“Uncle,” he began, an air of warning to his tone, “dinna go throwing insults around, aye?”

Scoffing, Dougal twisted the knife in his palm, using its sharp point to balance it precariously in the centre of his hand. “What else would ye have me call it,” he mocked, his eyes narrowing to slits as he began pacing in front of them.

Murtagh remained quiet now, his focus solely on Jamie as he tried to block out the view he’d had of the intimate moment between Jamie and Claire. Not meaning to catch them in the act, he’d come searching for his godson only moments after Claire had. Knowing the lad probably needed some alone time, he’d waited for just a wee bit longer than normal before heading off after him.

He’d had time to think as he’d clambered away from the scene, eager not to hear any more of their amorous activities. Desperate to keep the others in the rent party away, Murtagh had occupied the group with bawdy songs and whisky until most had passed out drunk.

Dougal, however, saw through the act. Noticing that Jamie hadn’t returned and that Claire had seemingly vanished, he’d bided his time before creeping off in search of the pair of them.

Finding them curled up, asleep by the fire he’d watched Jamie stoke earlier, a devious smile had lit his face and he’d snuck back off to contemplate his next move.

“Weel, tis of no matter,” Dougal continued, smirking as Jamie’s face turned a lurid red. Claire gulped loudly, her pulse throbbing painfully as her throat felt like it might close. She could tell from the devious look on Dougal’s face that this wouldn’t end well.

“No matter?” Jamie spat out, incensed by his uncle’s games.

“Aye, my boy. Ye ken the way of it. If you canna keep yer legs closed there are consequences.”

“Don’t you dare–” Claire began, her embarrassment completely fizzling now. Replaced, instead, with white-hot burning rage.

“Och, I *dare*,” Dougal sneered, interrupting her diatribe, “mistress Beauchamp. If you canna contain yerselves, then you will have to be marrit. Do I make myself clear?”

Claire’s eyes widened, her heart stuttering in her chest as the words found purchase in the air around them.

Married?

No.

How could she…?

She was *already* married.

Jamie’s hand tightened on hers, the warmth of it silently soothing her frayed nerves.

“Married?” Murtagh whispered, echoing Claire’s unspoken sentiment. “Are ye mad, Dougal?”

“Am I…? No. I amne. We dinna ken fer sure, but he’s lain wi’ her now, she could be with child. It has been known. Do you wish her to be kent as a hoor, spoilt goods for anyone to take a wee keek at?” Dougal glowered, his advantage hard pressed to be beat.

Even Murtagh couldn’t disagree with his assessment of the situation.

“Married…” Claire murmured, her voice sending warm shivers down Jamie’s spine as he brought her closer to his side. The shuffling of the leaves around them made Claire blink as she turned to stare at her husband-to-be. “Jamie, I-”

“Hush, Sassenach,” he interjected, quashing her apology before she could voice it. “I promised I’d look out for you at Leoch, didn’t I?” he reminded her, his kind eyes holding hers as she nodded in reply. “And that hasne changed between here and there.”

Turning back to Dougal and Murtagh, Jamie clasped his hand around Claire’s back and brought them both to their feet. “Aye, uncle,” he agreed, holding his hand out as if to cement the *arrangement*, “but I have three conditions…if we’re t’ be wed.”

Laughing, Dougal shook his head, running his hand over the peak of his forehead, “T’would be easier to just kill ye both!” He jeered, a tiny hint of promise in his tone.

“That is as maybe,” Jamie returned, an equally dark hint to his voice as he gently drew patterns over Claire’s back, “but much harder to explain, wouldn’t you agree?”

Spitting a mouthful of saliva at his feet, Dougal blinked slowly and turned from the pair, stomping off once more in the direction of Rupert and the others.

Claire exhaled, her lungs pulsating from holding in the oxygen for so long. Leaning her head against Jamie’s shoulder she made to apologise once more, only finding herself incapable of speech, decided instead to forego it in favour of clenching his hand softly in hers.

Sensing her meaning, Jamie kept her close, turning them both in Murtagh’s direction as they awaited his reaction.

Quirking a bushy brow, Claire saw his lips twitch beneath his thick beard as he reached forward and smacked Jamie, his fingers catching Jamie’s thick curls, the smack echoing through the trees surrounding them.

“Foolish boy…” he spat, keeping his voice low as he went from anger to acceptance in two words, “it’s a dangerous game yer playing here. Ye ken well how changeable Dougal can be. How easy his moods slip from playful caution to deadly.”

Shrugging off Murtagh’s warning, Jamie sighed and kissed Claire on the forehead. “Then maybe it’s best if we’re wed quickly, aye?” He replied, walking himself and Claire in the direction of the camp.

Murtagh hovered behind them for just a moment, scratching his head as he watched the pair walk away, seeing the strange closeness they’d come to accept in just one short evening. “Aye,” he mumbled. “I guess ye had.”

“In a church!” Jamie yelled, his head turned towards Murtagh, a coy smile lighting his face, “afore a priest.”

The Agreement: Part 1

Originally posted by jynsandors


I read this prompt somewhere, and if anyone knows the person name let me know so I can give them credit, that Diana would make a deal with Hades to retrieve Steve. And I kinda wanted to make a full story for it.

Diana prays to Zeus for the opportunity to see Steve again. After hearing her cries for decades, Zeus decides that Diana’s sacrifice and duty warrants her the path to Hades. He can’t help her get Steve out from the Underworld, but with her determination, he won’t have to.

Rating: M (eventually)

Word Count: 1,170

2017

She stood staring at the larger than life painting before her. The Last Day of Pompeii served as her reminder of all the destruction the world can hold, but how good people can still find it in their hearts to help one another. Diana let out a deep sigh before continuing closing up the museum. As head curator of the Department of Antiquities at the Louvre, it wasn’t unusual for her to spend late nights working. The six years she spent there were enjoyable. The work, while challenging and time-consuming, kept her mind busy. But she knew she couldn’t stay much longer. Coworkers would start to notice that she didn’t age or get sick like everyone else, and would begin to ask questions. She was considering a position at the British Museum. But every time she thought of returning to London, it brought on a rush of emotions. It was her first home amongst men and she had such fond memories of adventures and love, but also very sad ones.

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Reasons why Hades kidnapped his wife that one time:

1) “Bro, listen, chicks dig guys who take charge of the situation, just ask Hera! Now, go there and haul her off to the underworld, I’m sure she’ll LOVE IT!”

2) Wanted to start a normal conversation with her but got too nervous to talk, didn’t want her to think he was a creep or something, panicked, and decided the only logical way for him to salvage the situation was to kidnap her.

3) Hades was taking his complimentary stroll trough Enna when he finds himself with 110 pounds of a woman in his arms. “Quick, she’s not looking, bring me ANYWHERE BUT HERE!” The woman orders, and Hades can’t help but comply.

4) He was taking his dog outside for a walk, met Persephone, and she fell in love so much with them she simply HAD to follow them to the underworld. And For them, I mean Cerberus.

5) Persephone was making flower crowns in the clearing by making flowers sprout and then start weaving them herself. Hades, not to be outdone, joins her and start doing the same. Except he can’t grow flowers for shit and starts growing precious gems instead. Kore discovers Hades is Also a god associated with wealth other than being a huge dork who weaves flower crowns made out of rubies in the form of flowers, and from that moment she’s #SOLD.

6) Hades and Persephone knew each other from before, and already felt something for one another. Hades asked permission to her father to marry her, as it was custom, which he granted, and then partook in the ancient ritual of the kidnapping of the bride.

Stay Away from Her- Michael Gray

Originally posted by lunasterys

Request// Michael Gray imagine where he gets jealous of yours and john’s friendship?

*Wow, three days in a row? Yes, I am overcompensating for my missing presence over the last couple of weeks! xoxox*

Masterlist


“John, stop it!” Michael could hear your playful whine from outside Arthur’s office. “If Polly knows your drinking on the job, she may just knock your head off.”

“Oh come on, Y/N. You should know that Aunt Pol doesn’t scare me.” Michael creeped into the room to find you sitting at the desk, scribbling numbers onto the paperwork. John sat on the edge of the desk smiling down at you as you worked.

“I’m sure Polly would love to hear that herself.” Michael’s comment made you both jump, not yet noticing him enter the room.

“God, Michael. You scared me half to death,” you impishly reprimand him. You quickly rose from your chair and moved to the door. You placed his arm on your waist before you wrapped yours over his shoulders. “John won’t leave me alone to finish my paperwork. If I don’t get it done, I’ll have to work late tonight. Or Polly will take my head instead.”

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persephone chose autumn,
shunned spring sun and winter weather
together in the same breath, stole leaves from trees
with careless honey dipped hands.
she chose the night sky. danced with stars instead of flowers
and found life in a different kind of shadow.

she considered her options. picked apple
over pomegranate and followed the footsteps eve carved
out into sandstone and river rock as she made her way
down from the garden, this, another choice, a different kind
of forbidden fruit but the same kind of falling;
from a pedestal someone else sat her on,
one she never claimed for herself.

l.s. | EVEN GODS CRAVE CHANGE © 2016

The Return: Landing

SO THE WANTED ONE HOUR SPECIAL, HUH?

Anyway, I am absolutely dying to see how they’re gonna continue on from this, and I’m gonna fic it, because I don’t have enough WIPs already. This one’s gonna be in little vignettes when I get inspiration, and it’s gonna be focused on Lars and Sadie. 

Over the course of the series, expect angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, larsadie, and HECKA SPOILERS FOR STEVEN UNIVERSE’S ‘WANTED’ SPECIAL EVENT

This fic is mostly the first of those.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you know of any stories of the First Witch? I saw a retelling of a Slavic myth involving tricking the god of magic, Veles, into revealing his secrets. I wondered if you know of any other First Witch myths from other places?

Great question! First it is important to note that specifically witchcraft vs. shamanism, sorcery and divining is mostly a medieval phenomenon, so the origin stories are usually traceable to the medieval period or later.

1) The Vangelo (the portion of the Aradia: the Gospel of The Witches that was provided to Charles Leland by his fortune teller informant Madellena of a Tuscan witch traditions folklore (what is now seen by folklorists as an example of atypical folklore–so this lore was not widespread and may have been isolated to a small region). Tells of Diana (the moon) eclipsing Lucifer (the sun) and conceiving a savior Aradia during the oppressive medieval period to save the peasantry from the horrendous abuse of the feudal and corrupt religious governments. Created by these animist gods the moon and sun, Aradia’s mother charged her with teaching the peasantry poisoning and magic for a subversive and magical peasants revolution. Now most of us believe the first sorcerers and witches would certainly predate the medieval period, but perhaps this particular cult of magical peasants rebellion did not. And if witchcraft is defined as the church seems to be as a pervasive magical cult of resistance, well perhaps this tale does make sense despite obvious solitary sorceresses like Medea predating Aradia by a long time.

2) Lilith-variously understood as a demon, serpent, and first woman-Lilith has revealed herself overtime in many contradicting forms today showing herself as a goddess and patron of feminism. However, one of the expressions of Lilith in Hebrew tradition was as a otherworldly mother of wild animals and spirits. She is said to have been created from clay and gods breath and in his image, but when she saw herself as equal to Adam, demanding sexual and dominionative parity, she was banished to rule the wild animal kingdom in exile. Adam was provided Eve made instead of in god’s image instead from his rib and therefore supposedly his. Perhaps she got her revenge on the form of a female serpent that shared a little resistance, freedom and knowledge fruit with Eve and maybe even mothered or partnered with Cain. As a patron of wilderness, wisdom, sexuality and heresy, this semi-human presentation of Lilith dates back medieval Kabbalah texts. Prior she was more of a bird succubus demon.

3) Another apocryphal story of the first witch cult is that the sons of god or watchers/gregori which could be angels or other spiritual beings or an elder race of man, descended from above (the sky or the mountains) and fell for the amazing women of the tribe and found fit to teach them magic (dying fabric, cosmetics like make up and scented oils, and metallurgy for making tools, weapons, armor, and jewelry.) Although, I don’t find this tale as convincing as a witch tale-it’s more of a skill and culture tale, because it doesn’t include things we associate with witches like spells, shape changing and spirit-flight and wildness–but rather the opposite.

4) My main witchcraft influences are Gaelic. And while there is not a particular first witch story, it is pretty clear that priestesses/druidesses of sorcery, sexuality and storm goddesses are the predecessors of fairy women, fairy doctors and that were later made illegal as “witches” in English. The first recorded witch trial was in Ireland in 1325 of Alice Kyteler. Considered one of the first witch trials in Europe and the first recorded to indicate an incubus familiar lover for the witch. Her trial includes many elements of folk magic like black rooster sacrifices at Crossroads. Alice was condemned but escaped, her servant was executed. So witchcraft was believed to be conferred by demons or fairies and so I imagine the happening of any particular otherworldly conference of witchcraft from an otherworldly being to a witch could be extrapolated to explain how the first happened. A fairy who fell in love with a person taught them magical ways. For all intents and purposes fairies, elder ancestors, and even the sons of god are indistinguishable when it comes down to it–so when one or more of these beings be it Lilith, a Watcher, a fairy or an ancestral spirit seduces a human and teaches them magic it results the same: in witchcraft.

These tales that I am familiar with vary quite a lot from the Slavic story you shared. In that the first witch stole magic rather than a spiritual being illicitly teaching it to them or a witch messiah provided by a witch goddess. I find that quite interesting. My friend Gordana had shared this tale with me before, but I hadn’t thought oh yeah, that’s different. But it is. Pretty cool.

Followers, for anymore cool first witch tales?

Seasick Part 2

I just realize how well this fits for Sinful Sunday .


PART 1 and 3 on Masterlist

Originally posted by dial-666-for-satan


She lost count of how many days she had been at sea. Memories of her feet on solid ground and of her home were slipping further and further from her mind, the farther away the longboat carried her.

Farther away from England. Farther away from her family and from God.

She was bone thin and starving. She had been diminished to a piece of property and was near hopeless. Yet her suffering had not tested her faith. She still prayed to God every night. Prayed for Him to follow her North. She hoped that He could still hear her. She could still feel Him, but He had stopped answering her.

She looked to the night sky and in her mind’s eye she envisioned the pagan God Thor, seated up there somewhere. The striking of his mighty hammer deafening, sending sparks flying down through the cloud cover, and lighting up the sky. The grand production of it acting as an unholy barrier between her here on the Earth, and Christ, in Heaven.

“Shut up.”

The heathen she had come to know as ‘Ivar’ hissed from the bench, not three feet from where she was chained. He stayed close to her, especially at night. Blue eyes never seemed to leave her.

Observing. Following. Burning.

She continued whispering her prayers. Her back resting against the mast and her neck craned skyward. Her brown eyes remaining lidded, she paid the heathen little mind.

He had torn her away from her home. She wasn’t going to let him tear her away from her conversations with God.

“I am warning you, pet.” he growled.

Just as her own, his voice was hoarse and strained from hours spent wretching into the sea. Yet strained as it was, the tone was still strong and commanding and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, sending a chill right through her. The reaction not entirely a product of fear, it was something more.

The sensation fastly transformed into an all enveloping warmth that spread from her cheeks, down her neck and across her chest before settling in between her legs. As if the words that rolled off of his tongue had reached out and licked at her body like a flame.

Her face went red with her sinful thoughts. She made a silent apology to God and a quick amen, then laid down and curled into herself on the deck. The air was frigid and it was impossible to get comfortable. The damp splintered wood irritated her skin, causing tiny scratches and red bumps to raise up on her arms and legs.

“Are you cold, pet?” his voice now soft and quiet, whispering just loud enough to be heard above the sound of the waves slapping up against the side of the boat.

Her voice being too weak to make an audible response, instead she lay silent and shook her head. She did not want to turn and look upon his face. Seeing the flush there would just spur him on to torture and tease her relentlessly. She hated him.

“I can hear your teeth chattering.”

She clenched her jaw to still the sound and wrapped her arms tighter around herself in attempt to get warmer.

“If I come closer and share my blanket with you, are you going to be naughty again?”

She peered at him over her shoulder, contemplating her answer. If he tried anything again, she knew she would resist. In the moonlight, she studied his face and tried to gage his intentions.

“I won’t touch you again, don’t worry.” He sighed. Using his strong arms to grip the wooden bench, he lowering himself to the deck and scooted his body up behind hers without even having her answer yet. His chest flush to her back, she stared forward avoiding his eyes as he wrapped the damp fur around their bodies. It was itchy and smelled like an animal but she was freezing and couldn’t complain.

“Our journey is coming to an end little one, soon we will be on dry land again. Soon we will be home.” he murmured into her hair and pulled her in closer.

Closing her eyes she tried to relax and forget she was in the arms of the enemy. Tried to fall fast asleep to forget how good it felt. Maybe when she awoke, she could tell herself she missed home and actually believe it. No wonder God had stopped answering her. She lay happily with the Devil.


@whenimaunicorn

@bonemeboneless

@ceridwenofwales

@tiyetiye

@cherrytrinkets

@fortheloveoffran

@vampire-goddess

@raekenimages

@ivarthebonelesss

@synnersaint

@imaginesparadise

@that-was-not-supposed-to-happen

@reading-is-fundimental

@redheadedtrollop

@bluesprings18

@toxicallure

@ivars-heathen-army

@crazy-fandom-girl1

@ivarsvalkyrie

@rockyrascal

@ivars-pet

@odinsnipple

@rachiieee

@nothingbuthappydays

@belle-scarre

@rachiieee

@ivars-heathen

@nothingbuthappydays

@odinsnipple

@ivartrash

Strong, Chapter 5; Closer.

Read on AO3; http://archiveofourown.org/works/11748321/chapters/27008199

IT’S 3.27AM AND I AM
FINALLY UPDATING THIS DAMN FUCKING FIC..

Sorry for yelling but I’m so sorry this update took an age, I’ve been super busy and super uninspired lately but I was determined to post today so here we are. :)

I don’t even think I like a single part of this chapter, but oh well. It needed to go up. Hope at least some part of this super long update was worth the wait! Lemme know!

You will notice the quality drop dramatically the further along you get, and probably tense mistakes too but it’s nearly 4am and I do not have the energy nor patience to edit properly. Also I’m on mobile so sorry for the lack of read more break cause I know this is stupidly long, and messy links!! :( Also my bold/italic text probably won’t work so I’ll try fix that when I’ve had some sleep, lol.

Also just need to mention yet another AMAZING aesthetic for this fic of mine by one of my favs to ever exist @rubyventure 💝 Look at it, it’s amazing, it’s gorgeous, it’s everything. Give it some love!

https://rubyventure.tumblr.com/post/164419495848/allskynostars-rubyventure-happy-birthday

**

“I miss you so much, Poll. You have no idea how good it is to see your face.” Betty smiled into the screen of her laptop, her sister mirroring her own position in a different bed, leaning against the bed frame. Two sisters, so alike in looks but not much else. One in potentially the smallest town to ever exist; Riverdale, and the other in one of the busiest cities in the world; London. “So, tell me everything!”

“Betty, I wish you were here. This place is amazing and I know you would love it.” Polly told Betty animatedly about the theatre that was just down the road from her place, and how every time she went she thought of her. “There’s just, god, there’s just so much <i>life</i> here Betty. There’s never a dull moment, there’s always something new happening somewhere.”

“Unlike here.” Betty sighed, pulling the pillow on her lap closer too her. “Literally, nothing has changed. Oh, wait, that’s a lie. Mum made apple instead of peach pie last night, can you believe it?” Pollys laugh flowed through the crappy speakers of Betty’s laptop, and she found herself wishing she could hear it properly. She ached to hold her sister, to have that companionship that only a fellow Cooper daughter could provide. Polly noticed the way Betty’s face had dropped, she tilted her head to the side slightly.

“You should be here, doing this with me.”

“I wish.” Betty replied, letting her mind wander for just a moment, while she played with a loose thread on the pillow in her lap, to what it could be like. Living in a new city, free to do as she pleased without the watchful eye of Alice Cooper judging her every movement.

“Do it.” Betty’s eyes flicked to Pollys through the screen, a questioning look on her face, to which her which her sister just shrugged. “Why not? It’s simple enough to get a visa, and you can stay with me. I could find you a job, it’s all so easy Betty. Why the hell not?” The excitement in Pollys voice at the thought of having her sister with her was building the more she tried to convince Betty.

“But. What, what about school? I got accepted into Med- ”

“Betty, university is not going anywhere. It’ll still be there when you’re done living a little.” Polly interrupted. “What do you have to stay for? You know that Veronica and Archie wouldn’t stop you. It’s not like you have a boyfriend. Right? If it’s just about Mum and Dad I wouldn’t ev.. Hold on.” Polly stopped mid sentence, watching the way Betty’s face changed at a certain word. “Oh my god, Betty. Do you have a boyfriend?” Polly repositioned herself, trying to get closer to the screen. “I don’t know if my contrast is too high but, are you <i>blushing?</i>” Betty could definitely feel her cheeks turning pink, but she wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

“No, I definitely do not.” She was looking anywhere but at the screen, deciding the lose thread on her pillow needed her full attention. “I would have told you that, Poll.”

“Betty?” The needy tone to her voice drew Betty’s eyes back to the screen. “Is there a boy?”

“I mean..” Betty trailed off, shrugging. She didn’t really know the answer herself. Her and Jughead had pretty much been in constant contact all week, but who knows what that could mean. Also, the fact that Betty was sleeping over at his place tonight was heavy in her mind. Even though she was just there to babysit Jellybean, she couldn’t help her mind from wondering. She liked Jughead, that much was apparent in the way her hands her clamming up just thinking about him. “I don’t really know, Polly. It’s early days, okay?”

“Okay.” Polly didn’t press the subject anymore, instead she just smiled at Betty and mimicked a zip closing her mouth. She started to type away at her keyboard, and then there was a ding to signal that Betty had a new message. She opened it up, and clicked on the link Polly had sent through. It took her to the visa page on the immigration website, which Betty bookmarked before reopening her video call. “Whatever happens, with school or with whoever..” She winked,“I really want you to think about what I said, about coming here. I think it could be really good for you, Betty.” The smile her sister was giving her warmed Betty’s chest. She nodded, smiling herself.

“Okay, I will. I promise.” Then Betty’s face dropped, the sound light footsteps up the stairs alerting her to Alice’s approach. “Shit, Mums coming.” Betty warned her sister.

“Okay, that’s my cue. I have to go to work anyway. Keep me updated, okay?”

“Of course, Poll.” Betty could hear her mother calling her name now.

“And think about it, please. I’ll call you soon, love you. Bye!” Betty didn’t have time to reply before the call was ended and the screen went black, just as Alice let herself in without knocking.

“Elizabeth, are your ears turned off or what? I was calling you from downstairs..” Her voice trailed off at the sight of Betty sitting cross legged on her bed, the laptop sat suspiciously in front her her. “What are you doing?” Betty scrambled to close the screen, not wanting her mum to figure out exactly what she had been doing. Polly and Alice hadn’t spoken in months, and even though it upset Betty, she wasn’t about to step on her sisters toes and blurt to their mother.

“Sorry, I was just doing some research, I was really engrossed in it I didn’t hear you calling out.” Betty knew how much of a shitty liar she was, and for a moment she almost expected Alice to confront her about it. But instead she just gave her a knowing smile.

“Good girl. Now, is it tonight you are staying over at the Jones’?” Betty nodded, getting slightly worried Alice was about to tell her she wasn’t allowed. “I’m not exactly happy about you staying over night on that side of town, but you’ve made a commitment, so. What time would you like me to take you?” Betty let out a breath she hadn’t really realised she’d been holding.

“JBs soccer match finishes after 3, so sometimes before that. Gladys left me a key, and I don’t really want to leave JB on her own at all.” Alice nodded, agreeing with Betty’s responsible reasoning.

“Okay, fine. Just let me know.” Alice made to leave her bedroom, turning her head round just as she got to the door. “Oh, and next time, please ask Polly to answer my calls.” And then she was gone. Betty fell back against her bed, letting out a deep sigh. Why couldn’t her family just be normal, just for once. She let her mind wonder to Pollys suggestion for a moment, thinking about how much fun it would be to live in a different country, let alone city. She had always wanted to go to London, and given that her sister was there, who she missed so much, it was certainly something worth considering. Not even to mention how the further away from Alice she was, the better she would feel. Betty couldn’t stop herself from getting excited, the thought of seeing so many sights and having so many new experiences was pulling on her heart strings. She was snapped out of her daze by a text alert.

<b>So, I hear you’re staying at my place tonight? </b>

Jugheads name on her screen was something else that pulled on her heart strings.

<b>She’s paying me double time, for both children.</b>

She laughed out loud as she sent her reply.

<b>So I watch JB, you watch me? </b>

Betty knew she was being baited, but she took it anyway.

<b>Something along those lines. </b>

But the irony wasn’t lost on Betty. She had wondered why on earth Gladys would ask her to stay and look after JB, when she had a brother who was perfectly capable. She filed the thought away, adding it to the pile of things that didn’t add up with the Jones family.

<b>When do I get my cut of the cash then, Coop? </b>

Betty bit her lip, trying to conjure up some witty reply.

<b>Oh no, does being a broody biker boy not pay too well? </b>

She just watched her screen, waiting for his reply.

<b>It’s a struggle out here.</b>

She smiled at the screen, but before she could type out a reply, he sent another.

<b>But I accept all major payment types ;) </b>

And there she was, blushing from a text. Just from some words on a tiny little screen. Normally Betty was repelling of mindless flirting from boys, but it seemed not the case for this one.

<b>Lesson number one: Don’t underestimate the other guy’s greed.” </b>

His reply was quick this time.

<b>Did you just quote Scarface? I think I might love you. </b>

Betty could feel her heart start to race beneath her ribs, as yet another blush creeped across her cheeks. She quickly threw her phone face down on her bed with a grin, thinking she might keep him hanging for a little while.

It was 11am now and she had more than enough time to get ready to leave. She glanced back at her phone before she quickly rose from her bed and made her way to the bathroom. She turned the shower on and made sure to grab her razor, she was definitely planning on wearing her shortest pair of pyjama pants tonight, so she needed to make sure she was prepared.

She climbed into the shower, letting her thoughts roam as the water beat into her back. Alice had no idea about Jughead, and Betty was pretty sure that she wouldn’t be so accepting of her staying the night if she did. Must remember not to slip up, she thought to herself.

And then Archie’s voice was in her head <i>“Just be careful.”</i> Careful of what? Jughead? She thought. Even though Betty knew how it would look to an outsider, she felt she knew Jughead well enough to know she didn’t need to be careful. He was not who everyone thought he was. And although she didn’t quite know just how far his charm has gotten him with other girls, she could only presume, there was no pressure.

She shook her head, flicking water everywhere. Of course there was no pressure, there was no nothing. She didn’t even know if he liked her, he could just be mindlessly flirting to pass the time. God knows she was making it easy for him. She couldn’t really lie to herself anymore, there was no denying the fact that she felt some kind of something for Jughead. And the thought of spending some time alone with just him made that fluttery feeling in her chest return tenfold. She sighed deeply before she reached for the vanilla body wash.

She made a beeline straight for her phone once she was back in her room, she had intended to drag it out a bit longer but she knew she was slightly pathetic and just couldn’t. Jughead had sent her another message.

<b>If you start quoting Quinten Tarantino I might just have to marry you right now. </b>

<b>Shall I get my Mia Wallace costume ready for the ceremony? </b>

They spent the next few hours throwing film references back and forward, and Betty was surprised how attractive she found his ability to just run quotes off at bay. They had made plans to watch a film later tonight when JB was asleep, and Betty couldn’t explain why she was so excited.

It was late evening and Betty was at the Jones household now, laid back on the couch watching some trashy reality TV with JB who was coming down from her victory high.

“Two goals, Jelly? That’s amazing.” Betty felt like a proud big sister, which was kind of ironic in a way. Jellybean beamed from the other side of the living room.

“Wish Jug would hurry up and get home so I can brag to him.” Betty laughed, she loved the playful relationship between the two. Jughead wasn’t home yet, although Betty wasn’t surprised. He had mentioned he would be out until late evening, and it was obviously one of those errands Betty wouldn’t dare ask about. Not that it was any of her business. She made her way to the kitchen and busied herself by making some dinner for Jellybean, Gladys had left out ingredients to make mac and cheese. It was almost too simple for Betty’s culinary talent, but she must have left out of her bio.

“I am old enough to feed myself, jeez Mum.” Jellybean sighed, coming into the kitchen behind Betty, she took a seat on one of the island stools. “I swear she still thinks I’m 8.”

“You’re the baby after all.” Betty joked, picking up the saucepan to drain the macaroni. She tried to ignore the way her pulse sped up at the distant sound of a motorbike approaching, then turning down the street.

“I don’t think Jug was ever a baby.” Jellybean pondered. “I swear he just walked out of the womb with that beanie on his head and that stupid scowl on his face.” Both girls burst out into laughter while Betty added the cheese sauce to the macaroni. Jellybeans laughter stopped almost instantly as the front door opened and Jughead lumbered in with his helmet under his arm.

“Oh my god, Jug? What the hell happened to you?” Jellybeans voice was laced with so much concern Betty’s head automatically whipped around to see what was wrong. Her heart leaped into her throat. He’d obviously been involved in some kind of fight, there was a graze on his cheek that was caked with dried blood, and his eye was turning a light purple colour. Jellybean rushed over to him, trying to get a closer look.

“It’s nothing.” Jughead shrugged, locking eyes with Betty before his gaze fell to the floor.

“It doesn’t look lik-”

“Forsythia, leave it.” He snapped, not giving anyone a second glance as he stormed into the hall. Betty was shocked, for more than one reason. She had ever heard Jughead raise his voice to JB like that, nor had she ever seen her look so hurt. And she was also surprised at the fact that Jughead had called her Forsythia, which Betty took at a guess was her real name. Betty cleared her throat before announcing that dinner was ready.

“Is it okay if I eat in my room? I’m kind of tired.” Jellybean sounded deflated, and Betty couldn’t help but wonder if Jughead showing up like this was something that happened regularly. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Of course. Are you alright, JB?” Betty asked as she handed her a bowl full of pasta. Jellybean just shrugged, accepting her dinner with a thanks she headed upstairs. Betty served herself a bowl, and took it into the lounge to eat. She flicked through a few channels, settling on some rom com so distract her. As she ate she couldn’t help feeling a little annoyed that her plans for the night had been soiled. Just as she thought about heading to the spare room herself, Jughead leaned around the doorway, a DVD copy of Inglorious Basterds sticking out between his crossed arms.

“I’m going to have to take back that proposal.” He said lightly, nodding toward the TV. “And here I was, thinking you had good taste.” Betty noticed he wouldn’t look directly at her face. She didn’t reply, instead just watched him as he came and sat beside her on the couch. She could see the tension in his shoulders. He sat on her right side, so she couldn’t see the gash on his face. His hair was damp, though, and she could smell the shampoo he had used. Betty reached out her hand to cradle his chin between her thumb and forefinger, slowly turning his face around so she could get a closer look. The cut was clean, all traces of the dried blood down the drain. Now it was clean Betty could see it wasn’t awfully big, relieved that it probably would heal quickly.

“Do you want some ice, for your eye?” She asked lowly. She could feel his breath on her face, and realising the proximity she dropped her hand from his chin and pulled back. Jughead just nodded slowly, swallowing hard.

“It really doesn’t hurt that bad, and it’s not swelling up. I’m fine, honestly.” He finally looked her in the eye then, and she could see the sincerity in them. “I’m sorry, about before. I didn’t mean to be an asshole.”

“I don’t think it’s me you need to apologise too.” Betty noted. Jughead groaned, dropping his head back against the couch. He brought his hands up to drag down his face.

“Fuck, and I called her by her real name. She’s going to kill me.” Betty couldn’t help but let out a light laugh at the fact that that was his main concern. “She’s going to tell you mine now. And eye for an eye.”

“Is it really that bad?” Betty asked, nudging his side with her shoulder. He gave her a look that gave her the answer.

“You basically already know, you just need to take away a few letters.” He watched her face for a moment, wondering is she was going to try and work it out. Instead she just shrugged.

“You can tell me when you’re ready.” He gave her a small smile, to which she responded with a smirk. “Unless Jellybean gets too it first, of course.” He groaned again. She pulled the DVD from his hand, waving it in front of him. “You still wanna watch this, then?”

“If you do, yeah.” He looked at her hopefully. She nodded quickly, throwing the case back into his lap.

“I’m going to go get changed. You put this in and make some popcorn.” She was leaving the room before he could reply, making her way upstairs to the spare room where she had put all her stuff. She quickly changed into her, almost too short, pyjama shorts and a white loose tank she used for sleeping. She took her hair out from its ponytail, running her fingers through it so it sat nicer. She glanced at herself in the mirror before leaving the room, wondering why the hell she cared so much what she looked in in pyjamas, for god sake. Jellybeans bedroom door is the last in the hall before the stairs, so Betty stood outside and knocked lightly.

“You okay, Jelly?” She calls through the door.

“Yeah, thanks Betty.” Came her reply. “I’m just going to get an early night.”

“Okay, see you in the morning.” Betty reminded herself to check on her again later, just to make double sure she was okay. She could smell the popcorn as she headed down the stairs, slightly surprised at what awaited her in the lounge.

Jughead had turned all the lights off, made the popcorn which was in a bowl in his lap that was covered with the soft throw from the back of the couch. He looked up from the TV where the opening menu was playing to Betty, smiling sweetly he pulled up a corner of the blanket, patting the spot next to him on the couch. She watched his eyes gaze down the length of her legs, feeling a smirk grow on her face at how his eyes lingered longer than they should have. She skipped over and climbed onto the couch next to him.

“You know this isn’t exactly a kind of snuggling film, right?” She teased, pulling the blanket over her legs.

“Oh, Coop. That is where you are mistaken.” He whispered as the film started, bringing his arm to rest against the back of the couch behind Betty. And as they watched Brad Pitt skin some nazis, Jugheads hand fell noticeably closer to Betty’s shoulder every so often, until she could feel his fingertips brushing her skin. He absentmindedly traced circles on the edge of her shoulder, causing goosebumps to rise along her arm. She shuddered at the feeling, and Jughead glanced down at her face.

“Are you cold?” He asked, and Betty could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at him. She shook her head lightly, not wanting to look away from the screen. She could feel Jugheads gaze lingering on her face, causing the heat to rise in her chest. “You’re gorgeous, Betty. I just, I had to tell you that at least once.” The sentiment caught her by surprise, but she tried to mask it. She also tried to mask the rate at which her heart was beating considering he thought she was gorgeous.

“Just once?” She queried, shooting him some side eye. She saw him roll his eyes.

“Don’t push it, buttercup.” He joked before wrapping his arm around Betty completely and pulling her into his side. She snuggled her head into his chest, finding his heart beat was something that soothed her. The way it beat, hard and sure beneath her, confirming that she really was here. Somehow. She felt him sigh as his cheek came to rest against the top of her head. “Thanks for not asking any questions, about earlier.” He said quietly, into her hair.

“I figured I wouldn’t want to know anyway.” Betty whispered back, grasping at his shirt where her hand laid on his chest. He didn’t reply, instead he placed a light kiss into her hair. They stay like that until the movie finished, snuggled into one another. “Can you believe he worked on that script for nearly a decade?” Betty asked as she watched the credits roll down the screen.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s so good.” He laughed, more than a little biased. Betty poked her elbow into his side.

“Alright, Tarantino fanboy. Next time I get to choose, deal?” Betty crooked her neck to look up at Jughead, hoping like hell that he was on the same page as her. She would watch every film that’s ever been made if it meant she could lay into him like this, enclosed in his arm. He bopped the top of her nose with his finger.

“Deal. Thanks for babysitting me, Coop.” He smiled down at her as his fingers caressed her cheek. She took in a deep breath.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You’re going to anyway, aren’t you?” He joked, still smiling. Betty nodded her head slightly.

“It’s not that I’m complaining, because I’m having a lovely night.” She loved the way his eyes lit up the room, the depth of them emphasised by the low light in the room. “But, do I really need to be here? Can’t you watch JB?” She watched his face, waiting for a reaction, anxious that she may have poured salt into an unnecessary wound. She watched his shoulders deflate as his eyes flittered from her own, coming to focus on the wall behind her head.

“Ain’t that the million dollar question, huh?” He huffed out a humourless laugh. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but me and my Mum aren’t exactly best friends.” Betty snorted at the sarcasm, that fact sure wasn’t lost on her. His eyes fell back to hers. “But, long story short. She doesn’t trust me enough to look after Jellybean.” Now that he was looking at her again, she could see the ache that he buried deep. Betty’s brow furrowed.

“How could she not? You’re a great big brother.” Jughead widened his eyes at her, referencing back to earlier in the evening. Betty sighed and pulled away from him, choosing to sit up and face him directly. “Come on, Jug, anyone can see how much you freaking love your sister just by watching you with her. Surely you’re the one person in the world your Mum should trust her with?” She reached out and grasped his hand between her own and felt his fingers tighten around her own.

“I remind her too much of my Dad, Betts. I can see it whenever she looks at me. She’ll deny it if anyone asks, but I know it.” His grip on her hand tightened even more as he spoke, and his gaze was so heavy Betty could almost see it, a thick haze in the air. “I can fucking feel it. If she doesn’t hate me yet, she must be close too it.”

“Jug.. ” Betty’s voice is low. She hadn’t meant for her line of questioning to bring her here, but she wanted to know everything he was willing to tell her.

“I know, I know how it sounds but I can’t help feeling that way.” Jugheads voice comes out so weak that it physically hurts Betty to hear. She raised a hand to his face, caressing his cheek with her thumb. Her other was still grasped between Jugheads hands.

“You are justified to feel how you feel, Jughead.” Her voiced trailed off, wanting to ask a question that she already knew the answer too. But he hadn’t told her directly, and she wasn’t about to give away what she already knew. “Your Dad, is he..” Jughead swallowed hard before answering, his gaze fell to their clasped hands.

“He’s in prison, yeah. Mum just thinks I’m going to end up like him. Like I’m some kind of carbon copy. I look like him, I think my leather gives her some kind of fucking flashbacks.” His eyes flick back up to hers again, with so much heat it takes Betty by surprise. She swore almost feel the heat behind them, warming her skin. “But I’m not, Betty. Im not gonna end up like him.” He started to shake his head repeatedly, back and forth back and forth. Betty pulled her other hand from his grasp, bringing it to his other cheek so she could hold his face still.

“Hey, hey, I know.” Betty cooed, trying to reassure him.

“I love my Dad. I do. But I don’t want to be him. I’m not going to be him. I’m going to college, I’m going to get out.” He was still shaking, Betty’s hands didn’t do much in the way of stopping that but she sure wasn’t about to drop them. His voice was no longer weak, it came out sure, strong. There were tears in his eyes, but they were from anger. From frustration. “This is all just a means to and end. I swear it. I won’t be him. This won’t be my life.” And she believes it, she believes him.

“Juggie, hey, I know. I know.” Betty tried to calm him down, stroking her hands down his face. “You’re worth so much more than any of this, you know that. I know that. The people who matter, know that.” Her thumb caught a tear that betrayed him, trailing down his face. His eyes are trained on her face, tracing all her features before catching her gaze. The air was static between them. Betty was almost to afraid to move for for fear of being shocked. Jugheads tongue ran along his bottom lip as his gaze flicked between Betty’s eyes and her mouth. Suddenly Betty was parched and Jughead was the only means of survival she could see.

“I.. Betty,” His voice trailed off, silently asking permission. She gave it too him in the form of pressing her mouth to his. Softly at first, her fingertips pressing hard into the skin of his face. Their lips stick together slightly as she pulled away, and she opened her eyes in time to see a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. That was enough of an invitation for Betty to kiss him again, harder this time. More sure. And she must have done something right, because Jugheads hands suddenly gripped her waist tightly. Betty whimpered into his mouth at the pressure. He used his leverage to push her back against the couch, one of his hands came to grasp her neck, his fingers tangling into her hair, tugging lightly. She ran her tongue against his, willing to to tangle with his own. He’s hovered over her now, bracing himself on his forearms. But he’s not close enough for Betty’s liking, and she lets him know by wrapping her legs around his waist, locking them together and pulling him down on top of her.

She could feel him against her core, the friction making her burn. Bucking her hips up towards him, she rolled against the hardness in his jeans, revelling in the groan that grew in his throat. His mouth traced kisses along her jaw and down her neck, his teeth grazed against her collarbone.

“Jug, wait, hold on.” She pushed lightly against his chest, only wanting him take his weight from her. But Jughead sat up quickly, raising his hands up, palm out. She couldn’t help but miss him against her.

“We take this at your pace, Betty. Whatever you wanna do.” He said it so sincerely, Betty almost choked on her words. She hadn’t mean for him to take it that way, he wasn’t pushing her to do anything. Hell, she had kissed him first after all.

“I just, I’ve never..” She gave him a lopsided smile as she sat back up beside him.

“Anything?” He raised his brow, the surprise evident in his tone. She looked away shyly, shaking her head. It’s not that it was something to be embarrass about, she was only 16. But here, with Jughead, she was overwhelmed with the need to impress him. And it was ridiculous. He grabbed her face gently, pulling it back to his his own as he kissed her nose.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, it’s probably a good thing, because I can be pretty territorial..” He widened his eyes in suggestion, causing Betty to laugh lightly. Her voice was light, and she closer her eyes before she spoke.

“It’s just, I know you’ve probably got people to compare me too and I’m worried I won’t li-”

“Woah, hey.” He shook her head lightly between his hands. She opened her eyes to look at him, and his smile is almost too much. It was like looking directly into the sun. “Nobody compares to you, Coop. Trust me. And I mean,” He shrugged, “I’ve had a few starters but never a main course.”

She laughed, hard, “You what?” He shook his head.

“Sorry, crappy analogy. I’ve done other things, but I’ve never had sex before.” He said it just like that, he didn’t shy away from it.

“Really, seriously?” She was genuinely shocked. He laughed at the look on her face.

“Yes, Betty. I swear. Everything you may have heard has all been lies.” He winked. “Except I guess I am kinda cute.” She smacked his arm before pressing her mouth to his again, pulling away only for a moment.

“You’re cute as fuck, Jones. Now take me to bed. Doing this on your Mothers couch feels like a betrayal.” She faked a shudder before accepting the hand he held out for her. He stopped to kiss her so many times on the way to his bedroom it took nearly 10 minutes to get up the stairs. They finally made it to his room, and she only had a moment to take in his minimalist approach to décor before she’s pushed into his bed on her back. She took him in as he pulled off his t shirt, all his angles and dips of muscle. He was a hell of a lot leaner than that leather jacket would let you believe.

And then his mouth was on hers again, wet and heavy. He was being cautious, but Betty wanted none of that. She grabbed one of his hands from where it lay above her head, leading it down her side to rest against her thigh. He pulled away from her mouth to give her a look that said ever so clearly <i>are you sure? </i> She nodded so vigorously her head could have come away from her neck. He mouth was back on her neck, it seemed to be his favourite spot. The hand she had placed on her thigh trailed back up her side, snaking underneath her tank top. She was suddenly aware of every inch of her skin as his fingers caressed the skin underneath her breast.

He let his fingers wonder so slowly, Betty knew it was for her benefit. She could tell him to stop anytime, and of course he would. But she trusted him with this. With herself. So she welcomed the feeling that took over her whole body when his fingers danced over her nipple so slightly. She welcomed every feeling Jughead Jones would cause with open arms. He swept and pulled at her gently, and she could feel the heat polling between her thighs. She had never been overcome with such need in her entire life.

“Juggie.. Please.” She spoke so lightly into his mouth, raising her hips to meet his, letting him know just exactly what she was asking for. He led his hand back down to her thing, trailing along the her of her pyjama shorts.

“These legs, Coop.” He let out a low whisper and shook his head. “Honestly.”

Betty couldn’t really find any words to reply, instead using her tongue for another purpose. Her breath hitched as she felt his hand slip beneath her shorts. He ran his fingers along her lightly, groaning at the dampness of the material.

“Fucking hell, Betty.” He looked down at her and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth shyly. He held eye contact as he quicker his pace, rubbing over the material of her panties. Betty’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, wondering why it never felt this good when she did it herself. She surprised herself with the moan that escaped her mouth as Jugheads fingers slipped underneath her panties.

There was no way she could ever put into words how this felt. Every nerve ending was standing upright, tingling every time he moved his fingers against her. Her head fell back against the pillow with a thud, giving Jughead full access to her neck yet again. He sucked on the base of her neck at the same time he slipped a single digit inside of her, slowly. The shock the pain and pleasure caused her eyes to open, her pupils blown wide. Jughead was looking down at her, the look on his face one Betty had never seen before.

“I’ll go slow,” He said softly, “If you need me to stop, you just tell me, okay?” Tears stung behind Betty’s eyes, not from the pain but instead from the way Jughead was looking at her. As if she was ethereal. “You are so beautiful.”

“Don’t.. Don’t stop.” Was all Betty could manage in reply. He peppered more kisses down her neck as added a second finger into her, moving slowly to let her adjust. When her moans became more certain, Jughead started to move his thumb against her clit. Then it was all over for Betty. “Jughead! Fuck, oh my..” He quickened his pace, curling his fingers inward slightly to hit that spot that made her cuss. His thumb worked quick circles against her clit. Given it was a first for Betty, all this partnered with Jughead sucking on the base of her neck meant she fell apart against his hand quicker than she would have liked. The scratches she left down his back evidence of how much she had enjoyed herself.

He wiped his fingers on the bed sheet before wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against his side.

“You okay, baby?” He cooed, kissing her temple.

“Jughead.” She was still catching her breath. “That was.. I can’t find an appropriate enough word for whatever the hell that was. Except, thank you?” She felt him laugh against her. She couldn’t fight the yawn that escaped her, and Jughead pulled her even tighter against him. He placed another kiss on her forehead.

“You did so good. Let’s get you some rest, huh?” Suddenly Betty was exhausted, she didn’t even have enough energy to muster a response. Instead she just wrapped her arms around Jugheads middle and rest her head again his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart sing her to sleep. Just as the claws of sleep were pulling her in, she felt a Jughead whisper into her hair.

“You are something else, Betty Cooper.” He sighed. “I’m so done for.”

She fell asleep with what could possibly the happiest heart on the planet.

Patience

the series read as follows:

SupermanMondayCheezy PouffsBaconStumblingTrail Mix …  PunchFridayPreparationUncle MudlerNormalBackseatMudler-senseThe FBIUnthinkable

___________________

Innocently mowing the lawn, Scully looked up at Betty and waved as the older woman made her way quickly across the street. Seeing what she took as a frantic face and not a happy to see you face, Scully cut the motor, “everything okay?”

Betty walked quickly past her, taking Scully’s arm as she did, “you haven’t watched the news, have you?”

Without question, Scully pulled herself from Betty’s and tore up the front steps, banging through the screen door, “Mom?! Mom? Turn on the news.”

Keep reading

21 Questions

This is my first time writing a Bughead fanfic and it’s still jumbled in my head so I hope you bear with me.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of he characters or places in this story unless otherwise specified.

————–

First Question

The bell to Pop’s Chock'lit Shoppe rang as the door opened. Only a few people could be found sitting at the local town favorite as most were enjoying Riverdale High’s homecoming dance. For the selected few who had opted not to join the overrated festivities, the confines of the four walls of the shop brought an unusual sense of comfort.

A girl with blonde hair and in a pink dress walked straight inside into a booth at the far corner. She placed her usual order of Strawberry Milkshake but this time with extra whip cream. It was a special occasion to indulge in the calories after all. A few minutes later, a tall glass of sugary and sinful beverage was placed in front of her.

She sighed in resignation before reaching for her picker upper. Her tongue was ready to taste the mouth watering goodness when the tall glass was pulled far from her reach and in front of a crouching boy who wore a crown shaped beanie on top of his messy bed of hair. Her mouth dropped and stayed open for a few minutes, staring at he boy who drank her most awaited shake down to the last drop. She was at a loss for words. She wanted to shout at the boy who selfishly stole her last hope for a better night but no words came.

As if nothing happened, he adjusted in his seat and fired his laptop open and began typing, totally oblivious to the growing anger building in the blonde girl’s chest. A few minutes of silence passed and he still hadn’t looked at her once to apologize or explain his actions. He kept typing as if she wasn’t in front of him with an angry glare in her eye.

She cleared her throat, finally finding a small amount of sound come out of her mouth, but his attention to whatever he was typing did not falter. She cleared it again, this time ensuring that it was loud enough for him to hear and respond to. His eyes broke it’s connection from the laptop screen and the blue ocean met green forest. She felt a hitch in her breath at the sudden connection. The intensity of his stare brought chills to her spine and she almost felt bad for disturbing his concentration. She almost apologized had it been not for her realization that she wouldn’t have bothered him if he hadn’t stolen her favorite drink. He raised an eyebrow and a playful smirk appeared on his face. Had it been another time, she would be game to play their little debate just like the old times but now all she could do was sigh in defeat.

“I’m not in the mood Juggie.” She finally said after their long staring game. He shrugged and closed the lid of his laptop. He waved his hand at Pops to which he was answered with a nod, a fair and mutual exchange between regulars.

“So tell me, what did our beloved Archiekins do this time?” He said while leaning on the table.

“What makes you think it’s Archie?” Betty countered, hoping for even 1% chance that not everyone knows about what she felt for Archie. Well except for Archie himself.

“Come on Betts, don’t insult my knowledge. You practically loved him since childhood. Your eyes yearns for him whenever he’s not around and if I didn’t know any better, you have a magnet in your body that’s being pulled towards him.” He said rolling his eyes.

She chewed on her lip in anxiety. Was she really that obvious? “What makes you think he did something then?” She challenged, trying my best from delaying the admission of what had transpired tonight at the Homecoming after party at Cheryl’s.

“Let’s see. You’re wearing a dress that’s screaming Homecoming dance so that means you attended the overrated dance which is "the highlight of everyone’s high school life”.“ He made quotation gestures with his fingers as he said the last bit.

"However, instead of wasting the night with the boy of your dreams doing God knows what, you’re sitting here at Pops and having a conversation with me, the last person on your "potential dating list” - if Included at all and the person you haven’t talked to since summer started.“

Betty opened her mouth to say something but no words came out. She tried to process his words but found herself at a loss. She felt bad at his last statement since it was true that she hadn’t had a decent conversation with her reserved friend since before freshman year ended. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried.

During her internship, she attempted several times to contact Jughead to check on him but it was either ignored or responded with one word texts that screamed end of conversation. She thought he was going through something at the moment and didn’t want to push him so she gave him some space to breathe and hoped that when she returned they would fall into their normal routine and become the best of friends again. Except, everything had turned out worse.

"So it’s either you just want to remember your Homecoming dance spending time at Pops and eating - drinking rather, Strawberry Milkshakes or Archie did a stupid move and hurt you.” The blonde girl sighed and looked at her lap in embarrassment. Had she been so transparent?

“Well, the milkshake is already a no considering you drank all of mine.” She said softly while lowering down her head.

“Here you go.” Two plates of burger and fries and a tall glass of chocolate milkshake appeared in front of them. Jughead gave a quick nod to Pops before digging in his favorite food.

Betty was surprised when the extra plate was pushed in front of her. She really wasn’t up for eating thus the reason for her milkshake order.

“You have to eat Betts, last time you drank a milkshake on an empty stomach, you were brought to the hospital.” He said before indulging in his burger.

She felt warmth in her chest realizing that Jughead was just looking out for her when he drank her favorite treat. She pushed the nagging thought at the back of her head as she already felt bad enough tonight and she really needed a break from all the negativity.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll buy you a new one if you promise to finish the burger or the fries.” He said taking a last chomp on his burger and now turning his attention to the side snack.

Betty smiled weakly and started munching on the fries. The burger was really too much for her appetite.

“So do we play 21 questions or am I gonna wait for you to open up?” He said.

She was surprised at his proposition and thought very carefully on what to do next. If she opened up to him easily, she won’t get a chance to ask him things that had been nagging at her since summer started. She saw the opportunity of finding out what truly happened between her two best friends and was determined to get it out from her dark haired companion.

She gave him a look and was about to open her mouth in response when he beat her right to it. “Right 21 questions it is.”

Betty was surprised at how easily Jughead could read her mind and how much he knows about the way her mind works. She would’ve blamed it on being best friends since childhood but she could recall Jughead being a bit shy around her until 3rd grade. If it hadn’t been for Archie’s failed attempt at getting his two best friends to like each other, they wouldn’t have gone past the acquaintance stage. But that’s a story for another time.

“Okay Juggie let’s play. But the rule is, we get to ask each other one question each–” she started

“Well that is the point of the game–” he cut her off.

“–each day.” She finished. He couldn’t hide the surprise look on his face when what she said had registered in his mind.

“Excuse me? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” He had his hopes that he understood her perfectly well but he just had to get confirmation from the girl next door.

“Well, we need it Juggie. After weeks of ignoring my texts and phone calls, I figured, this is our only way of catching up. So, are you up for it? 21 days of being stuck with my probing questions?” He was surprised to see a smile on her lips. She had a playful glint in her eye that almost made him spill everything to her before he caught himself.

“Fine. But we each get a free pass for those questions that we really don’t want to answer.” She nodded at the additional rules he made.

“Okay I agree. We can’t say know when the other triggers for the 21 questions. Like when we’re at school and I feel like asking you, you have to answer. Got it?” He pondered for a while before agreeing to my terms.

“Fine but the 21 days doesn’t have to be done straight. We can take breaks every now and then. Deal?”

She looked hesitant, as if he found a loophole to her strategy of opening up to her. But she resolved in her head that she just had to really think about her questions to get the most out of their game. Make it seem like he had to use the free pass to every question then go for home run.

“Also, whatever is shared here will not be disclosed to anyone else. Okay?” She added which gained a smirk from the boy.

“I get it Betts. And it’s not as if I have someone to tell.” He said rolling his eyes.

Betty felt a tug at her heart when she realized that Jughead had no one. As in no one. He used to have them - Betty and Archie - but then when he and Archie had a fall out and he started ignoring her, he wasn’t left with anyone else. She felt guilty for not trying harder to make him talk to her. She felt that she failed her obligation of binding the two friends. She regretted going to her internship
And leaving the two boys to themselves. The wave of emotions that passed through her was so overwhelming that she started to feel her nails digging at her palms.

A pair of warm hands covered her hands and pried it open. She was surprised at the look of worry that was evident on his face. “Hey. It wasn’t your fault Betts. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

She opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She would just reserve whatever it was for their 21 days of questioning. She nodded, squeezed his hand before pulling away.

“So.” He started breaking off the awkward air that had build up. “Is it a deal then?”

“Deal. Let’s flip on who goes first.” She pulled out a coin in her pink purse and placed it on her two fingers, ready to flip.

Jughead gave a small nod signaling her to do it. She flicked her fingers.

“Heads.” He called while the coin was up in the air.

“Tails.” She responded before catching the coin and putting it down on the table. They stared at each other for a while, hearts beating at top speed. They were anxious on who’s going to ask the questions first and what questions were in store for them.

Breaking off the connection, they both turned their attention to the coin which displayed tails. A triumphant smile played on Betty’s features and Jughead couldn’t help but laugh. It looked like she just won the lottery.

“Hmmm what to ask..” she said in deep thought. Jughead had hoped that she wouldn’t ask about his family. It was way too personal for a first question and he knew he might use his pass if that were the case. He wasn’t ready to open that can of worms yet and drag her into his messed up life.

“Okay, here’s an easy one. Why did you ignore my texts and calls this summer?” She said, her eyes had lost its playful glint and was replaced by a piercing gaze. One that could devour a lie that he was planning on saying so Jughead opted with the truth.

“Archie and I kind of gotten out of track this summer. I’m not sure if he mentioned that to you. So I thought, I didn’t want to burden you with the choice of who you were going to remain friends with. I was just looking out for you Betts.”

She felt anger bubble in her chest. She wanted to tell him off for doing something that “he thought was best for her” just like what her parents were doing to her and Polly. She was so through with people deciding what’s good for her and what’s not. It’s as if they think that she cannot decide on it for herself.

She was about to tell him off when he continued talking. “And I kind of wanted to protect myself from the pain of not being chosen. I didn’t want to get mad at you or anything so I just decided to cut things off for us. That way, I would be the bad guy and not you.”

Her anger melted away and was replaced with remorse. Who would’ve known that Jughead felt this way about their friendship? That he thought she would instantly drop him if he and Archie had a fall out. She felt bad for making it seem that Archie would always be her first choice and that Jughead would always end up on his own.

She reached her hand out to his and gave it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry Juggie if I made it seem like I would leave you anytime. I swear, that wouldn’t have been the case. You know I care about you. I wish you would’ve talked to me about it.” She babbled, feeling the build up of tears in her eyes.

“Hey. It was my decision Betty. This is exactly why I decided it on my own. I didn’t want to trouble you with that choice. I didn’t want you to lose sleep on it. I didn’t want you to make a decision that would make you doubt yourself or make you regret something. I’m okay with that Betty and I don’t blame you for it. Not even a little.”

She wiped her eyes with the tissue that he offered and nodded. “But that’s gonna change now Juggie. Promise me you’ll answer my calls and texts from now on. I can manage being your friend you know. Just because you and Archie had a misunderstanding, doesn’t mean I’ll stop being your friend.”

He hesitated. He wanted so much to talk to Betty again but was afraid to be vulnerable and get hurt. He knew it was a fact that Archie and Betty would end up together and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay and see it happen right before his eyes. For the most part, he wanted to spare himself of the pain of having to deal with Betty with someone else.

He knew he couldn’t deny it. He knew that the girl next door has a special place in his heart and no matter how hard he tried to deny or forget about it, it would always creep up on him at the end of the day. He was far too reeled in to escape the feelings he had for his best friend Betty Cooper.

At first he thought it was just a passing crush. He blamed the lack of female companions for his growing feelings towards the blonde girl. But when a girl had liked him and tried to make a move that didn’t end well, he knew that the lack of a female friend was definitely not the reason for it. As they grew older and as Betty had developed into a more mature, compassionate and beautiful girl, he couldn’t help but like her more than how best friends should like each other.

Betty was not the prettiest girl in Riverdale High. Well at least, that was what the school has declared. That title, for some odd reason Jughead couldn’t comprehend, belonged to Cheryl Blossom. She wouldn’t even pass as the smartest given that the holder for that one was Ethel Muggs. Not even the most talented as this was held by Josie McCoy. Betty was among those who were ranked in the middle. The average girls who occasionally got a second look from guys.

But for Jughead, Betty Cooper sure was something and it was beyond reason how other guys couldn’t see it. Especially their redhead friend Archie Andrews. He doesn’t understand how Archie can appreciate so many girls in their school and yet he couldn’t cast a glance at what he already has - the most perfect girl there is.

“Earth to Juggie?” Jughead snapped out of his thought and landed back at Pop’s.

“Of course. I’ll keep that in mind.” He said, not wanting to discuss further how Betty would always be there. He knew if they dwell on their topic more, he might say things he would regret.

“Okay, your turn. Ask away.” She said sitting properly, back straight, chin up with her hands folded in front of her. It was almost as he she was prepping for an interview question.

Jughead breathed in and out before firing away. “What happened tonight with Archie?”

Betty knew he would ask it. She knew and tried to prepare herself for it but no amount of preparation could help her when he finally uttered the question.

See, answering the question would make what happened between her and Archie real. Inasmuch as she wants to forget what he said and return to the happy bubble they used to call friendship, Betty knew that things would change from now on. That Archie would no longer be her comfort place but someone who would remind her of rejection and disappointment. Answering Jughead’s question would only mean that they can never go back and pretend everything was okay.

But Betty knew this couldn’t have been the worst question she would face. She knew that she shouldn’t waste a pass for this since by tomorrow, everyone would know about what had happened at Cheryl’s anyway.

“I told Archie my feelings tonight..” she started slowly. A lump forming in her throat suggested that she was about to cry again. “And he made it clear that we’re not on the same page about it.”

“Betty I’m..” he started but she held a hand to stop him. She wanted to get everything out of her system first.

“After the homecoming, we went to Cheryl’s after party. I just wanted to forget about the rejection so I thought maybe spending more time with him at the after party would make him change his mind and see me like how I see him.” She said recounting what had happened earlier.

“So Cheryl, being Cheryl, thought it would be fun to have a 7 minutes in heaven game starting with Archie. She let the bottle spin and it stopped in between me and Veronica. But she made the call of saying it pointed to Veronica. I swear that girl will be the death of me.” She sighed. Jughead could feel how it was getting harder for her to talk and wanted to stop her but then again, he knew letting it out would keep her from digging her nails in her palms.

“I knew it was impossible that nothing would happen to them. The way Archie stared at her when we first saw her here at Pop’s was everything I needed to see to know he’s attracted to her. It didn’t help that outside the closet, Cheryl and Reggie kept thinking up of stories of what was happening inside. After that I couldn’t take it anymore. I got up and left and went here.” She finished and finally looked at Jughead’s face.

His face was scrunched up in thought at what Betty had shared with him. First of all, he really thought that his ex-best friend was stupid beyond his understanding. How could he prefer a new girl over the girl who was always there for him? Second, they could give the guy the benefit of the doubt but then again Jughead thought this was Archie Andrews. He may care a lot for Betty but Jughead doubted that he would pass up on the opportunity to kiss a girl he found attractive. No offense to his ex-best friend but that was the truth.

“I’m sorry Betts.” Jughead, despite being the eloquent aspiring novelist that he is, couldn’t find the best words to comfort his friend. If this had been Archie, he could’ve said a list of things for making Betty feel that way. But this was different. He was walking on eggshells with her. He didn’t want to hurt Betty anymore than she already is.

“Why are you apologizing Juggie? It’s not your fault.” She said before giving a small smile and squeezing his hand.

She was surprised when Jughead, as if lost in thought, started to intertwine their fingers together. She felt comforted by the warmth of his hands. She observed her dark haired friend and saw how tired his face looked. It seemed as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. The bags underneath his eyes spoke of countless sleepless nights writing on his laptop. She felt his thumb draw circles at her hand and slowly her eyes started to close.

Betty began to wonder things about Jughead. What would happen if it had been Jughead who Betty had fond feelings for? She wasn’t sure if it would’ve been easier considering her friend’s take on romantic relationships. She knew Jughead wasn’t the type seeing his lack of affection towards the girls in their year. At least that was what it seemed like. But then again, as if her memory played with her, she began to remember.

She began to drift off back to a particular memory in middle school. Betty, Archie and Jughead were like the Golden Trio of their year. They were inseparable. Wherever Betty was, Archie and Jughead were sure to follow. During that time, Jughead had started developing - his voice lowering a few tones and his height increasing almost half an inch each month. Puberty had hit him good, as what people would say.

In those times, Betty was sure enough that she had developed a girly crush on her best friend. Contrary to what people said, that she had been in love with Archie since forever, Betty had actually liked their dark and mysterious friend first. She was drawn to his witty humor. He would always say something that made Betty laugh and she looked forward to their hang outs after school.

But Jughead, being Jughead, had no romantic inclinations towards anyone as he found it troublesome to like a girl. He had based it from a time when a girl had confessed to him and wanted him to be her boyfriend. When he rejected the idea, she started off spreading rumors of him being weird and gay. That’s when he placed being in a relationship to his things he’ll never do list.

Betty was looking forward to seeing her two best friends after spending a week at her grandma’s. She was on her way to the Andrews household and spotted the two huddled up near the garage. She overheard them speaking about Jughead and the girl who spread rumors and was about to announce her presence when Jughead said something that made her chest hurt.

“I swear Arch, this relationship thing? This isn’t for me. I wouldn’t want to be associated with anyone. It’s too troublesome.” He said, frustration evident in his face.

Betty then resolved to forget her crush towards her friend and keep everything platonic between her and her dark haired boy. After that, she and Archie started to get along pretty well at the start of their Freshman Year, Jughead being a bit distant from her and all. She guessed that Jughead didn’t exempt her from his “stay away from complicated women” policy. Archie had been sweet and took all of her attention from Jughead and the rest is history.

*Buzz Buzz*

Betty snapped out of her reverie and pulled away from Jughead’s hands to retrieve her phone.

“Hello mom?” She answered.

“Betty? Where are you? Your dad says you weren’t at school when he dropped by.” She asked, her voice sounded a bit concerned.

“I’m at Pop’s mom. I left the dance early.” She saw the look Jughead gave her as if asking if she was in trouble but he shook her head. “I’m going home in a while.”

“Well your dad’s on his way home. Want him to pick you up?”

“Sure mom. I’ll wait for him here.” She then cut the call and placed her phone back in her bag.

“To be continued?” She smiled at Jughead. He smiled back before nodding at her.

It was 5 minutes later when she heard the familiar honk of their card signaling that it was time to go home.

She was getting up from her seat and saying goodbye when she recalled something he had said earlier.

“Oh and Juggie? You’re not the last person.” She said in a quiet voice that he almost missed.

“Excuse me?” He said, wanting to clarify if he had indeed heard it correctly.

“I meant, you’re wrong. You’re not the last person . Not the first maybe but definitely not the last on that potential date list.” She said with a smile that almost shattered his every belief of mediocre relationships and archetypical teenage romances. She then walked away not waiting for his answer.

He shook his head in amusement. Betty Cooper was indeed an interesting girl. He hated to admit it but he was looking forward to the next time they play the game.

blonde roast [yumikuri & eruri]

21.“You just give off the impression that you want to murder everyone you look at.” 

@kittyboo8015 as a thanks for 200 followers :)

This wasn’t really where I saw this going… At all. Equal parts yumikuri and eruri, accidentally. Coffeeshop cliché. I hope you like this one Kitty. I call her Krista in this… They’re college age. Levi is late-twenties. Erwin is a lot less old than Ymir says. Poor babe.

[~2.4k of Levi & Ymir somehow being friends, awkward flirting, coffeeshop au]




It was five o’clock.  


Ymir knew it was five o’clock because Levi always got antsy.  He wiped the espresso machine down twice, refilled the grinders, and then cleaned off each of the tables with mechanic, jerky swipes.  He did this every day, like a tiny angry wind-up toy, and had since she started three weeks ago.


“What, you think he’s gonna stick around today?” Ymir watched Levi out of the corner of her eye while she made a latte.


Levi didn’t answer, just ducked his head very slightly and wiped down the register.  Ymir wondered if he knew the tips of his ears flushed pink.  She shrugged and put the latte on the end of the bar.


“Y’know,” she said, leaning on the bar next to Levi not particularly caring if the customer got their drink.  “If you smiled at the guy, you’d probably have his number already.  Amongst other things.”


“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Levi grumbled, glancing at the door, and then turning to find something else to wipe down.


“I’m talking about his dick,” Ymir said.  It was enormously satisfying to watch Levi sputter.  “Although, do you know how to smile?”


Levi whirled on her wielding the dishrag and his snarl like weapons at the same time the front door jingled.  His eyes widened.  


A rush of sympathetic adrenalin fizzled in Ymir’s stomach.  “Go get him, shorty,” she bent down to mutter in Levi’s ear, clapping him on the shoulder and taking the rag.


“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled under his breath.  He gripped the countertop too tight as he braced himself.


Keep reading

A Broken Family

Pairings and Characters: Tony Stark X Reader. Reader x Avengers

Word Count:1361

Warnings: angst,angry wife 

Permanent Tag List: @sybil-howlett @palaiasaurus64 @sherlockholmesisbae  @redroomproperty  @alwaysoutoftheordinary @withouthannah @metaphysicalmisha@andybubblebath @secretninjachild @whatshernamemaria               @pou-noikiazeis-to-oneiro @alwaysenjoythelifeyoulive@niallandsebastianaremylife @raindancer2004  @v-esperteen  @purpledolphin-f  @sour-kangaroo1998 @princeffreeshgoddessofgreatbooty @melizzzabeth

Please ignore the cringe worthy writing this is from the time when I was not so good at writing. Not like I am now, But still. 


Y/N woke up with a throbbing pain in her neck. She opened her eyes,adjusting to the all too familiar lighting of her and her husband’s bedroom. But this time it was different.

This time instead of waking up with her face buried in his chest and his arms around her waist; she woke up with her head resting on his hand. Last night Y/N had been sitting on the floor next to his bed,crying and praying to God,that Tony would be alright. As the night progressed she grew tired and fell asleep. This time instead of waking up to a perfectly normal mundane bedroom,she woke up to her husband,who was attached to wires and heart rate monitors. The familiar beeping of which she had been accustomed to after the two nights she spent with Tony in the hospital.

Rubbing her eyes Y/N stood up from the floor,stretching to rid herself of the stiff feeling she had all over her body. Deciding on taking a shower she made her way towards to the bathroom. Not even bothering to look at her face in the mirror Y/N stepped out of her clothes, and stepped underneath a cold shower. “Jarvis please play my shower playlist"She asked the A.I. “Your wish is my command Mrs Stark.” Soon enough the song started playing. The robot’s reply had made her smile just a tad bit. Y/N then started on her daily shower routine.

After stepping out of the shower Y/N stepped into the walk-in-closet that was linked to the bathroom. Dressing herself in another set of pajamas,she walked over to the vanity. While brushing her hair,she looked at a face which didn’t’t seem like it was her’s anymore. She felt like she had lost twenty years of her life,worrying over Tony the past four days. What had happened you might ask?

After returning from Siberia Tony had turned to his old habit of drinking rather quickly.  He blamed himself for everything that had happened. Eventually the stress took its toll on him and he experienced a heart attack. A panicked and confused Y/N had rushed him to the hospital where after his condition had settled,the expert team of doctors decided to put Tony in a medicated coma for 4-5 days,so his stress levels could lower.  

Hearing some commotion in the room,Y/N put down her hair brush down and walked outside to see what the matter was. After opening the door Y/N was met by faces,she once called family but no more.“What the hell are you people doing here?” Y/N asked,the team of Earth’s mightiest heroes.“Who gave you permission to enter my house?” “Y/N What are you talking about?” Steve asked,trying to be clueless.“What am I talking about?"She scoffed. "You are the reason my husband is in that bed right now. You are the reason,not two days ago he was fighting for his life,while you guys ran away like fucking cowards. How did you even know,he was sick? Are you monitoring us for threat watch now?"Y/N snapped.

"Look Y/N we never meant for this to happen."Natasha spoke walking towards her."Don’t get me started Widow,you were the one who betrayed him.” “Its not her fault Y/N and you know it."Clint stated,running a hand through this hair. He knew very well where this conversation was gonna lead, the team broken apart. According to him this team was like a married couple,who were polar opposites. They never agreed on anything and one day it was all gonna blow up. As Banner had said the first time they met,they were a time bomb,ticking away,waiting to be lasted off. And this was it,this was their explosion,this was the divorce between the married couple,this was the family breaking apart and there was nothing that could be done to save them.

"Yeah,that’s right. Its not her fault.It’s not your fault,its not even Rogers fault. Its nobody’s fault except that man lying in the bed over there."Y/N pointed towards Tony who was laying there,peacefully,not a clue of what was happening around him. Perhaps it was the only time he was at peace Y/N thought. Because it was something that had not been granted to him in real life. Maybe a few selected moments here and there but,not always not like a normal man should be. But he wasn’t  normal though,was he? He was Tony Stark for God’s sake! How could he ever be normal?

"30 minutes. 30 minutes is all I give you. Pack your things and get the fuck off,of my property,before I have to take armed action against ad believe me I am not fooling around.” “What? Are you serious Y/N?” Wanda exclaimed.“Yes I am serious. There is the door. I thought you like freedom? There you go,you have it now. Its better than keeping you in a mansion with every facility in this world to protect you. ain’t it?"She said. "C'mon!  This is clearly not the best time."The Captain muttered ushering everyone out of the room."FYI Captain! No time is the best time,so don’t bother showing me your face or anyone else for that matter."Y/N yelled out.

"Oh god!"Y/N gasped once they were out of the room. "Oh Tony,what the hell did just happen?"Y/N talked to her unconscious husband,settling down beside him."I am so sorry Tony, I am so sorry.’‘A tear slipped out from her eye,followed by another,and another,till it turned into sobbing.” I am so sorry I cold’t protect you from this Tony.I am so sorry I couldn’t be there for you. I am sorry,I am so sorry. I am sorry that you had to watch your parents be murdered. I am sorry that someone you idolized since childhood betrayed you. I am sorry our family betrayed I am so sorry.“Y/N spoke.She felt as if everything around her was falling apart. She didn’t know what condition the love of her life will wake up in.She didn’t know if her best friend would ever walk on his legs ever again. She didn’t know if kicking out the Avengers was the right thing to do,or if Tony wanted that or not. She was clueless and she had no one to talk to, She had no idea what do and she was alone.

After twenty minutes of sitting besides Tony,Y/N decided she need to go outside and check if they were gone or not. Walking through hallways Y/N  smiled at all the pictures that decorated the wall. Pictures of her and Tony,them alone,their wedding pictures,picture of them with their friends and Pepper. Her mood instantly dropped when she saw a family picture with the avengers. They were standing in front of the gates of Disneyland,Tony’s army was around her and she had her head thrown back in laughter at Steve’s surprise on everything that was in there. On the other hand Clint was making a bunny above Bruce’s head,who had no clue and was just fidgeting with his fingers. And for the first time Natasha was smiling a genuine smile,the only one who seemed to be looking at the camera.Y/N sighed at the memories and moved on.

Reaching the foyer she was Steve and Wanda with two small suitcases."What are you doing here still?"Y/N crossed her arms on her chest. "We are waiting for everyone else."Wanda replied. She nodded in response,and tried to look anywhere but them. After a few minutes of silence Steve was the one who decided to break it. "Look Y/N I am sorry.I am sorry for everything that has happened in the past few weeks.” Y/N scoffed at his half assed apology. “Apology not accepted Rogers.Somethings just can’t be forgiven. You really except to forgive you?Do you know what you have done? You used us like a tissue paper and then threw it in the dustbin after you were done with its use. Tinker with that.” With that Y/N walked away.

anonymous asked:

Hi!! I love your writing so much and I'm sorry that I'm asking for them again. I'll stop if you're tired of doing them :o Can I please have some protective headcannons for the titan trio? Thank you so much!!

Don’t apologize! This is what we are here for!

Reiner:

  • Is probably only second to Annie in amount of protectiveness, to be honest.
  • He’s the type to physically beat the ever loving crap out of anyone who threatens his s/o. Seriously, he will probably break their nose in at least 3 places.
  • In terms of jealousy, Reiner does get jealous very easy and is naturally protective over his s/o if anyone else tries to hit on them.
  • He’s going to slip his arm tightly around his s/o and pull them to his side while sending a pretty clear death stare at said offender. 
  • If they continue, they are also getting their nose broken in at least 3 places. They can join the ‘I hit on Reiner’s s/o and immediately regretted it’ club.
  • If something were to happen to his s/o, Reiner would make whoever it was pay for what they’d done, and he wouldn’t stop until they had. He would seek revenge and vengeance above all else.

Bertholdt:

  • Bertl is the quieter of the three, and he isn’t as physical as Reiner, either.
  • He’s still immensely protective over anyone he truly cares about, however, so if his s/o were ever threatened he’d come to their aid in a second’s notice.
  • If his s/o is being hit on, he’s not the type to ‘mark his territory’ so to speak like Reiner does, he would instead sit on the sidelines and watch his s/o turn them down because he knows they would.
  • If it progressed to the point of any real issue, however (such as them forcing themselves on his s/o) then he would definitely make sure they understood their place; Bertl has a lot of pent up rage he needs to get rid of, after all.
  • He would take any amount of torture or pain for his s/o, he’d even die for them without a second thought if it meant that they could continue living.
  • Bertl, unfortunately, is the one who would lose his mind first if something were to ever happen to his s/o. He just wouldn’t be able to handle losing them; he’d completely blame himself.

Annie:

  • Annie is, without a doubt, the number one most protective person on the planet.
  • She is not going to take someone else so much as glancing her s/o’s way without sending them the nastiest glare they’ve ever received.
  • Annie is queen of snark and wit, so if someone insults her s/o you can bet your ass off she is going to make them question their very existence by the time she’s done with them.
  • If, god forbid, someone were to hurt her s/o, Annie would probably ask questions later and instead fix the problem first by throwing a fist into their jaw.
  • It would be made abundantly clear to everyone that Annie’s s/o is her s/o. 
  • If something were to happen to her s/o, Annie would lose it in a different way than Bertl. She wouldn’t lose herself, she’d go insane with rage. There would be nothing left in her path after she was finished.
Breaking... Ch.18

Masterlist

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

A/N: Short but setup even though it’s boring

Wordcount: 1307

Warnings: Sad, gay, fluff

Tags: @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty@meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demi-godamit @gum-and-chips@sweaterkitty-fluff@pinkyiger7@littlemissshortcakes@msageofenlightenment@unprofessional-inhumanbeing@fandom-panda-221@hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple@ashwolfcub@myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate@superwholockbooknerd526@frozengal2013@lmaodedhaha@itsmikayblr@sarmar29 @arya-durin-77 @phantastic-fandoms@hoshihime98@shinigamired @martapetrovic @robotic-space@iamnotthrowingawaymyshit2(lol) @asprinkleofmermaids@pinkyiger7(I’m tagging you twice my friend!) @satellitesuga @rose-coloured-nihilism  @okie-dokie-artichokeme @alyssumax @pandartist @marquiis-de-la-baguette

Breaking Precautions

It was dark. Quiet. You felt still and immovable. It was hot, slightly suffocating. But then your heart beat faster and faster and faster, your breath speeding up with it until you felt like you were choking. Your eyes shot open, you sat up, clinging to the fabrics on top of you. Looking around you saw that you were in your room, in your night gown with a blanket covering you. Your hair was falling in front of your face and you were sweating like crazy. What the hell…? You pushed the covers off and stumbled a bit to stand up, you needed to use your desk as a support. Something suddenly struck your thoughts. Philip. You rushed over to the door and flung it open, there was a chill in the air. The door’s open. You tripped up a bit trying to run down the hall but you caught yourself on the wall. You made a sharp turn at the archway and fell into the main room. The front door was wide open and you heard something outside, voices. You couldn’t hear what the voices were saying but you felt like you had to hurry, there was the sound of wheels very faintly. You pushed yourself up and ran to the door and out of it. The light was blinding and made your eyes hurt from the sun’s rays reflecting against the white snow. Everyone was standing at the bottom of the stairs; cloaks, hats, muffs and all to protect against the cold. You saw everyone except Philip, your anxieties had set in. The wheels, that was him, he left. You were freezing but you didn’t care, you sprinted down the stairs. No shies on, only socks. You pushed your way through the small gap between Alex and Eliza. Your feet hit the snow and it made your toes burn. You only made it a couple of feet into the yard before your legs gave out and made you fall to your knees. Now your legs and dress were soaking wet as you sat there, looking down at the hideously white mass under you.

“Titania!” Alex yelled, him and Eliza rushed over to you, crouching down at either side of you. “Are you crazy? It’s freezing out here!” You didn’t look at them and felt tears well up in your eyes, they fell onto the snow and made slight indents in the single color.

“I’m…I’m too late… I wanted to…to tell him…” Your voice shook and your shoulders trembled. “Damn it!” You slammed your fist into the ground. Something was draped over your shoulder, Alex’s jacket. You clung to it and pulled it closer, trying to cover your freezing body. Eliza wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to her, your head falling onto the crook of her neck. She patted your back comfortingly and you felt like you could ball your eyes out right there.

“Shh, it’s alright dear! Everything is just fine. Take deep breaths.” She whispered. You sniffled, forcing yourself not to cry. The cold burned even with Alex’s jacket.

“It’s never enough…” Eliza stood up, helping you stand. Her and Alex both helped your shivering body inside.

             It was now the beginning of May. After your last breakdown, Philip made sure to always ask how you were doing in his letters. Honestly, you didn’t feel too hot, but you couldn’t tell him that. Truthfully, you were never well when he was away. The only thing that kept your spirits up was remembering that love was never meant to be easy. Love takes time and love takes work. Right now you were paying the time portion. But you had to be strong, not just for Philip but for the children as well. They counted on you to be their foundation. Especially Angie, she’s been a nervous wreck all week and she wouldn’t tell you why. You didn’t figure it out until that afternoon when you heard someone knock at the front door. You dusted off your skirt and opened the door.

“Welcome to the Hamilton estate, what may I assist you with?” You greeted. There was a young girl standing in front of you, well not ‘young’ she looked to be about fifteen years old. She was quite petite, had pale skin and green eyes. Not like Rachel or Anna’s green eyes, not bright and deep. They were more soft, almost a mint or a sea-foam color. Her blonde curls came down to her shoulders but part of the front was tied off into a green bow. Her dress was a similar shade of green, with a full skirt but short sleeves to match warm weather, a bit of lace fell out of the neckline.

“Hello, I’m here to see Angelica.” Her voice was small and cute.

“Oh, I didn’t know Angie was having friends over today. I’ll call here down for you, please follow me.” You stepped to the side and allowed the girl inside. This wasn’t the first time Angie had friends over so you didn’t find anything strange. You closed the door and made your way over to the stairs. “Angie! You have a visitor!” You called up. The girl stood next to you, nervously twiddling her thumbs, she was looking down at the ground so you couldn’t read her expression. You heard footsteps from upstairs.

“Who is it, T…T” Angie stopped at the top step, looking down at the girl next to you. “R-RoseMary…You actually came…” Wait, RoseMary? OH MY GOD THIS IS ROSEMARY! You tried your hardest to not squeal, instead settling for a faint smile. RoseMary nodded her shyly.

“Um, perhaps you’d like your parasol, Miss Angelica? So that you may sit out in garden with your friend?” You hinted, not so inconspicuously moving your gaze back and forth from her and RoseMary. She blinked herself back to reality and cleared her throat.

“Yes, thank you. RoseMary, would you like to join me out in the garden for a bit?” She quickly made her way down the steps and grabbed RoseMary’s hand as she passed the two of you. Angie led her out of the room and into the dining room. You couldn’t help but fangirl a little bit when they left. RoseMary is so adorable, that’s so cute! You went over to the closet near the front of the room and found Angie’s parasol. Quickly, you ran through the dining room and into the kitchen, you peeked out the back door and saw them both sitting at the bench. You internally screamed, you listened closely. “I can’t believe you actually showed up…” Angie said with shock.

“Why is that?” RoseMary asked.

“Because…you know how I feel. I thought you’d hate me; don’t you hate me?” She asked worriedly. RoseMary shock her head, her big curls swaying with her.

“No, of course I don’t hate you Angie!”

“But I’m not normal! I don’t know what this feeling is but I definitely don’t see you as just a friend. Whenever you’re around, my heart beats in the strangest way, I feel light headed and palms get really sweaty!” Angie lowered her head, looking defeated.

“If you’re not normal…than neither am I. Because I feel the same way.” AH! This is so beautiful; I’m going to cry! Angie’s head perked up and RoseMary’s words.

“You…you do? You like me? Like, like-like me?” RoseMary nodded softly, Angie didn’t waste a second and wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tightly. RoseMary did the same. You decided it would probably be best to give them some privacy, you leaned the parasol against the wall and left to go check on Eliza. They were young and learning, but at least you knew they would be able to learn together. There’s always hope in love, no matter what the obstacle.

An Iron Grip- Chapter 1

I posted about having this Gajevy fic that’s been sitting in my computer for a few years and thanks to all the encouragement I’ve decided to finally start posting it- all in all its about 40 chapters long give or take a bit; I’m going to update about 3 times a week with a new chapter so you guys dont have to wait too long :) This is my first fic so i’d appreciate some constructive criticism <3

Pairing: Gajevy

Words: 3,045

Will update every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday :)

Summary: There is no magic. There is no wizards or dragons, that was all just make believe- or so Levy had been told. Her world is turned upside down when a dark guild comes after her, searching for a rare book, and everything she thinks she knows turns out to be wrong. Unwillingly thrust into a dark hidden underbelly of Magnolia city she must trust an unlikely band of misfits, a magic guild called Fairy Tail. Will Levy cave under the pressure or will she grow to be more than she every thought she would be and make some new friends along the way?

Chapter 2. Chapter 3. 

_______________________________________________________________________


         The world swirled around Levy, black and white flashing ever faster. She was falling and falling fast. There wasn’t even enough time for her to scream; the air was sucked out of her lungs as the air cut past her. The fall seemed like forever even though she was sure realistically it was only a few seconds. But everything slowed. She’d hit the ground soon, she was sure of that too. The ground was hard concrete, unforgiving and cold. And she was just so so small. She wouldn’t stand a chance in hell against it. Levy squeezed her eyes shut and let herself fall. There was nothing she could do but wait for the floor to meet her. This was it. This was how she was going to go- alone and weak. This was it.

   'I’m so sorry Gajeel, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you’ she thought to herself.

   And then everything stopped.

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caroldixonist  asked:

Please write the reunion that follows the s8 first kiss you wrote! I love your writing, btw ☺️

Part 1

Hope this was okay. Thank you so much sweet!


The war was far from over. They’d managed to take down another four outposts, but that was just scratching the surface of Negan’s empire. It had taken a few days to do so, losing some Alexandrian’s and a few men from The Kingdom, no one Carol knew by name though. It was over for now, until they went for the attack on Sanctuary in a couple of weeks.

Carol’s little house seemed almost unbearably big and empty by the time she’d gotten back, ridding herself of the protective armour she still wore. Thinking about how many people she had killed in the last three days made her stomach churn, but she couldn’t focus on that, couldn’t let that darkness consume her again. Instead she focused on the only person who could make her forget and chase the demons away. Daryl.

In those few days she hadn’t heard from Daryl, not seen him since she’d kissed him…

His words still rang through her mind, sending shivers of anticipation down her spine. ‘We ain’t done here,’ that’s what he’d told her…and by god did she hope he’d make good on his promise.

She had no doubt he was okay, he was a survivor, did what he had to to get shit done. He’d find her when the time was right, he always found her, even when she didn’t want to be found. 

Knocking on the front door dragged her from her wandering thoughts, praying that the person behind the door was the person who had been running aimlessly around her mind. 

Pulling the door open, the grin on her face was immediate, Daryl Dixon stood on her doorstep as if on cue.

It was safe to say they both looked worse for wear, Daryl more so than herself. He had a nasty looking cut across his brow bone, knuckles bandaged but blood seeping through his sloppy attempt of first aid, bruising shadowing his jaw down to his exposed collarbone. 

Words weren’t needed as she closed in on him, they barely ever were when it came to them.

Carol enclosed her arms around his middle, nuzzling her face into his good collarbone, sighing as he dropped his crossbow with a thud, large hands spanning out across the small of her back. 

She knew he’d make it back, but that didn’t stop the persistent niggle in the back of her mind telling her he might not.

“You came back,” she breathed deeply, uncaring of his somewhat ripe smell, days out on the road providing little time for a shower. 

“Told ya I would,” he murmured into the crown of her head, a shaky hand tracing her spine back and forth.

She pressed a feather light kiss to his clavicle, raising her head, her nose gently brushing his.

It took everything in her not to kiss him again. She’d made that first move, it was his choice if there was a second.

Despite making that internal decision it didn’t change the fact that their faces were incredibly close to one another, heated breath mingling together, her inhibitions quickly slipping.

“We…we should get you stitched up,” Carol murmured, her cast down eyes flickering to his dark hooded ones.

Daryl nodded once, his nose bumping hers upwards so her lips were not even an inch from his.

Carol’s eyes fluttered closed, inhaling deeply as she found the inner strength to pry herself away from his warm embrace.

Taking his hand softly she lead him into the house, sitting him at the very table they’d had dinner at once, leaving him to go and rummage in the kitchen for her first aid kit. 

She came back, sitting in the same spot as she did last time, unravelling the bandages wrapped around his hand.

“Should I ask what happened?” she questioned, dabbing at the wounds lightly, pretending not to hear his quiet hissing.

“Nah, don’t matter now, s’done is done.”

Carol nodded in acceptance of his answer, she wouldn’t push him.

Daryl only needed one stitch on his left knuckle, Carol made sure to stitch up his brow bone too, working with delicate skilled finger to make it as painless as possible.

Daryl wasn’t a stranger to stitches anyway, barely even flinching each time she pierced his skin.

Carol took a step back once she’d finished, admiring her handiwork with a small smile, stepping forward once more to tuck his hair back off his face.

“Don’t take them out until they’re ready,” she told him firmly, knowing how he was with the last set of stitches she gave him.

“Ain’t gon’ do it again,” he grumbled, flexing out his hand with a wince. 

Carol chuckled lightly, suddenly sobering as she realised their predicament. The position they were in was almost exactly as they were the last time she’d kissed him, stood between his open legs whilst he sat in front of her.

There was a lingering silence, Daryl’s hand coming up to rest on the curve of her hip, his stomach knotted with nerves.

“Meant what I said,” he spoke, uttering back the same words she had said to him before going after the outposts. 

“About what?” she asked softly, her hand closing over his when he tried to retract it from her hip.

“‘Bout us,” he murmured, applying a gentle pressure to her hip bone, he wasn’t sure if it was out of nerves or out of bravery, but the content sigh she gave him showed him it paid off. “We ain’t done here.”

He rose from his chair then, Carol’s breath hitching in her chest as he stepped forward so their bodies were flush together. 

“Is that so?” Carol questioned with a small smirk, her arms winding around his neck, joy filling her heart at him welcoming her touch.

“Don’t play with me,” Daryl grumbled, instantly regretting his choice of words when Carol’s brows shot sky high.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” she winked, yelping when he tugged her harder into his body, biting down on her lip as she felt something rather prominent against her thigh. “”But it seems like you might want me to.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he blushed, slanting his mouth over hers to silence whatever smart ass comment she about to come out with next.

Carol hummed happily into the kiss, staggering backwards as he walked her towards the couch with heavy steps.

It was overwhelming and yet not enough, his mind was screaming at him to stop, slow down, too much! But his heart was soaring, making him want to bear his soul to the woman in his arms.

His mind seemed to win over though when Carol’s tongue snaked out to trace the seam of his lips, snapping him out the trance he was in.

Carol.” His voice was heavy and lust filled.

“Yes?” Carol asked, pulling back from him a fraction, looking up at him through her lashes. 

Instantly she could see what was on his mind, the conflict and struggle he was having with this level of intimacy.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, perching up on her toes to kiss him softly once more, smiling when he stole another two. 

“We need a shower,” she said, grinning at the panic across his face. “I promise I’ll leave you some hot water.”

His shoulders relaxed at her comment, wondering how he got so lucky to find a woman who just…got him, accepted that.

He loosened his hold on her, kissing her on the forehead before stepping back. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

How Do You Fake Feelings (when you know they're real): Okay, Let’s Do This

Fic Request: Stiles and Lydia fake dating but actually dating in the end

Rating: K+

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Fake Dating!Stydia

Author: holybellamy

Part 2/?

Summary: Lydia meets Jackson at the supermarket, and he is back in town for his wedding. He invites her, and she doesn’t want to go there alone.

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