they look so alike yet so different

Shadows and Darkness: One and the Same (ch. 13)

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This fic is meant to be read in connection with my Azriel-centric prequel stories. I would highly suggest reading those first to get the full reading experience of this fic. 

Trigger warning: graphic violence and blood. 

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Like, reblog, comment, do fun tags, all the things!

Keep reading

starlumen  asked:

On art chain between you and nekophy, I dunno if I have a right answer on the second last panel of yours. I saw "not mine" and "mine". So that "not mine" is Reaper's code ? I just dunno, so better ask you instead 😁

Good question! And an important one, too. You might have noticed that, even though we haven’t seen too many character’s ‘codes’ just yet, they’re all different colors and no two look exactly alike. The way a character’s code is interpreted in this AU is much like a fingerprint - absolutely unique to the individual. No two will ever have the exact same looking code - no two share a color or how the code looks.

So while yes, Goth is ‘genetically’ made from Geno and Death, he has a code all his own that’s unique to the little bean. :)

What all the code from different characters share in common is that they have similar ‘traits’, meaning that they can be ‘read’ and similarities can be noticed. When Fatal sees something marked as ‘mine’, it’s because he sees something that the particular character has in common with his Paps (for example, like how Goth and Papyrus both are friendly). The ‘not mine’ refers to him seeing something that the character and his Paps don’t share in common (like how Goth likes dark humor, but his Paps doesn’t).

Hope this clears things up a bit! Also this is totes important information, might be good to keep in mind <3

Eye Contacts

I looked at you from across the room. You stood there talking to your friends amongst the anonymous crowd. I didn’t realize that I was staring. I admired your captivating features within a few seconds. The corners of my lips curved into a slight smile as I shyly looked down to my hands. “When will he smile at me like that?” I thought to myself. It couldn’t be me who he likes. We were so alike yet, different. How could one of the most beloved guy at my school like a girl like me? I’m just a reserved girl with a hopeless crush on a boy like you. Gathering my thoughts together, I looked up at you again. But this time. This time, you were looking straight at me. I turned around wondering who could’ve been behind me for you to stare so intensely at. Nobody was behind me. And when I realized you were looking at me, I swear I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I mustered up my last remaining bits of courage and locked my eyes with yours. We both looked at each other with a love nobody could hear, but everyone could see. It felt as if time had stopped and it was just you and I standing in the middle of the room. We stood there for a while, too emerged with one another until both our friends called for our attentions again. I broke our contact, silently smiling at the moment that just happened between us. Then the eye contact became more frequent, our eyes always searching for one another where ever we go. I hope our eyes are soulmates, so I’ll always find you on whatever path I take in life. 


The Universe Itself May Be Unnatural

“It’s possible that these facts simply represent the way the Universe is, and that there is no physical explanation underlying it. That the laws and properties and constants of the Universe simply are what they are, and there isn’t any deeper reason for it than that. This is possible, of course, and there’s never any way to rule this out. On the other hand, it’s the equivalent of giving up on science. Accepting that this is the way the Universe is, with no further explanation, means a cessation to investigations, and an end to the attempt that science can make: to come up with a physical explanation for the physical Universe.”

When we take a look at the Universe, there are a whole slew of things we can measure: densities, masses, couplings, and so on. When these measurable quantities arise from the same physical mechanism, we expect them to be closely related; when they don’t, we expect them to be dissimilar. Yet sometimes, unrelated things are alike in a seeming coincides, while related things are vastly different in an unexplained hierarchy. In cases like this, we look for physical explanations. Are we going about things all wrong in doing so, though? There may be a physical explanation for such fine-tunings, but it may also be the case that the Universe is simply unnatural in a variety of regards. But if unnaturalness reigns, then even the best science in the Universe may be unable to answer, even in principle, the simple questions of how certain quantities got the values that they have.

Don’t give up on science yet! Come learn what an unnatural Universe is all about.

Strong, Chapter 5; Closer.

Read on AO3;


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!


“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.

anonymous asked:

Can we please have Qui-Gon helping Obi-Wan cope with his ADHD, as was hinted at in the last one?

“Obi-Wan?” The redhead looked up slowly from the datapad and the sentence he had been rereading for eight…or make that fifteen times.


“Are you alright young one?” The older man sat down beside him on the couch with a cup of tea in hand, watching him closely.

Obi-Wan glanced at his datapad and then back at Qui-Gon, wondering if he should tell him. “I…”

“Are you having trouble focusing?” Qui-Gon glanced down at Obi-Wan’s tapping foot. He had started to notice Obi-Wan having…troubles.

He was starting to wonder about a lot of the things he had read in Obi-Wan’s folder and if perhaps it wasn’t caused by one particular thing instead of being a general problem.

“Yes Master.” Obi-Wan bit his lower lip hard and tried to stop shaking his leg when he noticed where the other was looking. “Its…I’m sorry master. I’ll try better.”

“No, no don’t be sorry Obi-Wan. I don’t think its your fault.” Qui-Gon smiled and reached out, stroking the others hair back. “Let me guess, the assignment isn’t one you’re interested in really, what is it?”

“…Navigational tactic.”

“Which you don’t like.” Qui-Gon chuckled quietly. “Not like you like languages and science…Obi-Wan, I want us to go to the healers tomorrow, I have a little suspicion.” He smiled at the boy to show him nothing was wrong per say.

Obi-Wan blinked but nodded and gave a frustrated sigh. “I’ve read this eight time master…I don’t…”

Qui-Gon took a sip of tea while thinking before getting up and turning the music on, a low and steady beat and not to loud before he returned to the others side and taking a hand, settling back in his space. “I want you to try to read now and every time you feel like you can’t read, you either listen to the music or squeeze my hand for a bit. Can you do that for me?”

Obi-Wan blinked and looked from the player to Qui-Gon, hesitant before he nodded and turned back to his pad.

Slowly, tortuously slow someone might have said, Obi-Wan managed to get through the text he was reading.

Giving the boy a few moments, Qui-Gon squeezed the smaller hand in his gently. “Did it help?”

“Kinda? I don’t know if I’ll remember it but I got through the text at least?” The other muttered.

“That’s what I’m here for Obi-Wan, to guide you and help you through it.” Carefully plucking the datapad from the teen, Qui-Gon placed the empty cup down. “Lets go through it, see what you remember.” He smiled gently.



Qui-Gon looked up from his meal and raised a brow at Mace. “That’s still being examined but its the most likely, yes.”

“I did wonder about Padawan Kenobi’s occasional…bursts at time. He’s usually so steady and smart.” The other hummed, looking over to where a happy Obi-Wan was entertaining his friends.

“He is smart. He just has a different learning curve. You know how it functions, do you think Depa mind it if I introduced him to her?”

Mace shrugged. “I don’t think so but it might be best to ask. That’s why I know if I’m honest, since I already had a student with ADHD they wanted me to talk to you, give you advice.”

“No two are alike. I’m not putting him on medication yet.” Qui-Gon hummed.

“Nor would I advice to, just yet. If you and him can make it work without it, then that’s fine. Be prepared for eventual side symptoms though.”


“Anxiety, depression, mood switches, tourettes, restless leg, sleep disorders and a whole sleeve of others. Its best to just wait and see if I’m honest Qui-Gon.” He patted the other on the shoulder. “I trust you though, this can be worked with, figured out and coped with.”

Qui-Gon nodded and smiled when he saw Obi-Wan watching them, making a gentle shooing motion that got a grin out of the boy before he focused back on his friends.

“With a boy this bright, yes.”

#163 - For coffeecupsallpiledup & anonymous x2

Filling the prompts “one where the reader is Larry’s sister and she’s dating van and maybe Larry finds out??” and “vans girlfriend realises larrys acting strange and asks to talk to him and he reveals that he is slightly jealous because of how close you and van are and he feels not as important in vans life or something?” and “reader and van being close friends but she gets feelings 4 him n never tells him, until he gets a gf n then they stay close but she has 2 deal w/ seeing van n his gf together? but happy ending summit maybe like she gets upset n he helps her out but then he realises he loves the reader n always did??” from @coffeecupsallpiledup

You’d loved Van from the moment Larry brought him home. You were too young to know what type of love it was, but anyone that made your brother happy made you happy. They were inseparable. They picked classes in school so their timetables would match. They spent every afternoon and every weekend together. Communal clothes and CDs and everything, they lived the same life. It was weird in that they were like that, yet so different in most ways. 

Obviously, they looked nothing alike, and their mannerisms, speech patterns, and word choices were also worlds apart. They used the same slang though and made the same stupid references to football and teen movies. They had the same morals, and both respected family and friends. Van was always a little more driven than Larry but. Your parents would say Larry was lucky he could ride Van’s wave like that. Van was more extroverted and people orientated. They’d probably never leave the eight walls of their bedrooms if not for him. Opposites but exactly alike, Van and Larry were two sides of the same coin. 

Keep reading

Autumn. [Stanlon]

Summary: “And with all honesty in his heart, Mike would say Stanley is a late autumn evening.”

Word counts: 1,140


If asked, many people in the small town of Derry would not describe Stanley Uris as a ray of sunshine upon their life. As a matter of fact, they wouldn’t associate that mature, immaculate, though a bit obsessive and quiet Jewish boy with anything that gives of warm radiation, let alone the flamboyant Sun. No, they would defend themselves, they didn’t mean that the kid is the cold-blooded, angsty type of teenager, or that something isn’t right with his head; it was just… well, he doesn’t give off any trace of warmth. And slightly intimidating. Everything about Stanley is chilly, from the shade of colors he had chosen for his clothes; his expression, his polite but distant mannerisms, and even the feature of his face. It was as if over time, the coldness of the Uris kid had sipped in, completely absorbed by his physique, and officially became a true part of him, not just some assumptions that adults and children alike rubbed into his face. His matured outline was cold enough that even the natural warmth he supposes to have, as a child, silently backed off to the background and would never surface again.

To be honest, that was Mike’s first thought of the boy, too, even for just a mere nanosecond, for Richie’s mouth had never shut up on its own. He soon learned that Stan-the-Man wasn’t that bad, but for a split second of the first impression, Mike felt the breeze of late autumn blew through his soul, even though it was summer. Frankly, it wasn’t that bad; the chill and refreshment; just… a bit unexpected and it made his soul fluttered. Yet the chaos of summer left the young boy no time to further pondering about his own feelings and his friends, for there was a clown for them to kill; sometimes life flashed over too fast for his liking, and before his mind beckoning him to remember, the thoughts about Stanley’s warm brown eyes the first time they met now are just a bubble of memories, no way to completely recall the experience. Just a broken, chained breeze of wind and shiny, glittering of lights reflected on the surface – of the heat inside his heart in retrospect.

The autumn four years later, with Stanley Uris’ eyes once again flashed in front of his eyes – only now with a tint of smile on his face and the faint, bumpy dots of skin outline his jaw, somewhat healed by time – just Mike recalled himself the first time their eyes met. One more difference is that the weather now is where the chilly breeze belongs to. Ah, one more thing, Mike silently reminded himself; the other’s paler, soft and gentle hand is now perfectly fit into his darker, calloused hands. A perfect fit of fates, like the stories Mike once read in his childhood years.

And with all honesty in his heart, Mike would say Stanley is a late autumn evening. A serene, tranquil evening with the faint blue, smoked sky, the chilly, taunting breezes and the naked, lanky trees stripped off their luxuriant green masks, just like his heart whenever Stanley is looking at him, directly into his pupils. The brown eyes, alike and unlike the rest of his features, blow his friends’ covers away. Not unforgiving like a vicious, stormy winds, but yet still strong and firm. Probably, the differences lie in the warmth underneath them, forcing but beckoning people to voluntarily stripped off their shells. Yet, Stanley is exceptionally aware of people’s comfort zone and is patience and understanding enough to let that person cover the face everywhere else. Just not with Stanley Uris, that’s it. So were the people of Derry right? Still, not so much. They didn’t look for anything deep inside and obviously didn’t bother to notice and ponder about unpretentious details of autumn. Derry, blind ole Derry, they made assumptions for them to simply recognize an individual then backed out to their own simple lives.

They forgot that leafs turn bright orange in autumn.

They forgot the warm orange shade of pumpkin in autumn.

They forgot the mischievous, sweet Halloween of autumn.

And they certainly missed the random ray of sunlight here and there, scattered throughout the season, making them question whether is it really close to winter yet. Spontaneous, but not surprising; visible, but neither apparent nor disruptive. The shine is soft and warm, full of hopes and erases winter out of one’s mind. Stanley certainly is capable of caring; caring too much, even, and tire himself out. Yet he never shows it, whether he didn’t dare or his slightly crooked definition of pride keeps him out of the acts. These are his moments that he let himself loose and dares to sprinkle his warmth out; the Losers, at moments like these, are usually too tired to mock or reveal their surprise faces, simply accept this as a graceful and rare moment of their lives. Of course, they, and especially Mike love this, love how Stanley finally be honest with his feelings by actions, love how Stanley’s features let out their softness and elegance for comforting purpose and Mike’s world would be full of sunshine again. Stanley’s aura, Stanley’s comfort, is kind, soft and understanding, rather than anything flashing and energetic, and it’s nothing strange to his usual self, just much deeper and more transparent. His boyfriend, most of the times, wouldn’t straight out lying about any issues, just simply covers them up with the cool, uncaring facade of coldness, of assumptions everyone shoved into his face. Sometimes it’s easier to be misunderstood, Mike thinks, would be how Stanley describe this.

That, pretty much, is Stanley. His Stanley. The one he discovered as days passed and luring him into the naive and peaceful years of youthful romance. The Stanley deep inside that shines light upon his heart and warms his soul, and the one silently convinces him from time to time that this isn’t quite the time for winter yet. The Stanley, soft and caring, care enough for his friends and probably himself too, to elude the cover of the first impression on himself. Right now, the soft hand of Stanley is inside his, the long fingers curl softly, but firmly across his hand, and the sun is giving off warmth the color of young wheat, not yet heavy with grains of lifetimes. For once, the weights from four summers previous was pardoned. For now, for their silly little hearts filled with feelings. For the corner of their lips are raised with sunshine and laughter. For once, and this is certainly a long “once”, they feel like they are seventeen.

They are seventeen, they are young, they still have all the times in the world.

This year, autumn was warm. And long.

They still have twenty-three years.

Si estás a mi lado, enciendes el sol

Day 2 is here and ths is my weapon of choice… Thanks to the lovely Bianca @from-red-string for proofreading. 

PSA: this prompt made me think of the song You Are The Moon by The Hush Sound. It doesnt have much to do with my actual fic, but you’ll thank me later if you check it out ;)

Ficday 2: “You’re my roommate and it’s way past midnight and you’re talking about how the moon must feel insignificant because it borrows light from the sun and this is all very interesting but will you please shut up and go to sleep”.

“Damn it, bro! I love you and all, but can you shut up for a minute?”

Luna gets up pretty quickly from the couch, her pink slippers lighting up every time she takes a step. She hears Gastón’s loud voice coming from the entrance of her apartment, followed by Nina’s. “Luna, are you still awake?”

She is about to answer when she hears another voice; quieter, but equally familiar. Luna quickens her steps and finds the three of them in the kitchen. Nina’s by the fridge, pouring water into a glass while Gastón stands beside Matteo, who is sitting in the counter with a loopy expression and his left arm wrapped in a cast. Gastón spots her first, a scared smile on his face. “So you are awake! How was your day? Did everything go alright with you presentation?” The fake cheer in his voice almost makes her afraid to ask what happened. She does, anyway.

“Cut the crap.” Her voice sounds sleepy to her own ears, it’s way too late to be dealing with this.“What the hell happened to Matteo’s arm and why is he just sitting there looking like he’s high?” She gestures to the boy in question. Matteo is apparently murmuring something to himself and his eyes look lost, he hasn’t even seen her yet.

Nina lets out a nervous squeak at the same time Gastón mutters “That’s probably because he is.”

Luna resists the impulse to hit her head against a wall. “I thought you guys were just going to watch Star Wars at your place?” She turns to Nina, hoping her friend will give her some answers. Matteo still looks like he’s not even there.

Nina bites her lip apologetically and bursts out “I’m so sorry Luna! I was out and had no idea!” Nina’s outburst seems to finally snap Matteo out of his trance. “Luna! what are you doing here? I thought you had to study.” He looks around and seems to notice his surroundings for the first time. “Hey! This is our apartment! When did we get here?”

Gastón gives him a tight-lipped smile and pats his cheek. “S'alright, bro. How’s the arm?” Matteo shakes his head before answering, “Doesn’t hurt as much as it did before.”

Nina hands him the glass, telling him to drink up. Matteo smiles gratefully and gulps down the water as if he hasn’t had a drink in ages.

Luna is getting madder by the second; how is it they just expect for her to be calm about this when they won’t tell her what’s up? She had been studying for her exam when she got Gastón’s text that said not to worry and that they would bring Matteo home late; no other explanation. She’d been worrying since that moment, of course. That had been three hours ago; now it was half past midnight and all she’d gotten from them before they decided to barge into her apartment was another text, this time from Nina, saying that things were slow at the hospital and that they would see her later.

Well, now is later and Luna still hasn’t got any freaking clue what’s going on.

“Screw you all!” Her friends freeze in their place, terrified expressions on their faces. They have known her long enough to know that an angry and sleep deprived Luna is someone they don’t wanna mess with. “Can anyone tell me right now what the actual hell happened?!”

Matteo and Gastón look at each other and Nina buries her face in her hands, Luna just keeps glowering at them with her arms crossed. Gastón seems to be the bravest and grabs at his hair before answering her. “Look… we decided to take a little break between Episode IV and Episode V and Matteo here wanted to play football.-” The boy sends him a dirty look “-So we played in the living room and accidentally broke a vase…”

“You broke the vase my mom gave me for Christmas?!” Nina gapes at him, her hands shaking at her sides. Matteo winces and Gastón just looks at her apologetically, “Sorry honey! Really! I thought you didn’t even like that vase!” Nina glares at him, “But it was a gift!”

Luna is losing both her mind and her patience. “Who cares about that stupid vase! I want answers!” Nina looks down embarrassed and Luna feels a little pang of guilt for screaming at her friend; she is probably innocent in all of this, anyway.

Gastón sends his girlfriend a contrite look before continuing, “As I was saying, the thing fell and there were shards all over the floor. My bro here, the neat freak, didn’t only sweep the shards away but mopped the living room floor. It was kinda wet, but we kept playing until this idiot-” he looks pointedly at Matteo (who seems a little more lucid) “-slid and fell on his arm.” He glances down at his wristwatch, “That was about 4 hours ago. We left for the hospital not long after, Nina met us there. We waited a lot and when the doctor finally came, they took some X-rays and told us Matteo had broken his arm. We went for tacos after he was released and then we came here.” He nods, satisfied with himself for being able to sum it all up.

Luna’s glare still burns through his skull. “If it is about the tacos, don’t worry, we brought you some!” He smiles, a little unsure as he gestures to a takeout bag sitting on the counter beside Matteo. Nina rolls her eyes discreetly and Matteo winces again (Luna wonders if it is because his friend is an idiot, or if it is the pain… Maybe it’s both).

She’s really out of patience now. “Why is Matteo high, Nina?” Her friend looks down and plays with her sleeves,“He’s not really high. They gave him something for the pain and it made him a little loopy. It’s a common side effect of many painkillers, actually.”

“Ugh! But you’re fine, right?” Luna directs her gaze to Matteo, who still looks a little out of it, but not as much as when he first came in. “I…I think so. It hurts a little, but it’s better now”, he looks down at his injured arm and then back at her, as if seeing her for the first time. “You had a big presentation today, right? How did it go?” He tilts his head with curiosity, and he looks so adorable in that moment, she can’t even be angry anymore. It happens every single time. She can never stay mad when he’s looking at her with those beautiful brown eyes.

She sighs; her anger is gone, leaving only exhaustion behind. “It went well enough, chico fresa. I’m glad everyone’s okay, I was worried.”

Nina lets out a breath and reaches toward her with a hesitant smile, “I’m really sorry for worrying you, we knew you were studying for your exam tomorrow and didn’t want to disturb you.” Gastón also gets closer, his arms outstretched for a hug, “Yeah, sorry Luna. We should’ve let you know what was going on but I was actually pretty freaked out. Can you forgive me for letting your roomie get hurt and accept our peace offering of tacos al pastor?”

She’s way too tired to be even a little resentful… and tacos sound heavenly right now. She accepts Gastón’s hug and hears Nina sigh with relief. When she pulls back, she glances at Matteo, who is looking at her with an affectionate smile and her heart melts a little.

The tacos they brought were pretty good. She ate them in the kitchen with Nina while Matteo and Gastón settled on the couch, the latter determined to finish Episode V before leaving for his own home. The couple now says their goodbyes and she closes the door behind them. She returns to the living room to see Matteo laying on the couch, staring right at the tv, which is paused on the movie credits. “I thought you were asleep already. It is pretty late and you seem like you need ten thousand naps”.

He turns his head to look at her, “I do feel a little sleepy, but I want to talk to you.” “About what?” She asks softly, going to sit on the couch beside him. He drags himself to lay by her side, resting his head on her lap. Her cheeks are going red, she’s pretty sure of it.

It is so surreal, being so close to him. They’ve lived together for two years now, ever since she first started college. Matteo had lived in a small apartment with Gastón during their freshman year; but then Nina and Gastón moved in together, and Matteo couldn’t pay the rent of the place by himself (His dad is still pretty adamant on not giving him a cent). She’d been planning on moving out of the Benson mansion -where her parents still live, now that it is hers- for a while and when she got accepted into the same college as Nina, Gastón and Matteo; she’d asked him if he’d like to look for a place together. It had been a little awkward at first, considering their history, but their bond is too strong to be broken and living with each other has only strengthened it. They are so different and yet so alike, they work side by side in harmony and couldn’t be happier about it.

The only moments in which she doubts if being roommates was a good decision are moments like this one; being so physically close and having to hold back her feelings for him. She never stopped loving him, not really; she doesn’t think she ever will. But things had changed between them at the ending of her junior year of high school; after she discovered she was Sol Benson. She’d had too much in her mind at the time and no time for a boyfriend. They broke off things between them but stayed friends. Matteo had given her space for a while, pulling away from her; until they both realized that they couldn’t handle the distance. They’d started hanging out as much as they could, trying to mend their relationship and they turned whatever they’d had before into an unbreakable friendship. Still, she’s never been able to stop wishing for things to turn back to they way they once were. She misses kissing him, telling him she is in love with him, getting to call him her boyfriend. She’d tried dating other guys, but Matteo is the only one her heart beats for; no one else will do. At least she has the small blessing that Matteo has stayed single since he first started college. He went on dates sometimes, but she’s never had to put up with a long-term girlfriend; she’s never even gotten to meet any of the girls he’s been on dates with. Nina always tells her that the fact that neither of them has had a relationship that lasted more than a couple of dates since they broke up must mean they both still love the other, but Luna doesn’t want to hope only to get her heart broken. So she never says anything and just hopes he doesn’t notice how much she wishes he was still hers.

Right now, Matteo grabs her hand and pulls it to rest on his head, meaning he wants her to play with his hair; he does that a lot. “I’m really sorry that I worried you. I forgot to tell the guys to call you to let you know what happened; it hurt a lot at the moment and I was pretty distracted.”

“It’s okay,” Luna says softly,“I’m just happy you are alright. I didn’t know what to think when I got Gastóns message, and then Nina texted about a hospital; I got worried you’d been in an accident or something.”

He snuggles closer to her, “I know, and again, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never forget to tell you if something is wrong again.” He takes her hand that isn’t in his hair and kisses it; her heart tries to jump out of her chest. “Thank you for waiting up for me, I thought you’d be asleep. You have that big test later today, remember? Actually, I think it’s time you go to sleep.” Matteo looks up at her with concern.

“I know, but I couldn’t sleep without knowing if you were alright or not.” She hesitates before adding, “Honestly, I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep until I make sure you do. I don’t want you staying up late after the day you’ve had.”

He gives her a soft smile. “Hey, what about we both sleep here on the couch? I really don’t wanna get up and walk all the way to my room, and that way you’ll make sure I actually get some sleep.”

She lets out a choking sound she tries to disguise as a cough. It’s not like it’s the first time they’ve both slept on the couch, but the idea still makes her flustered and nervous. Sleeping next to him is always torture. “Uh, okay, I guess” Matteo grins at her and she does her best not to regret her decision. He lifts his head so she can stand up. “I’m just going to get us some blankets and pillows.” “Sure,” she hears him call after her.

They are both already laying on the couch; one on each side of it, to Luna’s relief and regret. She brings the blanket up to her chest and looks at the night sky through the window. Matteo is apparently doing the same because she hears him say to no one in particular, his voice already sleepy, “I bet the moon must feel pretty insignificant up there, having to depend on the sun in order to shine. I mean, she’s so small and he is so big! I don’t really want her to feel bad.”

Luna tries to hold back a chuckle. The meds they gave him must be really strong. “Matteo, that’s very nice of you and all, but I’m pretty sure the moon feels pretty good about herself. Just close your eyes and go to sleep already!” She murmurs fondly.

He yawns loudly and she hears him shift a little. “I hope she does, really. You’re named after her, that should make her feel honored enough. You’re as beautiful as she is.”

She freezes for a moment, not knowing what to think about his words. He’s half asleep and high on meds, after all; he probably doesn’t know what he’s saying. She risks a look at him, sitting up to see his face in the dark; he’s already asleep. Luna lays back down and sighs. She tries not to hope he meant it, but it’s futile. She’s in love with him and there’s nothing she wants more than for him to return her feelings. Usually, she would do her best to drown her thoughts of him, but it’s late and she’s tired; so she lays back down and hopes for sleep to take her soon, not before whispering as soft as she can, “You make the moon and all of the stars in the sky look bad, Matteo. None of them shine as bright as you.”

Oli wants to meet up with a girl, and the girl has a cousin, and she looks pretty enough in the picture Oli shows him, and Louis wasn’t doing anything tonight anyway, and Oli’s been a good mate lately unlike some people, and Louis always has his back unlike some people. So sure, Louis will entertain the cousin so Oli can get off with the girl. Oli flashes him a grateful smile, texts Louis is in! to someone named Ashley, and that’s it then, the two of them are going out tonight with blonde American cousins because this is what Louis’ life looks like now.

Louis smokes a cigarette on the way to the club, car window cracked so Alberto doesn’t yell. One doesn’t really scratch his itch, never seems to these days, but they arrive before he can light another, and then it’s the hasty group shuffle from the car door to the club entrance. No flashes this time around, no one yelling his name. He gets away with it, sometimes, especially when it’s just him and Oli looking to have a messy night out. Louis doesn’t have a lot of practice, but he’s learning how to pull a bird without anyone really noticing. They might get away with this tonight.

He really wants that fucking cigarette, feels the itch curling down his spine and out to his fingers, but you can’t smoke hardly anywhere in LA, so he buys a shot off the tray of a girl with big tits in a small shirt, tosses it back while he waits at the bar to order two Jack and Cokes, both for him. It’s not so busy yet, but it might be later. Good to be prepared. A drink in each hand, he heads to their usual corner to see if Oli found the girls yet.

“One of those better be for me, Tommo,” Oli says, nodding at the drinks in Louis’ hands. He’s got each of his arms around a different blonde girl, and they look alike enough that Louis can’t figure out which is supposed to be his. Louis shrugs, takes a swig from each of his two drinks.

“These are mine, mate, but one of those better be for me,” Louis says, gesturing at the girls. One of them laughs, loud and brazen, head thrown back. Louis likes her. The other one giggles, letting her hair fall in front of her face as she looks down. Louis likes her, too.

“This is Ashley,” Oli says, tilting his head towards the loud one, letting his hand slip lower so it’s resting right on her tit. She smacks him with the back of her hand but she’s laughing, and he leaves his hand there, and she lets him.

“Hiya,” Louis says. That means the quiet one is his. She’s still looking down at the ground.

“And this is Briana,” Oli says, and she finally looks up when she hears her name, and her eyes are so blue and quick. Piercing. She’s…really fucking pretty. She shrugs off Oli’s arm gracefully and takes a few steps closer to Louis, pushing her hair behind her ears with both of her hands.

“Hi,” she says softly. “I’m Briana. You must be Lewis.”

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Two Sides Of The Same Coin

Ok so I’m currently rewatching the “Reign Storm” episodes as research for something in my story and I was taken aback by this scene. I know Vlad has used his ghost powers in human form plenty of times and maybe it’s just me but this is the first time I’ve seen (that I remember anyway) Vlad use his ghost powers to this extent while still in human form. We’re so used to him doing most of his plotting and fighting in his full ghost form. Danny uses his powers in human form too all the time but that’s a given because he’s the main character and we see more of his home and school life. Seeing Vlad do it was something else entirely. At any rate I’m not going to make a meme out of this since honestly what could I really say? Vlad just looks so cool and oh-so-very-evil and I love it. Feel free to use it yourselves if you want to I was just putting in my two cents because it’s amazing just how different these two halfa’s are even though they’re both half-ghost hybrids.

anonymous asked:

songfic prompt that no one asked for? for any combination of Ronan/Adam/Kavinsky I guess: " I know you - I walked with you once upon a dream; I know you - the gleam in your eye is so familiar a gleam; and I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem; but if I know you, I know what you'll do - you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream."

(I’ve never written a songfic before so i had no idea what i was doing but i did my best - thanks for the ask!!)

It was the strangest and saddest thing Kavinsky had ever seen. Ronan had brought the scholarship boy to his substance party. The dusty interloper didn’t fit in like Ronan did but, then again, no one had ever fit in at his parties quite like Ronan Lynch did. That didn’t stop Ronan from staring at Adam like he held the answers to all the questions of the universe.

The worst part – the unforgiveable part – was that Kavinsky was beginning to agree. He’d never interacted with Adam beyond the occasional exchanging of glares, but recently, he’d become a common sight in Kavinsky’s dreams. Whether it was Ronan’s obsession rubbing off on Kavinsky or something else entirely, Kavinsky couldn’t tell. The thought of Adam Parrish being significant alongside Ronan was one thing, the idea that he could be important independently was terrifying.

But, whenever Kavinsky feared something, he embraced it. He would rather be a reckless fool than a coward, so he walked towards where Ronan and Adam were sitting. With a knowing look on his face, Kavinsky sidled up to the pair and let his words fall smoothly from his lips. “Look what the cat dragged in. Dick’s second favorite pet.” Adam’s response, a blunt “Kavinsky”, didn’t disappoint. Kavinsky could have predicted that exact response. In fact, he had before, in his dreams. 

He was filled with a sense of perverse pride; being able to forge someone he didn’t know was more than skill, it was pure magic. Maybe Parrish was simply easily understood, nothing more than trailer trash, but it didn’t feel that way. The feeling of pride soon gave way to an unnerving feeling. He’d only met dream-Adam but Kavinsky felt like he knew real Adam Parrish.

I know you - I walked with you once upon a dream

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Different… and yet, so alike. It’s like two sides of the same coin. [insp]

Gone (A Shallura Fanfic)

id like to dedicate this fic to @ciuucalata (inspired by her shallura fic! kinda like a prequel of some sorts)

read in on ao3 maybe

She felt it the first time he touched her.

It was a fleeting touch. It didn’t linger for long. It wasn’t even intentional – it was convenient, he was there when she fell – after one of her little memoirs of where she came from was destroyed by her own hands – and she just so happened to fall into his arms.

The touch was fleeting.

The feeling wasn’t.

She felt it whenever the stares lingered longer than necessary. She felt it whenever their fingers brushed against each other. She felt it whenever he smiled, chuckled, laughed – literally anything really – whenever those fond looks were directed at her.

She felt it whenever she was around him. Thought of him. She would see something that reminded her of him and she’d feel that particular feeling so strongly to the point where she felt it might swallow her entire being alive.

She felt comfort around him. Peace. Calm. And that word she refused to acknowledge that started with the letter ‘l’.

She didn’t want to though.

They had a duty. They needed to protect the homes of people from the empire that took hers away from her. They needed to make sure no tragedies – or, at least, as little tragedies as possible – happened on any more innocent people. They needed to make the universe a safe place.

These feelings – they were only in the way. She didn’t want them. So call her selfish if you want, but she’d keep them to herself.

And maybe – maybe – someday, when the war is over, when peace is finally restored in the universe, maybe she’ll tell him. Maybe he’ll tell her too. Maybe they’ll even have a life together after that.

Not now, though.

It’ll be alright,’ she told herself, ‘we have time.’

They didn’t.

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anonymous asked:

How do you think our Ciel felt when he received attention and affection from everyone that knew both twins? I'm afraid he felt sad or maybe he didn't even care that much...

Hey Anon and thanks for the question.

Honestly, I think our!Ciel was loved. From flashbacks we’ve seen, it appears that Vincent and Rachel cared for both their children. When our!Ciel had the asthma attack at the circus, his memory showed a concerned Madam Red, Rachel, and Lizzie.

I think he was loved, and he never wanted for any material thing. The issues, however, was that he wasn’t like his brother.

Imagine growing up and having a brother or sister that’s so alike you in many ways. You look so much alike, yet you know that you’re very different. Real!Ciel was the one going to inherit the title, the position, and fiance. Our!Ciel had love and wouldn’t have had to worry about his future, but he wouldn’t have had the same respect.

You also have the issue of health. There were probably many times that our!Ciel would be stuck inside watching his brother play happily with Lizzie. Perhaps he could have been weakened by a current asthma attack or couldn’t go out because of a certain pollen in the air that could trigger an attack. Real!Ciel was being trained to fence. Our!Ciel could have been told he didn’t need to learn such things.

In short, our!Ciel was loved, but he probably wouldn’t have felt as loved as his brother or as special. He would have been burdened by the knowledge that he was considered weaker, and he might have felt very alone. He could have felt like he was growing apart from his own twin; the person he should have been closest to in the world.

I personally feel our!Ciel received love and attention, but he wanted, he coveted the special attention given to his brother. He might not have felt as loved, and he could have even done things in order to get noticed more. He might have thought he was wasn’t loved or at least wasn’t loved as much as his brother, and this would have upset him. Unfortunately, while there were difference made between the boys, I don’t think that was the case.

Thanks for writing, Anon. Have a lovely day!

Connor and Murphy (Conphy) 💚☘️

Siblings have a connection. Brothers have a connection. Twins have something deeper, stronger. They say twins can feel each others pain. These Twin brothers could do that and more. Murphy was a hot head, a doer, he wouldn’t think before he spoke. Connor was a planner, a thinker. He was Murphy’s rock, he kept his twin grounded. Connor and Murphy could always sense each others next move, next thought, what the other was going to say. They were each half of the whole. So different yet so alike. Murphy would always turn to Connor for support, he was the needier of the brothers. Murphy needed he reassurance from his Twin. He looked up to him. Murphy would never say it to Connor but he always thought that Connor was older. The way he was, responsible and more mature in a sense. Connor was always there to catch Murphy when he fell. Murphy would always be there for his brother, but he felt always needed his brother more. Even as babies they would fall asleep together, Murphy curled around Connor. As children they were never apart, they shared everything. Murphy and Connor would always test each other, they fought and scuffled but their bond was one of love and friendship. A bond no one could ever break. They were hardly ever seen apart. The love between these brothers something no one could come between.

Originally posted by veritaaas

Originally posted by veritaaas

Originally posted by veritaaas

Originally posted by veritaaas

anonymous asked:

saying two asians look alike so obviously they're brothers is really racist just saying

okay so let’s take a look at the facts

so here’s keith and shiro

they don’t really look alike, do they?

now here’s kerberos shiro

or ‘younger’ shiro for that matter

and here’s sven, a different version of shiro, but still recognizable as shiro

and finally, here’s keith’s dad.

keeping in mind they’re fictional characters, and people don’t usually draw characters this alike even if they’re from the same country, unless they’re somehow related. maybe not by blood. maybe the animators wanted us to see that resemblance keith’s dad and shiro (and his different versions) have, appearance-wise, to understand the deep bond keith has with him, in light of the recent events.

and truly, i’m sorry your head is so far up your fuckin’ shaladin ass you go around calling people who see resemblance in drawn characters “racist”

Where I justify my controversial Bioshock Infinite shipping prefs.

I wrote this longass thoughtpost in a reblog a couple of days ago, but wanted to hear fellow fans’ thoughts in reply, so here it is in its own post.

So, I was so conflicted about these two (YOU KNOW WHO I’M TALKING ABOUT), but I feel like this was the intended reaction by the writers/Ken Levine; to totally screw with the players’ heads in every which way possible with this game - both ship/story-wise.

I can sympathize with him too. As one who has dabbled in writing/producing scripts, a writer’s aim, more often than not, is to elicit a reaction/evoke emotion from the audience. And I will say, the more stunned and “WHAT THE FUCK, NAAAAW THAT DID NOT JUST HAPPEN OMG” the reaction is, the more satisfying it is for the creator. There is no greater reward than producing something thought-provoking and unforgettable as a creative. So, so satisfying. I just know Levine must have been cackling in his lair when thousands of dudes that wanted to bone Liz vicariously through Booker vomitted on themselves at the end.

That said, I believe he intended for the masses to ship this romantically up until the reveal.

I believe this to be true for a few reasons:

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anonymous asked:

Who would you say are your closest mutuals on here? Write them a short message to brighten their day if you're up for it. ☀️✨🌟

I would say I’m close to these people in different ways? I love, appreciate, and support all of them with all of the will I can muster (which they know is a lot coming from my strong-willed Slytherin ass)

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