When Nancy saw the flurry of activity outside her home, the home she had grown up in, she realized that this went beyond slime-covered trees in a shadowy wasteland, that there were monsters here, in this world, that wanted to hurt the people she loved. And in an instant, all the hurtful things she had said to Mike, just in the last week, bounded through her mind, playing on a loop. She needed to get there, to get home. To protect the people who lived at the end of that stupid, boring cul-de-sac because it was her stupid, boring cul-de-sac.
But that helicopter. It sent her heart hammering straight into her stomach. Mike? How was it possible that there was a helicopter looking for her dorky brother who couldn’t even kill a spider and was afraid of the birds that flocked to their mother’s backyard bird feeder. Mike wasn’t dangerous. He wasn’t a criminal. He was just her baby brother.
As Hopper ushered her into the backseat, she wanted to break—to scream, but her fear for Mike had numbed her. She couldn’t even cry. Barb was missing and her little brother was in danger—he was being hunted. He could be hurt. Nancy’s eyes fell on Jonathan, sitting next to her looking anxious and she imagined, for a split second, her own brother’s funeral. Her lungs tightened.
And then Hopper was asking her questions. Questions about where Mike would have gone. And Nancy, mind reeling, could think of nothing but her guilt at having pushed Mike so far away. If she found him safe—no, no. When. When she found him safe, she promised herself, she would be a better sister. She’d always be there to listen.
Request: could you write a oneshot where the reader takes a walk with jughead and it’s really cold so he lets you borrow his sweater?
Word count: 440+
You threw a couple dollars on the table as a tip and headed out the door with Jughead. Every other night the two of you would get together at Pop’s so that you could read over his latest chapter and help him edit it and what not. Neither of you would call it a date per say, but you definitely wouldn’t mind if it was.
Jughead held the door open for you as yet another sneeze left your body; you had been sneezing all night long.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna call your parents to come pick you up? It’s, like, 35 degrees outside, and you’re already sneezing your brains out.”
“I’ll be fine, Juggie.” You crossed your arms over your chest as the two of you headed down the street. “It’s a fifteen minutes walk to mine.”
“Well, then at least take this.” He stopped walking to pull his sweater over his head. He held it out to you.
You looked down at Jughead’s sweater before letting your eyes trail back up to his face. “Could it really be?” Curiosity washed over his face. “Could Jughead Jones the third actually have a heart?” You asked in mock shock.
He rolled his eyes as he shoved the soft cloth into your arms. “I’m just tired of hearing your sniffling.” You slipped the sweater on over your t-shirt. “And besides, if you’re sick who’s gonna tell me how good my novel is?” You looked over to see you Jughead giving his infamous smirk.
“And the moment’s gone.” The two of you walked in comfortable silence until you got to your house. You stopped in front of your driveway.
You were about to tell him goodnight until you remembered you still had his sweater. “Oh, wait–” you had barely taken the item off before your good friend stopped you.
“You can take it,” he spoke casually.
You raised an eyebrow, “Because you don’t wanna get sick, too?”
“No, because you actually look kinda cute in my sweater.” You smiled for a brief second until you sneezed…once again. “And because you’ve sneezed all over it.”
You rolled your eyes as you playfully shoved the dark-haired boy. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Maybe sooner,” he commented as you began to walk up the walkway of your house.
Jughead never answered as he walked away from your house and back down the way he had come from, but you understood what he meant when he showed up at your house the following morning with tissues, soup, and a couple of your favorite movies.
what i mean:
if the duffer bros were serious about wanting stranger things to go on for about 5 seasons, and they keep going at the same pace they have been with a year between seasons, that means that season 5 is going to be released in 2020 and the kids are going to be completely different because of their age gaps, because caleb will be turning 19 but noah will only be 16 how is this ever going to work it doesnt add up what are they going to do about this im freaking out
“With all of this confusing cognitive dissonance, it sort of seems like “The Blacklist: Redemption” is about to fall apart any second — and though it doesn’t make for particularly coherent storytelling…
But the real question for “The Blacklist: Redemption’s” future success is whether or not Janssen and Eggold will be able to carry a title that has been, until now, entirely dependent on Spader’s magnetism. Based on the premiere, it seems unlikely — Tom is not even the second-most interesting character from “The Blacklist,” and Scottie’s mystique makes it hard to feel intimately connected to her character. But the premiere reveals Terry O’Quinn as Howard — Scottie’s presumed-dead husband, and therefore, Tom’s father. This is a less thrilling reveal than one would hope, but “The Blacklist: Redemption” is doubling down on its soap-opera-meets-spy-movie theatrics, where everything is about parentage and terrible buried secrets. Between them, the three actors might have enough brute-force charisma to match just one James Spader. I wouldn’t bet on it, though.