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stedes-black-bonnet · 5 years

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My Baby Does Me: Chapter 5

POV: John Deacon x reader

Notes: Whelp, I got carried away by Freddie in this one, guys. We will rejoin our regularly scheduled program in Chapter 6

Warnings: Swearing?

Abstract: You share a closet with a famous Queen.

You were in the closet with Freddie Mercury, holding a string. Could this night get any more bizarre? You immediately chastised yourself for jinxing it. You had the distinct feeling anything could happen in Freddie and Jim’s home. This had more to do with Freddie, you guessed, but you couldn’t deny the magic of this night and this place.

Freddie was as fascinated by the string as one of his cats might have been. To him it was more than a trinket from the party downstairs. He knew Deacy was sentimental to a fault, and somehow this balloon string meant something to him beyond its basic utility. But what? How best to find out?

Freddie looked from the string to you, deciding best how to phrase his words. His raw charisma was unmatched by anyone you had ever seen. Every gesture, every touch was laced with elegance, every word, every glance was intentional. Some might say he was affected and fraudulent even, but that wasn’t it, that didn’t touch it; he was stylized, particular, and commanding. There was absolutely nothing fake about Freddie Mercury.

“Y/N, dear?”

“Yes, Freddie?” Your voice sounded far away.

“Did something happen to you and Deacy with that string?” His eyebrows jumped scandalously.

You were sure he was implying something akin to being tied up. Admittedly, you felt a little tongue-tied, though that had nothing to do with this string. Going over the events of the past half hour, you felt somewhat surprised at yourself and unsure if you could trust your memory. It felt like those moments in the cupboard with John Deacon had happened to someone else, someone more interesting, someone more beautiful. Maybe this string was all the proof you needed to remind yourself of what had transpired. You kissed and kissed and kissed a man over and over and over. It had happened. And it wasn’t just any man, but John Deacon, bassist of Queen. And here you were standing next to Freddie Mercury talking about a string Deacy had given you only moments before. The absurdity of this made you burst into hysterical trills of laughter. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the natural high from making out with someone you couldn’t take your eyes off of, someone you couldn’t stop thinking about, maybe it was the larger than life presence of Freddie Mercury. You weren’t sure.

Freddie laughed with you, “Are you trying to tell me he did tie you up?”

“No, not at all!”

“And you’re disappointed he didn't?” Freddie winked at you. “Really, men just need a little encouragement then they’re ready to play the game, darling.”

“I usually don’t do this.” You slumped against the wall. Deep in thought, you slid to the ground.

“What? Talk with queers in closets? Quick! Should we oust ourselves?”

You knew he was trying to make you laugh; he was performing for you. “I don’t typically carry on with men, or with rock-stars, and I definitely don’t just make out with them at the drop of a hat.”

“Really? I used to do it all the time!” Freddie joined you on the floor with a flourish.

“Which--men or rock-stars?” You asked cheekily.

“Both! I recommend it highly. All you beautiful people should be making out all the time, if you ask me.”

“You must mean everyone but me,” You adjusted your glasses, frowning slightly. Freddie studied you closely, looking confused. You shook your head, “I’m not. I mean, I know the ‘everyone is pretty in their own way kinda line.’ I’ve always been the smart one, or the ‘oh at least she has nice eyes’ one; the one with the good personality; I’m not the pretty one, trust me.”

Freddie rumbled, sighing deeply. He knew about insecurity. A stranger in a strange land, surrounded by adoring fans who expected him to act a certain way continually. It was tiring to always be someone else, to never have anyone to share your true self with. Ever since he could remember he had been teased about his overbite, his ethnicity, his flamboyance, his identity, his sexuality; what often gets overlooked is how adversity often makes the weak strong, and the enemy petty and to be pitied. Well, here he was, in white hot-pants, a full-length red cape, lined in regal white fur, and an honest to god crown; he wasn’t about to let anyone tell him who he had to be, or what he was, or that who he was wasn’t acceptable. Life means absolutely nothing until you can be who you are out loud. Hiding wasn’t ever anything he was interested in or good at.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Freddie?” You were both sitting on the floor of the pantry, just two old friends sharing confidences.

“You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“What? Contemplating the course of my entire life?”

“You’re feeling sorry for yourself. And, dear, what really irritates me about it is you’re feeling sorry for yourself for having a good time. You’re beating yourself up because you don’t believe you deserve what happened in here, whatever that may have been.”

You wanted to fight him, you wanted to protest. But you couldn’t because you knew he was right. You weren’t a child; you were an adult, and old enough to know the difference between rationality and self-delusion. You weren’t being fair to yourself. Why were you deliberately trying to ruin what had happened between you and Deacy? What use was it to self-sabotage the moments you had shared? It was that beast in the back of your mind, the one that made you feel less than, the one that said you’re not good enough; it was awake in your mind, ready to pounce over every good thing that had happened tonight. Yet, here was this relative stranger, this rock-star front-man, this talented musician, sitting here telling you to knock it the fuck off. He didn’t need to do it; all Freddie saw was a person in need, and without even thinking of the consequences, here he was, beating away the darkness in your mind. He was too good to be true. And you couldn’t deny the accuracy of his words.

Since your teen years, however, you were suddenly in a world where everyone was compared to everyone else. Where standards were unreachable, unrealistic, and designed to separate people from each other instead of bringing them together. Instead of believing in yourself, in your own inherent worth, you belittle yourself, and destroyed your own happiness. What you and Deacy did happened to you and because you wanted it and he wanted you. You deserved it. Now if only you could really believe it.

Freddie took your hand in his, “Listen,” he said, “I don’t do that anymore. I used to, but not anymore. I don’t feel sorry for myself. And now that we’re friends, you don’t either. I don’t intend to let you. Deacy’s girlfriend won’t be down on herself unless she truly has reason for it.”

Looking into his brown eyes, you couldn’t help falling a little love with him. No one had ever put it that clearly to you before in such terms of finality. Feeling sorry for yourself for drama you create in your own head was pointless. Here we are again, our own worst enemies.

You didn’t know how to express your gratitude for his words, so instead, you said, “I’m not Deacy’s girlfriend.”

“Not yet.” His smile was conspiratorial. There was a glint in his eyes that made you feel like he always knew a secret, always had a hidden truth in his pocket. “Now, do I have to bitch at you more, or are we on the same page?”

“Same page, definitely. Though, if you wanted to bitch at me more, I’d let you.” You both laughed, and he patted your hand affectionately before letting go of it.

“Believe me, I’ve already done enough bitching tonight. I’m going to need to be contrite the rest of the evening, I wager.”

“Would that have to do with the chandelier?” You ventured a guess worth guessing.

“Jim is going to be disappointed. I do hate letting him down.” His frown was extravagant.

“Like you let the chandelier down?”

Freddie’s eyes flashed mischievously at you, “Well, I was caught up in the moment! and it really was the flashiest distraction I could think of…” This was pure drama; he tilted his head up, and swung an imaginary sword in the air like Errol Flynn.

“You dropped a chandelier from the ceiling to win at sardines?”

Freddie straightened out the creases in his cape, “Well, it does seem a bit foolish now, doesn’t it?”

“A bit?”

“Well only a bit, darling, considering there’s no way we can possibly win now.”

“I didn’t know you were all so competitive.”

“Oh, honey, we fight over EVERYTHING. Lyrics, politics, pizza toppings, tempo, fashion, where to eat for breakfast, legal words in scrabble, what order tracks should be on our albums, whether Godfather Part II is superior to the first one, and on and on. Really, it’s our favorite hobby, arguing with each other. You’d think the music, but no. You know, it’s purely by habit at this point we haven’t gone our separate ways.”

“That and you all clearly love each other, and love what you create together.”

Freddie’s eyes softened considerably, “Well, yes, that too. I’m surprised they put up with me. Honestly, I’m a basket-case, relentless; I never give in, and I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.”

“I admire that; I wish I had that.”

“Oh, you will someday.” He delicately waved a hand at you, “Either someone will push you hard enough and you’ll erupt out of that shell you’ve crafted for yourself, or you’ll get tired of always putting yourself second.”

“Deacy’s very mysterious.”

“Mysterious?” He was shaking his head, “He’s easy. He’s a walking contradiction in monochromatic outfits.”

“You think that’s easy?” You asked half-impressed half-disbelieving.

“After the people I’ve dated, yes.” He could tell you weren’t convinced. “Look at it like this: you’re famous, and it is like walking on a tightrope 24/7 darling, and maybe you’re in one of those spangly bodysuits hoping some small umbrella will keep you from falling flat on your arse.” He laughed, but his eyes were serious and dark. “Then! Suddenly, you fall.” He clapped his hands together loudly, making you jump. “And you don't fall onto some sensuous mattress, your lover waiting for you; no, you tumble into a crowd of people. The people who are always wanting a piece of you, needing to know what you're wearing tonight, who you’re fucking, who you want to fuck, what you’re next project is, if you really were out with Elton last night? Is it true what such and such tabloid printed about you last week?” He was speaking faster and faster and you knew the truth of his words ran deep into his heart. “Was it true what your ex said about you on that program? Were you seen doing cocaine at whatever club? Are the rumors true about trouble in the band?

“And it’s endless questions and lies, and it never stops. Not until they have every piece of you on display. Nothing is yours anymore; it’s theirs. How do you be yourself in that kind of ruthless swarm, darling? What would you do? What do you hide away? What do you keep for yourself? How do you keep yourself alive? What do you lie about to protect yourself, to protect those you love? How does it work? Being in the public eye and being private? You start to develop this second-skin literally, a persona that takes care of you. Though, this protection makes it harder to be yourself when the time calls for it. Maybe you aren’t even sure who you are anymore? Or even what that means.

“We all cope in whatever way we can; Deacy and I cope the same exact way. Yes, he’s not as outlandish as I am, but that is what is expected of me. He’s the bassist, they’re supposed to be elusive, quiet, enigmatic, sharp; and yes, he is those things in the public eye, but in private, well, you’ve seen him; he’s got his own brand of outlandish, outrageous swagger, charm, and daring. Still sharp as a tack and as deadly as an asp. Out there, he’s the musician they expect, the silent partner who writes the most heartfelt songs for me to sing, but he’s more than that. We all are. Well, maybe except Roger.”

You laughed together.

“It’s easy to pick on, Rog. He’s the strongest of us all though. Him and Brian. Strong as the sun, those dazzling men.”

“I had never thought about fame in those terms before, Freddie.” You were overwhelmed with what these men went through just to be successful artists. As someone following, hopefully, down the same path, you wondered if you were up to the challenge. “I’m sorry it is so consuming.”

Freddie grinned, “They haven’t discovered the person capable of consuming me yet, dear. We like it, Y/N. We must or we wouldn’t do it. We’d retire and do something else. Something,” he shuddered, “normal. It’s not the kind of men we are, to shy away from what we want.”

“Does that include women?”

“Deacy won’t let you go without a fight. Nothing will get in his way of possessing you, of belonging to you.”

“We’ve only just met; it’s ridiculous.”

“There it is again, that negative voice. Just enjoy the ride and take it at your own speed. Just because it appears he’s settled with you doesn’t mean he’ll pluck up the courage to tell you that for months. He’s romantic, yes, but not insane. He’d just die of embarrassment if he scared you away.”

“So would I, I mean, if I did something to scare him away.”

Freddie shrugged like a 1940’s starlet, “You won’t. You also aren’t stupid; he’d never be interested in you if you were; he’s a man of taste. Too bad he’s not queer.” He sighed regretfully.

“I’d fight you for him, Mr. Mercury!”

“And you’d probably win. I’m a bit too nelly to fight you on my own.” He mimed boxing you.

“How long before they send out a search party?”

“Could be days!” He gasped, “Why don’t we rejoin what’s left of the game?”

Freddie stood, then offered his hand to help you up. “Before we part ways, can I let you in on a little secret?”

You nodded.

“I know where Lydia is hiding already.” Freddie whispered.

Tag List: @phantom-fangirl-stuff @triggeredpossum @obsessedwithrogertaylor @groupiie-love @richiethotzierz @partydulce @sophierobisonartfoundationblr @psychostarkid

#john deacon x reader #freddie mercury #john deacon #roger taylor #brain may #jim hutton #roger taylor x reader #bohemian rhapsody #Queen #rami malek #ben hardy #gwilym lee #joe mazzello

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sonderisms-blog · 6 years

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❛ Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering. ❜

Spotted at Grand Central, bags in hand, {KAREN GILLAN}. No, that’s a mistake. It’s {AMELIA POND}, they are a {CANON CHARACTER} and come from {DOCTOR WHO}. They are {TWENTY-NINE} and I’ve heard they are {CREATIVE}, as well {OBSTINATE}. They happen to hold {THEIR} memories. Don’t believe me? See for yourself. Lucky for us, {jinx, 23, pst, she/her & they/them} sent us proof.

Welcome to New York, what is your character’s name?

Amelia Jessica Pond-Williams. Though, she took on the last name Williams when she was transported back to 1920s New York because she couldn’t really legally hyphenate + it was a testament to how much she loves Rory & how she was willing to leave behind her old life with the Doctor behind. But she prefers to just be called Amy!

Where have they been pulled from in their fandom?

Right when Amy & Rory make their exit in Doctor Who, in the Angels Take Manhattan. I imagine that she wakes up in her new life in this RP from that point.

With the curse, how has your character’s life changed?

Well, I don’t want to godmod the potential Rory player but if Rory isn’t in her life then that’s a major change ( though, I’d love if they were best friends who grew up together or something in the new life ). Like in canon, Amy had the belief the Doctor was real but instead of him coming back, he was just a story. She still grew up the same way in canon, the weird girl who turned ginger bombshell who was a kissogram but in this verse ( to mirror canon ) she gets picked up by a modeling agency and moves to New York. As far as Amy knows she’s lived in New York for 10 years, now a successful science fiction author and currently working on a children’s book both illustrating & writing it. Her life has changed because she turned her childhood shit into stories that have sold pretty well. She didn’t get married to Rory at a young age, she’s had quite a few years to develop who she is and live her life outside of Leadworth.

With Amy��s memories coming back, to put it simply, it hurts. All over again. Remembering it all, losing it all, it hurts. Though not a drinker AT ALL, Amy has found herself doing anything she can to forget remembering, working on a much darker novel than her previous ones. It’s been disorienting because even though her life is beautiful & brilliant as it is -- it’s not real. The feeling of things not being real, the blurring of lines between reality & falsity has really done a number on her as she does deal with mental illness, worrying that she’s finally, properly, losing her mind. Frankly, she doesn’t know if it’s real, she doesn’t know what’s real, though she tries to be Amy Pond, this blurring of reality is something that scares her. Another feeling she feels is anger, anger about what happened to her in canon, anger about having to doubt her own mind all over again and a determination to fix this and/or find the person responsible.

Do they have a job, and if so what is it?

To dive in more about her job, Amy isn’t the most famous person around but she definitely has mild celebrity due to her early modeling ( a model turned scifi author intrigues a lot of weird fanboys that’s for sure ), her books are what has really launched any celebrity she has into something more recognizable. Sometimes asked to help host D list red carpet shows, etc. Amy is not Known Known but you find her face recognizable. She’s done a lot of activism as well for mental illness and the LGBTQIA+ & Queer communities as she’s openly bisexual so there’s definitely a funky little cult following she has and she’s fairly popular in Scotland as well as a hometown hero in her town of Leadworth ( something she finds HILARIOUS as they hated her for years ).

Is there any other information about your character that members might find helpful?

THIS SECTION WILL BE FOR MY RAMBLING. Because where else am I GONNA DO IT??? I’ve been playing Amy for 5+ years now and I’m going to give y’all some insight on how i play her as well as how i see her. I’m watching an episode right now that’s helped come up with some of this as well. I’ll probably add more HCs as I slowly rewatch her scenes, etc.

A Sagittarius!!!!!!!!!! which literally fits her so well if you love astrology and Amy Pond, you already know!

One of my favorite aspects of Amy’s character is her empathy & intuitiveness. While sometimes lacking social grace and not always the best with interpersonal relations, she can see people for who they are deep down, their intentions, the emotions she feels like she feels from others often overwhelming but something that does lead her. A gut instinct magnified. She’s intuitive and empathetic because she’s got such an active imagination paired with a creative mind, she’s able to put those two things together, not only painting a picture of who someone is, painting colors on them they might not see themselves. Maybe this is a bit naive at times, maybe even a bit dangerous if it steers her wrong ( which is why Rory Williams is so important to her, her impulsiveness paired with this can get her into tough situations and he always has her back, always by her side ). Amelia is not always one to think before jumping into situations if she feels it’s the right thing to do, a prime example of this is her running off with The Doctor EASILY. Both as a kid and an adult. Luckily, not many have taken advantage of this as she can be extremely closed off emotionally. She’s a good judge of character and if she puts her faith in you, know while it could be surprising, it was a very much calculated, thought out, and a felt through choice. Amy’s extremely stubborn so good luck getting her to do something she doesn’t want to do ESPECIALLY if she doesn’t feel it’s right. Amy is usually able to connect to anyone and everyone some sort of way when she tries due to all of this, usually better with connecting to people than the ( Eleventh ) Doctor himself is.

[ EMOTIONAL NEGLECT MENTION, ALCOHOLISM MENTION ] Verbal, straightforward, blunt, but it when it comes to her emotions, the ones that hurt, the ones that can’t be wrapped in something beautiful or lightly joked about are the ones tucked away. Amy’s got serious commitment issues as well, as shown throughout Doctor Who, that stemmed from the Doctor leaving her multiple times as well as never knowing her parents. I play her Aunt as a high functioning alcoholic, growing up she was never really home much less attentive to Amy ( also due to the whole crack in Amy’s wall thing, but, that’s a whole other topic ). For insight on how this effects her, I once played her in a multifandom at hogwarts rp where she was in a relationship with a character and they were really fucking cute ( I still rp them to this day w/ my friend ). But she was SO cared of this relationship not working out / losing Rory because he had just confessed that he romantically liked her, that she broke up with the other person ( who she had deep feelings for who never EVER would’ve left her ) because Rory meant too much to her, he’d been there through everything, the thought of losing him? Unthinkable. this isn’t to say she didn’t love them both ( polyamorous Amelia Pond ftw! ), or value Rory as much ( I felt pressured to go into canon as well so I had to find a believable fault/fear/issue to really sell this but I think there’s something to be said for this ), I don’t play it that way in THIS rp, of course. [ END OF EMOTIONAL NEGLECT MENTION, ALCOHOLISM MENTION ]

It goes to show that she will make fear based decisions as well as decisions based on her insecurities that she’s not enough, that she’s more pain than she’s worth, out of not being able to give someone she cares about what they need. For example, when in canon Amy breaks up with Rory because she feels so guilty she can’t have biological kids when she knows he ALWAYS wanted kids. She was scared if she stayed with him, he’d hate her, that she was keeping him from having a fulfilling life, that she wasn’t enough and didn’t fit into what he wanted. Rory deserves everything to her, she couldn’t give it to him, when he gave and gave and gave to her. She didn’t feel worthy, but she didn’t express that fear either, making Rory feel completely shut out because she was shutting him out. She’ll self sabotage easily, because commitment is scary to her and she’d rather be the one leaving than being left. Amy can’t stand to wait for the worst to happen, for the other shoe to drop, she isn’t the fucking girl who waited -- not anymore.

Amy is diagnosed with major depressive disorder previously diagnosed with psychotic features added on as well until the Doctor came back but after having 4 psychiatrists in her youth, Amy definitely fits into having MDD. There are many evidences in canon besides her literally going to psychiatrists that suggest that Amy is mentally ill / ND, another hint in the episode ‘Vincent and The Doctor’. Amy empathizes with Vincent Van Gogh ( my Amy is an extreme art history lover as well, especially Vincent Van Gogh ), she says she’s been where he is, that she gets it. [ SUICIDE MENTION ] She is physically effected when he talks about dark shit and in another episode with the Dreamlord, she talks about how she doesn’t want to live in a world if Rory’s not in it, then killing herself in the show. The way she does it in my head ( and in the show ) is extremely steely, easily done, because Amy has dealt with mental illness, because she’s been in dark places & suicidal ideation. [ END OF SUICIDE MENTION ] In this RP, she’ll also have been diagnosed and is taking medication because we stan healthy characters who cope with their mental illness! Even though she’s definitely having a hard time currently.

Rory Williams really is everything to her. Her best friend, a love of her life, her partner, the only person who stuck by her side through everything. She never waivers in this love for him, even though she does have doubts due to her own commitment issues ( and regular issues ) but she doesn’t have doubts about who Rory is. She loves him. The Doctor is also someone she loves passionately, though she could’ve loved him romantically and often could see that sort of a future with him -- he’s completely unavailable and unreliable. If there’s one thing that Amy can’t do in a partner romantically it’s unreliable. Plus, after finding out her daughter was married to him in canon? She’ll pass. The Doctor is more like a twin flame sort of thing for her, a very kindred spirit. She loves him because in her little town of Leadworth, full of boring, sensible things, where she was the weird girl in town -- he was just as weird as her.

If I had to pick a Hogwarts house for Amy, it’d be Gryffindor.

#intro: amelia pond.#amelia pond: she's mad but she's magic.#intros make me nervous bc i never learned the art of brevity & my name is jared im 19 i never learned how to read #so we got a MESS ur honor!#but i just tell myself no one is paying me to rp STOP CARING SO MUCH fewoijfw #i aint getting no AWARDS #NO GRADES #this took so long bc its a high pain day and im slow! LRIJFFWE

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overdressedcarp · 7 years

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PLEASE POST IT.

NowPresenting: “Milo and Cavendish as Calamity Cronies” and Other Things I Need toExplain

This one’s for you, anon. You know whoyou are. (And I… don’t know who youare, unfortunately. You’re welcome in my ask box anytime, though.)

Thank you to Romina (@fisforfreakyme)for being the guinea pig for the first draft of this beast. You’re a saint.

The post that prompted this ask is here.

I’ve been pondering parallels betweenMilo and Cavendish for a while, because even though the show clearly isn’tsetting Cavendish up as the big bad, he’s still a bang-up antagonist, in largepart because of how he represents an alternate take (an “alternate future” inthe most absolutely figurative and deliciously ironic sense) on a characterwidely regarded as the embodiment of bungling things up—a character most peoplewould prefer “help by not helping.”

Cavendishand Milo both run into a lot of misfortune andthings-not-going-the-way-they’re-supposed-to. Milo’s bad luck is more dramatic(and sometimes ends up being the *cause* of Cavendish’s misfortune) but likeDakota says in “We’re Going to the Zoo,” they don’t really need Milo around toundermine their efforts. Half the time it’s Cavendish tripping over his own twofeet and botching things up himself.

Anoverarching theme in the show is how to react to bad circumstances. We’re givencharacters that fall all over the “healthily dealing with misfortune” spectrum,ranging from “shrug with a side of snark” to “snark with a side of neuroses” to“Everyone panic! I’ll start!” Cav and Milo embody totally opposite ends ofthis spectrum. Milo has learned to adapt to the chaos and at times is even ableto harness Murphy’s Law as an asset rather than a curse. Cavendish’s defaultresponse, in contrast, is to blame someone else for his woes and get angry/sulkyabout them.

This,more than any fuzzy notions of relative likeability, is what makes Milo thehero. This is the reason the show is called MiloMurphy’s Law and not The BalthazarCavendish Files.

Milohas been dealt what most people would call a bad lot in life—every day bringsone absurd disaster after another, ranging from mild inconvenience to actualphysical injury. He has to work exponentially harder than his peers just to getthe same results on assignments. Murphy’s Law causes absences from school andthen makes it nigh-impossible for him even to deliver a doctor’s note excusingthe absences. At first glance his life seems like a series of Sisyphean labors,rolling a boulder up a hill only for it to tumble back down again. But in thevery first episode, when Zack confronts Milo about Murphy’s Law, we see thatMilo doesn’t view his life in that light at all.

“I just can’t handle all of… this.”

“All of what?”

“This cyclone of calamity that follows youeverywhere you go! How do you live like this?”

“How do you live like *that*?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… you wanna live like those otherkids? They took a bus to school today. A bus! Does that seem like more fun toyou?”

Murphy’sLaw has forced Milo to grow up quickly, something which could easily be missedbehind the optimism and credulity. Despite having a lot of reasons to getdiscouraged or to resent Murphy’s Law, he does the exact opposite: he embracesthe “curse” as an opportunity. He has objectively less control over his lifethan most people do (most people, for instance, can wait at the bus stop in themorning without needing to factor in the possibility that a concrete drainage pipewill come rolling through and chase them down a hill), and yet he is constantlytaking responsibility: for his friends’ safety (and grades, and happiness, andeverything else), his sister’s movie-going experience, Amanda’s enjoymenthours… Murphy’s Law isn’t an excuse for Milo; it’s the very thing drivinghim. He’s gotten so good at making lemonade from his life’s never-ending supplyof lemons that most of the time he reallyis having more fun than everyone else.

You wanna live like those other kids?

Cavendishtransparently envies his coworkers, and it’s not difficult to understand why. Theirlives are glamorous and full of expensive creature comforts. The thingsCavendish strives for and consistently fails to achieve—respect, recognition,prestige—are awarded to them seemingly without effort.

They took a limousine to the past. Does thatseem like more fun to you?

Thetrajectory of Cavendish’s character arc is difficult to plot because he embodiesso many contradictions. He’s not a villain—muddy as his motives might be, Ibelieve his world-saving ambitions are birthed out of at least a seed ofgenuine altruism—but he’s also a long way from becoming a hero. He’s vain,petty, and quick to point fingers. More than anything, he’s held back bythe fact that his ego won’t allow him to grapple with the fact that he’sself-sabotaging. The narrative isn’t going to start taking Cavendish seriouslyuntil he can stop taking himself so seriously. But there’s more to Cavendish’sego than just taking himself too seriously: he’s driven—controlled—by a deeplyinsecure need for everyone else totake him seriously.

Forthe longest time, I was framing the question from the perspective of what itwould take for him to become the sort of person who warrants the kind ofvalidation he craves. But then I had a thought: what if Cavendish at his best isn’t the sort of person who warrantsthe kind of validation he craves? What if, in a weird upside-down way, it’s theexact opposite?

Rememberhow Milo introduces himself to Zack in Episode 1: “I’ve got a bit of areputation.” People know him as a jinx, a trouble-bringer if not atrouble-maker. Melissa and Zack know him well enough to see how distorted thatpicture is, but most people are reluctant to get that close.

Here’sthe thing. The show gives us moments where the people around Milo are able tosee and appreciate his capabilities. But Milo at his best isn’t ever going tobe the sort of person that Elliot or Bradley is going to appreciate, at least,not until their perspective on him changes. Milo is the one with the undistortedview, the one who can see himself and his condition clearly. (Remind me to talksometime about the symbolism of characters with glasses in this show.)

Cavendish,likewise, has “a bit of a reputation,” and it’s driving him crazy. Right nowBlock isn’t taking Cavendish seriously—he’s just the paranoid, bumbling idiotwho can’t complete a simple mission. Heck, nobody at the Bureau takes Cavendishseriously. And Cavendish hates it. But my long-shot theory is that what heviews as the biggest obstacle to his success could actually turn out to be hisgreatest asset.

Thistheory rests on the assumption that the Bureau is not actually a sacred fountof truth and justice with noble aims for the destiny of humanity, but if we’rebeing honest all my heart really needs is to see Mr. Block get his comeuppancefor being so delightfully detestable.

Anyway.I want to eventually seeCavendish taking himself less seriously, but not because I’m desperate to seehim become soft or huggable or even an especially nice person. I want to see Cavendishtaking himself less seriously because I can’t imagine a Cavendish more terrifyingthan one who knows he can takeadvantageof the fact that no one takes him seriously.

To Block, Cavendish is aninconvenience and a dolt, but not a threat. Cavendish is a bugbear for theBureau, sure, but not because he’s doingit on purpose. And Block takes that for granted, because it’s obvious toanyone in a five-mile radius just how badly Cavendish needs the Bureau’s validation.

I want Block to question Cavendish’scompetence. His sanity. Absolutely everything except for his loyalty. And Iwant it to come back to bite him hard. Because I’m not sure that even a massivewell-oiled government agency from the future is equipped to handle both Miloand Cavendish leaning full-tilt into their respective statuses as Magnets forDisaster.

#milo murphy's law #mml #milo murphy #balthazar cavendish #calamity cronies #we'll have to wait and see exactly what the writers have in mind after the season midpoint #but tbh #crowning moment of awesome for me would be letting the two of them wreak total havoc with the bureau #or whomever the big bad turns out to be #i just want block to absolutely fall apart when he realizes he's been checkmated by the most ineffective agent the bureau has ever seen #precisely *because* he's the most ineffective agent the bureau has ever seen #overdressed analysis #ask a carp a question #i trimmed down the tags but it's still an essay surprise surprise #putting this in the main tag because i am A Fool

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cheryllclayton · 7 years

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Sometimes It's Not What It Seems - Chapter 8 - Longing

Sorry for the wait for this update, I can honestly say that I struggled with chapter. These two are much easier to write together than apart...I don't even know how many times I rewrote it but I think I have it to a point where I am happy with it and it ended up being way longer than I had originally planned, so it's getting posted! Please let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy :)

Please leave comments, it honestly keeps us writers going! You can also find me on AO3 under Cherlynne, hope you liked it and stay tuned, Betty comes home next chapter!

You can see Betty's dress mentioned here:

https://instagram.com/p/BX0-20hloyE/

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The last 24 hours replayed through FP’s mind, their deep conversations and teasing, their heated make outs, cuddling together, her curled against him holding each other as they slept. Then more kisses that eventually lead to the best sex he’s ever had before wrapping together and falling back into a satisfied sleep.

He had woken first in the morning; she was sprawled across his chest looking utterly peaceful and angelic with her hair splayed out around her. He couldn't believe that she was laying there with him, that she had actually wanted him, his ex-wife had repeatedly told him that he was no good, that he was pathetic and unworthy of love and that no one would ever truly want him and after years of hearing it, he had actually believed it. Yet here was this amazing woman showing him what it was like to be needed, to be wanted, to feel something and it scared the shit out of him.

He was used to pushing down any emotions, sure it was lonely but he became pretty good at self sabotaging or pretending like nothing ever got to him and of course there was always drinking his feelings away, but he didn't want to depend on booze anymore and the emotional walls that he had spent years building, Betty had torn down in less than two. He knew he was going to fuck this up, it wasn't a matter of if, just when. Hell he had already made the stupid mistake of letting her think that this was just sex between friends.

He sighed closing his eyes and leaning further back into his pillow, he moved the arm that was wrapped around her so that he could run his fingers through her hair. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead causing her to stir, she hummed sleepily and tightened her hold on him.

“Mornin'” she mumbled into his chest.

“Morning Beautiful” he said, lips pressing against her forehead again.

She lifted her head, sliding up to capture his lips with her own. The kiss was slow and sleepy but still full of heat, he groaned as she slid her tongue into his mouth tangling it with his. He lightly gripped her hair in his hand, pressing her lips more firmly on his as he ravaged her mouth.

She finally broke the kiss, both of them panting and nuzzled her nose into his neck, “As much as I would love to stay here in bed all day, I have a plane to catch and I really need to shower before I do, so.”

He huffed but let her go so she could sit up. He watched her with a lazy appreciation as she climbed naked off of the bed moving away to pick up his shirt from the floor, “Have I told you that you have a great ass?” he asked.

She laughed, “It sounds vaguely familiar” she replied tapping a finger to her lips in thought before shrugging the shirt over her head and walking back to the edge of the bed.

She held his gaze as she trailed a finger down his chest and abs stopping when it met the sheet sitting below his navel, she could see his arousal already growing under the sheet, pointing towards his stomach. She slipped her finger below the sheet barely brushing his tip making him twitch in response, he groaned and his eyes darken as she ran her finger back up in the opposite direction.

He growled catching her hand, “I would suggest you hit the showers you little minx or I cannot be held accountable for you missing your flight.”

The need in his voice and his hungry stare made her throb and she felt heat pool between her thighs at the knowledge that he’d follow through with his admission if she allowed him to.

She licked her lips backing away from the bed towards the door, “You know” she said biting the inside of her cheek and grinning, “I could always use an extra hand” she teased before walking out of the room.

FP laid there a moment, stunned by her bold proposal before stumbling out of bed and following her to the bathroom. He may be a lot of things but a fool wasn’t one of them, Betty had just given him an open invitation and he was taking it.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of wet skin and slippery bodies, creating pictures that would be forever burned into his brain. Images of his hands, touching every inch of her body as she responded with zeal, of a golden temptress, on her knees with her mouth wrapped around him bringing him almost to the brink before he took her against the tiled wall of the shower, the sounds of thrusts and moans filling the small space as she came apart around him. By the time they exited, the water had gone cold, their muscles were weak and their bodies sated.

He had put on a strong face when they said goodbye that morning, he told her that he would be fine and her trip would be great and to enjoy herself and not worry about him.

“I’ll miss you” she had whispered against his lips as she kissed him, letting a few rogue tears run down her cheeks.

“Me too” he told her wiping the tears away, “please don’t cry, before you know, it’ll be Christmas and you’ll be back” he comforted kissing her forehead.

“Yeah I know, I’m just emotional, it’s silly” she sniffed, “You sure you won’t forget about me” she said only half joking.

“That would be impossible Sunlight, especially after last night, aaaaannnd this morning” he grinned making her blush as she smiled shyly.

“I have to go” she sighed chewing on her lip.

FP wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as she clung to his middle. She pulled back, tilting her head back for his kiss. It was desperate and bruising and seemed to say everything they couldn’t.

“Goodbye FP” she ghosted against his lips as she broke away and then she was gone.

FP sat on the couch staring at his front door once she had left, hoping that any minute she'd walk back through it yet knowing full well that that wasn't going to happen. He doesn't know how long he sat there but his reflection was interrupted by the shrill ringing of a phone for the second time in 24 hours.

Forcing himself up off the couch he answered the call with a gruff “Hello”.

“Hey Dad” the voice on the other line said.

“Hey, hey Jug” he replied as he leaned against the wall and let his head fall back against it.

“Did you get my message last night?” he asked.

FP couldn't stop the small snort that escaped him when he thought about the imperfect timing of his last call. He had listened to the message in the morning while Betty was getting ready, it wasn't long, simply apologized for being out of touch for so long and let him know that he was okay, said he had been doing really well actually and that he had basically phoned to bullshit and to ensure him that he was in fact still alive and that he'd try him again in the morning.

“Yeah, I got it, just listened to it this morning, sounds like you're doing well” he replied.

“I am, it's almost unbelievable how well actually, that's why it took so long to call you, I almost felt like it would jinx things if I shared everything with anyone before it had been solid for a while, I didn’t want to let myself get too hopeful” he admitted before carrying on enthusiastically.

FP listened as he told him about college and the courses he's taking, about his little apartment that he shares with a guy named Jude who is the very definition of a free spirit, dreadlocks and all. Jug tells him about the city he lives in and the novel he's started to write, then asks him about work, FP tells him that he's working full time at Andrews Construction and doing mechanic work on the side and it's all been going well.

“That's great Dad” Jughead exclaims, “So…..how is everything else going, are you good?” he asked trying to make it sound light.

FP knew he was referring to his drinking and general lack in ability to take care of himself, “I'm good kid, also still kicking” he joked.

Jughead chuckled, “Glad to hear it, you sound good Dad, tired but good”, FP could hear someone shout Jughead's name in the background, “Listen, I gotta go” he said sounding farther away like he lowered the phone, “I'll leave my number in case you need it but if anyone asks, can you keep it and everything else to yourself....I haven't reached out to anyone else and I am not ready to yet, I just want to concentrate on what I need to do here” he pleaded.

“Yeah, of course, no problem Jug” he answered him clearing his throat, “I'm glad your happy Son” he said truthfully.

“Me too, take care of yourself, talk to you later, Bye”

“Bye Jug” he responded as the line clicked off.

He hung up the phone and sprawled back out on the couch, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should’ve mentioned his friendship with Betty, with the exception of the last 24 hours of course because besides the fact that that conversation would of been awkward as hell, when it came down to it, it wasn’t anyone’s damn business but their own.

He shook off the feeling however, as he crossed his arms over his face. Jug had said himself he that he wasn’t ready to talk to anyone else and FP figured if Jug was curious about any one person, he would have asked. Not that FP was the go to person for Riverdale gossip, the farthest thing from it actually, if Jughead had wanted the lowdown on anyone he would have asked someone like Archie, not him.

Also, he wasn't the only person involved in this situation and after Betty’s speech about not owing Jug anything, FP’s pretty sure she wouldn’t be too happy with him if he had said something without discussing it with her beforehand.

Betty had told him that her past was her past and that she wasn’t going to feel any sort of guilt when it came to moving on regardless who it was with, and that he shouldn't either. So he took her advice, closing his eyes while letting the movie of them play in his mind as he allowed the last day’s exhaustion to claim him.

***

Betty was exhausted when she finally arrived in Paris, it was 2:00 am Paris time and it took her an hour to get through customs and collect her luggage before taking the airport shuttle to the small block of apartments that had been rented for them just a few blocks away from the University of London Institute.

She went to the security desk and showed them her ID and they gave her her room keys and all the information she needed for the apartment. She found her apartment easily and once inside she glanced around quickly, she was too tired to give it a thorough look right then but from what she could see it was nice, small but cozy.

There was an open living space that consisted of a comfy looking sectional, a coffee table, a floor lamp and a TV. There was a small nook off to the side of the living room with a small desk that held a computer and there were bookshelves built into the wall above it. Next to the nook was a glass sliding door which looked like it lead to some sort of terrace. The kitchen faced the living area and looked to have all the basic appliances plus an island with four chairs stationed on one side.

It was cute she thought as she made her way down the hallway, she peaked in the first door which was the bathroom, it was actually quite large with a double sink, a shower and a deep claw foot bathtub that she would definitely be taking advantage of.

Betty continued down the hall, there were two more doors which she assumed were the bedrooms, she looked in both, neither one looked occupied so that meant her roommate hadn’t arrived yet.

Both rooms had similar furnishings, one was painted a light yellow with complimentary shades of yellow and grey décor. The other bedroom was done similarly, the only difference being that any where the first had had yellow this one had a light sea blue instead. She decided to take the yellow one because of its sunny vibe and hoped her roommate wasn’t a stickler on room choice. She’d hate to start off on the wrong foot.

She unpacked her essentials and hung her clothes in the closet so they wouldn’t wrinkle before collapsing on her bed, which to her delight was extremely comfortable. Betty didn’t think she’d been this tired in her life. Besides all the packing and the whirlwind of the last week, the jet lag had settled in.

Not to mention that she hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night either she mused, the memory making her smile, and it was those same thoughts that had interrupted her ability to sleep on her flight. The images of her and FP had been playing on repeat in her mind from the moment she left. And now that she knew how it felt to have his expert hands and mouth on her body, to have him move in sync with her, above her and within her, she hadn’t been able to think of much else.

Every time she had closed her eyes on the plane, her mind would turn these memories into dreams of strong hands, sweaty bodies and soft moans. And to her mortification, during one particularly heated mid-flight dream, she had actually woke, catching herself releasing one of those soft moans out loud.

Thankfully, she was sitting alone but based on the look given to her by the person across the aisle, she’s pretty sure the surrounding passengers had all heard her expression. After that she made sure to stay awake for fear of dying from utter embarrassment.

Betty’s eyes grew heavier the longer she laid there on her bed, it was late and she didn't have any sort of schedule to adhere to for the next two days, so she crawled under the covers not even bothering to undress before she drifted off to sleep.

***

Betty woke to the sound of a door shutting down the hall, she rubbed her eyes and looked at her phone, it was just after 8:00 am so she had been sleeping for almost five hours. She took a minute to check her text messages, she had a couple “suggestions” from her Mother that she chose to ignore, instead opening the one other text from FP.

‘Hope everything went well today and I can’t wait to hear all about it, talk to you soon’.

Then, almost as an afterthought sent fifteen minutes after the first message, was another text that simply said ‘I miss you’.

She couldn’t stop the large smile that spread across her face as she read the text over a few times. She bit her lip still grinning as she typed back a reply.

‘Everything went good, I’m tired and jet lag sucks! But the trip itself went smoothly. Also….I miss you too’ she added a happy face then hit send.

She left her phone next to her bed; it was still the middle of the night in Riverdale so she wasn’t expecting any sort of response anytime soon. She changed out of yesterday’s clothes and into a pair of yoga shorts and a tank top. After a quick stop in the bathroom she went out into the common area expecting to find her roommate but the room was empty. She must be in her bedroom Betty thought shrugging to herself as she went over to the door by the desk, she slid it open and stepped out into the morning.

Betty gasped at the view before her, their apartment was six floors up and she could see out over rooftops and buildings with an unobstructed view of the Eiffel Tower in the background. It was absolutely breathtaking; she leaned over, elbows resting on the terrace ledge. She stood there taking in as much as possible, her eyes sweeping over every detail they could. Houses with different coloured roofs, some with porches, others with little picket fences, a florist shop just down the street with sidewalk stands overflowing with different kinds of flowers. She could see the University of London a few blocks down, the campus overlooking the Esplanade des Invalides, of course she knew that because she had read the program guide before coming but she still felt smug for being able to recognize the building.

The terrace wasn’t huge but like the rest of the apartment it was nicely decorated. There were potted green plants in the corners and flower baskets hanging from the ledge which was made of stone and had been carved to look like something out of Romeo & Juliet. There were two large lanterns mounted on either side of the door and off to one side was a small metal bistro table with two chairs.

This was definitely her favourite spot in the apartment she decided as she leaned her elbows on the ledge again, resting her chin on one hand, sighing happily as she enjoyed the view. She was so lost in the wonder of it all that she didn’t hear the footsteps walk up and stop in the open doorway, eyes watching her.

“Beautiful” a male voice whispered from behind her, making Betty jump and let out a small shriek as she whipped around.

She stared wide eyed at the stranger leaning against the door frame, “Excuse me?” she asked when her heart rate had slowed a bit.

He cleared his throat, “Uh…the view” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting, “It’s beautiful isn’t it”.

“It is…..” she replied warily, “Um not to sound rude, but who are you and why are you in my apartment?”

“Oh right, sorry” he said pushing off the door frame and stepping forward offering his hand, “I’m Ash, Ash Black, your roommate it would seem.”

“Betty…Betty Cooper” she provided shaking his hand while eyeing him still with confusion.

Ash looked her up and down appreciatively, her hand still in his “Don’t take this the wrong way Betty , but you don’t look like a guy” he teased grinning at her.

“Thanks….I think” she blushed, dropping his hand and casually crossing her arms over her chest, suddenly very aware that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “There must be some sort of mistake” she went on “I thought they didn’t room co-ed?”

“They don’t usually, probably to avoid awkward situations like this” he chuckled, “I'm not sure what happened but if you want we can walk down to the program office to see if we can get this sorted out?” he offered with a kind smile.

Betty studied him for a moment, he looked harmless enough, in fact he was actually quite attractive if you liked the blonde haired, blue eyed, athletic, Abercrombie model type with cute dimples she thought in amusement.

“Okay” she agreed, “Just let me get changed.”

The program office had just opened when they got there so they didn’t have to wait long. Apparently the mix up had happened because Ash’s full name was actually Ashley which caused him to get mixed in with the female registrants and since they were both adults the advisor left it up to them to decide whether they wanted to continue rooming together or not. Unfortunately all the other students had already checked into their respective rooms leaving no empty beds. Their only options were to uproot and shuffle some of the students which didn’t seem fair to those being uprooted or to move one of them to another apartment building that had space, which wasn’t ideal as it left them both rooming alone and one of them at a whole different building.

Ash looked at Betty, “Honestly, the situation doesn’t bother me at all but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, so it's your call.”

Betty chewed her lip deliberating, he seemed nice enough and she didn’t want to be a bother to anyone else, “Are you sure?” she asked him.

“Definitely” he said grinning at her.

“And you’re not going to kill me in my sleep or have weird random girls over every night that I run into half naked in our kitchen?” she queried with fake suspicion.

He burst out a laugh, “I can promise that I’m not a murderer, however, I can’t guarantee that I won't ever have a girl over” he said with an eyebrow wiggle, “but I’m not into random nightly weirdos and I'll keep all nakedness to my room” he assured. “Can you say the same?” he asked with a smirk.

Over the last year and after everything that had happened with FP, Betty had found her confidence had grown so she rose to his teasing, mirroring his smirk with her own, “While tempting….one night stands with weirdos aren’t my thing, but I’m not ruling out all men, a girls got needs you know” she shrugged boldly making his eyes widen.

“And don’t worry, I do not harbour any deep dark urges, however,” she paused, eyes twinkling in amusement, “if you snore excessively, then yes, I may be forced to smother you in your sleep” she told him as seriously as she could muster.

The laugh she pulled from him was so contagious that Betty couldn’t keep her straight face and ended up breaking down into a fit right with him.

Once they had collected themselves they let the advisor know of their decision and left.

“Well, one thing is for sure” Ash said, “this semester should be anything but boring” he winked at her, bumping her with his hip and tossing an arm across her shoulders as they left the office.

***

It had been over a week since Betty had arrived and she had spent most of her time with Ash, sightseeing and getting familiar with the area surrounding their apartment and the University. The program advisors had recommended for safety reasons, that roommates become travel buddies per say, basically, whenever possible, you do things together, wherever they go, you go and vice versa.

So they had rented mopeds and toured the City, noting the locations of restaurants and cafes, drug stores, bus routes and anything else that caught their attention or came across as interesting or useful.

The saw a few of the sights, walking through the Arc de Triomphe and climbing all 1,665 steps to the top of the Eiffel Tower before strolling through the Champs des Mars where she stopped to take a selfie in front of the tower to send to FP. In spite of how much she was enjoying Paris, and even with all the activities to keep her busy, she couldn’t help but miss him, he was still very much at the forefront of her mind.

As she travelled, she found herself subconsciously thinking things like ‘I bet FP would like this’ or ‘ I wish FP could see this .’ She really wasn’t sure if these feelings were going to fade or get worse over the next four months but currently, she felt like she was losing her mind a little.

It was that small bit of insanity had her pacing in front of their apartment desk clenching and unclenching her fists as she waited for FP to answer his Skype. Betty was both anxious and excited all at the same time and it was wreaking havoc on her nerves.

She hadn’t spoken to him since the morning she left, well besides through text but that wasn’t the same. She wanted to hear his voice and see his smile, the one that he seemed to reserve only for her. She had even missed his cheeky little smirk, which she actually found incredibly sexy but would never admit.

It was only 11:00 am in Riverdale and as the call continued to ring on the screen, she was getting nervous that he wouldn’t be home or that he wasn't awake being that it was his Friday off. She had so much to tell him and didn’t want to do it over text messages but between their schedules and the time difference it made face to face conversations difficult. She was already kicking herself for not adding international calling to her cell plan.

Betty was so focused on her movement and worry that she hadn’t noticed that her call had been answered.

FP raked his eyes over her as she paced, her hair was down in soft waves and she was wearing a white patterned dress that was sheer except for the places it shouldn’t be. The dress had floaty sleeves and hung loosely around her body stopping mid-thigh showcasing her exquisite legs.

“Elizabeth” he swallowed, “You look amazing.”

Betty stopped when she heard his voice, whipping her head towards the computer screen, she smiled widely as she took him in, her heart pounding faster when she noticed the appreciation in his eyes.

He must have just gotten out of the shower as his hair was still wet and dripping down his bare chest. He had also shaved as he was missing the five o’clock shadow he usually sported.

He looked good… really good she thought squeezing her thighs together to suppress the ache that was building. Her movement didn’t go unnoticed by FP as she could clearly see the want darken his eyes which only further increased the sensation between her legs.

“You look pretty great yourself” she whispered, sitting down at the desk licking her lips.

“Fuck I miss you” he admitted, voice husky.

“I miss you too” she said softly feeling tears prick her eyes, “God this is harder then I thought,” she swiped an escaped tear away.

“Hey hey, don’t do that, I’m right here Lizzie” he soothed.

“I know and I know it’s only been a week, I just....I've been thinking about you a lot and seeing you now and hearing your voice, it just brings a lot of stuff flooding in all at once. It was almost like I was missing my rock or my constant since I left, does that make sense?” she asked taking a deep breath and blowing it out to calm herself.

“Yeah, completely” he admitted, “I feel the same way”.

They stared grinning at each other for a moment before Betty cleared her throat and spoke again.

“Ok, well enough of that” she said letting out a breathy laugh, “We only have so much time and I doubt you want to spend it watching me blubber” she smiled.

Twenty minutes flew by as they talked, or more like, Betty talked while FP listened. She told him about all the things she had done and seen so far, he listened tentatively, only making her pause so he could grab a shirt and throw it on, much to her disappointment.

She was so focused on her story that she didn’t hear Ash into the room, a towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another. His iPod stuck in the towel at his waist, ear buds in his ears as he bopped along to whatever song was playing. He walked behind her and out onto the terrace, Betty completely unaware until she noticed the smile drop on FP’s face, halting her story.

She tilted her head in confusion, “What’s wrong?”

“Um not to sound like ‘that guy’ but why is there a half-naked man in your apartment?” he questioned.

She was confused at first then looked around and saw Ash standing on the terrace, “Oh, that’s Ash, my roommate” she chuckled, amused by his tone.

“But he’s a guy” he stated like it wasn’t obvious.

“Wow, I didn’t notice” she said mockingly, making a show of looking at Ash, studying him like it was something she just realized, “That’s some top notch detective skills there Sherlock” she teased.

FP frowned at her, clearly not amused, “I thought you said they roomed by gender?”

“Well they usually do, but funny story, so Ash’s name is actually Ashley which caused him to get mixed in with the female registrants. We went and talked to the program advisor but since all the students had checked into their rooms already, it would’ve caused a lot of inconvenience to others if we had to switch, and since we're adults, they said it was our choice so we just decided to stay roommates” she rambled on, “You can imagine my surprise when he had shown up in my apartment but he’s actually been really sweet about the whole thing, even leaving the final decision up to me as he said rooming together didn’t bother him, so yeah, here we are” she finished with a breath.

“Yeah, I can imagine he’s really put out by it” he said dryly.

“FP” she said like she was taming a child, “He's just a friend.”

“So why didn't you mention that he was a 'he' when we had texted? I had actually assumed that Ash was short for Ashley, but in the female sense” he said.

“I don't know FP” she huffed, “because it never really occurred to me I guess and I didn't really think it would matter or that it was an important piece of information.”

“Yeah” he snorted, “It’s really none of my business any way right” he said flippantly, Betty’s brow furrowing at his remark.

They both went quiet and she studied him trying to figure out where this animosity was coming from as he pretended to concentrate on a point off screen.

FP sighed, feeling bad at the tension he had caused, he met her gaze again, “Look, I don't want to argue, lets just forget it ok?”

Betty searched his eyes for answers but he wasn't letting anything show, so she let it go.

“Fine” she muttered, still puzzled by his actions.

She saw his signature smirk pull at his lips before he opened his mouth again, “And I'm sorry, I was going to say anything but honestly , who names their son Ashley ?” he exclaimed trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re one to talk, Forsythe!” she countered chuckling.

“Touché Cooper touché” he resigned, “And of course he would have to be some modern day Adonis” he brooded.

“Oh, is he attractive?” she asked, widening her eyes innocently, “I didn’t notice” she grinned, biting her cheek to keep from laughing.

FP frowned, giving her a look of disbelief and making her giggle.

Ash walked back in then, pulling his ear buds out and grabbed both ends of the towel now wrapped around his neck, his muscled torso on full display. “Hey Coop, are you…oh sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to someone” he apologized.

“No worries, you remember me telling you about FP right? One of my good friends from back home, well, this is FP and FP this is my roommate Ash” she gestured between the two.

“Hey Man” Ash said with a nod to which FP only grunted in reply earning him a look from Betty that said ‘play nice’.

“Hey” he conceded keeping his voice level.

Ash secretly took joy in the man’s annoyance and turned his attention back to Betty.

“So Betts”, he placed a hand on her shoulder so she’d turn to face him, I just need to change and then I’m good to go, will you be ready by the time I’m done?” he asked, not removing his hand.

“Oh crap, is it that time already?” she asked frowning slightly, surprised by how fast their time went.

“Yeah, it starts in 20 minutes.”

“Okay, I just have to put on my boots and grab my purse and I’ll be ready” she told him.

“Great!” he enthused, giving her shoulder a squeeze before sending the other man a smirk knowing full well that he had been watching their interaction with distaste. “Be out in a few” he told her finally removing his hand from her shoulder and shooting a quick “Nice to meet you” to FP before heading back down the hall.

Betty jump up, “I’m just going to grab my boots, I’ll be right back” she said as she moved out of view.

That smug son of a bitch FP thought, he blatantly flirted with her right in front of him, he was trying to get a rise out of him and god dammit it was working.

Betty came back and put one foot up on the chair, sliding it into a tall black knee high boot and zipping it up, then switching legs to repeat. The action caused her already short dress to ride up giving him a full view of her long legs, he momentarily forgot his anger, his mouth going dry and his body reacted to the view as he remembered what it was like to have those amazing limbs wrapped around him.

She talked as she went about her task, oblivious to what she was doing to him, “Sorry that I have to cut this short” she apologized, “I would have liked to talk to you longer but we have the programs kick-off event tonight, dinner starts right away and then there’s a banquet with drinks and music and our own private tour of Invalides, it should be fun” she plopped back down in the chair having finished with her boots.

“Yeah, sounds great” he agreed, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. “So, you and Ash are like, going together?” he inquired trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah, our advisors really push the whole buddy system thing with your roommates, plus he’s the only one I know here so far” she shrugged.

“He likes you, you know” a scowl appearing on his face.

“Don’t be silly, he barely knows me” she gaffed, waving away his concern.

Part of what made Betty so attractive was the fact that she seemed completely unaware of just how beautiful she was. Sure she teased once in a while in fun and could flirt with the best of them when she was being playful and felt comfortable but she was also oblivious to just how many appreciative looks and stares she received on a daily basis. While her humble nature contributed to her sweetness it also made her slightly naïve when it came to the minds of men.

“He’s not doing very well at hiding it Elizabeth, I’m not blind and neither is he” FP said, letting his annoyance seep through a little.

Betty sighed, “I think you’re reading too much into it, mistaking friendliness for attraction. Is this because of what happened between us? It's supposed to be casual, it's not supposed to be complicated or hinder each other, you said no strings, those were your words remember?” she said getting frustrated.

“What do you want me to say Elizabeth?” he said throwing up his hands, “When we talked about it beforehand I didn’t imagine that it or us would feel that intense and then when you left, I wasn’t expecting to feel the way that I do” he exhaled, running his hands over his face and into his hair in equal frustration.

“Well neither did I!” she threw back, “You weren’t the only one surprised you know by the intensity of it all. Was it amazing? Yes! Do I miss you? Yes! Do I regret it? No! Would I do it again if I had the chance, Yes probably! But the reality is, we are oceans apart right now so regardless what happened we can’t promise each other anything!” she admitted, breathing rapidly from their exchange. She took a moment, blinking back the moisture that threatened her eyes again, before continuing, “I don’t know what else to say either FP and I don’t want to fight with you, I just...I don’t know what you want from me” she finished, sounding a little defeated.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t want to fight with you either and believe it or not but this isn’t just about what happened between us, I want you to be happy Lizzie I do but I also don't want you getting hurt and there’s something that rubs me the wrong way about that guy. You barely know him and you’re living in the same apartment and spending a lot of time together, what if he’s not who he seems to be?” he questioned then held up his hand to stop her when she started to speak, “I know what you're thinking, yes, maybe I am slightly jealous, but I just…I have this bad feeling about him. I’m worried about you and I don’t like that I’m too far away to protect you if you need it” he confessed.

“It's not your job to protect me FP and you’re concern, while a little misplaced, is sweet but I honestly don't think you have anything to worry about. Ash has been nothing but nice and to be fair, you've only just met him for what like a minutes over Skype? Everything is going to be fine” she assured him.

“Alright” he resigned, “I'll give him the benefit of the doubt but if he does anything sketchy so help me” he warned.

“FP” Betty chided, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Fiiinne, I'll let it go” he exaggerated, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Thank you” she nodded, turning when she heard Ash come back out, “Guess it's time to go” she informed, her voice holding a tone of either guilt or disappointment, he wasn't quite sure which one.

“Okay, talk to you soon, yeah?” he smiled raising one brow.

“Definitely” she grinned as she stood.

“Be safe Elizabeth and I miss you” he said honestly.

“I mis...” she started, but was cut off by Ash's voice.

“Ready?” he asked smiling down at her, placing a hand on her lower back.

FP felt his jealousy and distrust build again, it didn't help that he suspected Ash of listening in on the last little bit of their conversation, inserting himself at just the right moment.

“Yeah” Betty said, “talk to you soon okay?”

FP nodded, “Yeah... soon ” he said emphasizing the word while looking right at Ash who gave him another smirk and a wink, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Bye” Betty said giving him a small wave and a smile.

“Bye” FP said as he saw Ash reach toward the keyboard before his screen went black.

“Fuck” he swore to himself as he sat there trying to remain calm, slamming his laptop shut. Regardless of what Betty thought, there was something off about that guy, he definitely had an agenda and there wasn't a damn thing FP could do about it from where he sat. He couldn't keep bringing it up with her as she would just assume he was jealous. His only option was to trust Betty's judgement and let it be like he told her he would and hope that nothing happened.

He got up and found himself pacing, he couldn't keep still and he needed to relax, this would be the time that would of had him reaching for the bottle in the past but he didn't want to slip so he needed to clear his head. He decided to bury his thoughts in an engine, either working below it or riding above it he thought as he grabbed his leather jacket and keys before storming out of the trailer.

***

Fall had slipped into winter and Betty stood on her terrace wrapped in a blanket watching the bustle of people below as families enjoyed the Thanksgiving weekend. She loved the holidays and being thousands of miles from family and friends made her miss home even more than usual. Her last holiday she had spent with FP and thinking about him still left an ache in her chest, sure they talked or texted regularly but the longing she felt for him had yet to leave her and she could hardly wait to go home for Christmas.

Ash went out for a bit and was going to grab them Chinese for supper on his way home, they had decided not to make a big deal out of Thanksgiving which she was fine with, her heart wasn't really in it anyway.

A couple walked below her, wrapped up in each other, the woman was laughing at something her partner was telling her, their love evident in their sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks.

Betty sighed and walked back into her apartment, she threw the blanket over the couch and heading to the fridge to open a bottle of wine. It wasn't like she was bitter she thought as she poured, but it was hard to watch people be so in love and not feel slightly envious. She knew her and FP weren't together that way but that's still who popped into her mind whenever she saw couples like the one outside and Paris being the city of love, it seemed like everywhere she turned it was being thrown in her face, reminding her of what she didn't have.

She was putting the wine back in the fridge when a loud knock came at the door.

“Did you forget your keys again?” she called, walking to the door assuming it was Ash.

She opened the door but instead of finding Ash she found a very bubbly and excited Veronica Lodge.

Veronica squealed and threw herself at the blonde, hugging her tight while bouncing up and down. When she pulled back Betty was staring at her in shock.

“Ronnie? Oh my god what are you doing here?”

Veronica whisked past her into the kitchen dropping her purse on the island. “Daddy's here on business until Christmas and when I heard through the grapevine, better known as Archie, that you were here in Paris I called your Mom and found out where you were staying so I could surprise you” she smiled widely.

Betty couldn't believe it, she hadn't seen Veronica since the summer after graduation as she'd been travelling with her parents, tagging along from one exotic location to the next and now she was here, standing in her apartment in Paris and she couldn't of been more thrilled. It's almost like someone knew she needed a little piece of home.

“This is the best surprise ever!” Betty exclaimed her eyes misting as she grabbed the raven haired girl in another tight squeeze.

“Hey now, don't you go crying on me B, this is a celebration!” she said throwing her hands up, “Grab me a glass and bring that bottle of wine” she instructed as she plopped down on the sectional, “We have a lot of catching up to do!”

Veronica told Betty all about her travels, including the many fleeting romances she had had as she toured the world and Betty told her about NYU and what had happened with Archie and her Mom and the program. Then lastly, once she worked up the nerve, she told her about FP. Veronica had known about their developing friendship before she had left and how FP was there for her the second time she had broke but she didn't know just how deep or important their friendship had become.

She told her about their ritual Friday's and how she was working with him to increase her mechanical experience. And about his sobriety and the classes he had taken and his plans to buy his own garage.

She mentioned how close they had grown, especially the summer before she left, with her staying over some nights to get a break from her Mother and to keep herself sane. Even though Veronica seemed very supportive about the whole thing, Betty had left out the details about her last night in Riverdale. She was dying to talk to someone about it, but wasn't quite ready to divulge that information just yet.

By the time Ash had returned home the two women were on their second bottle of wine and both bordering on tipsy. He was surprised to come in and find Betty giggling, half drunk on the couch with a woman he'd never met.

“You must be Ash!” Veronica said cheerfully jumping up and taking the flustered man in a hug, “I'm Veronica, Veronica Lodge, one of Betty's very best friends” she informed holding out her hand to him.

He dropped the bags of food on the island and took her hand, “Nice to meet you Veronica” he said, giving her his most charming smile.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” she cooed looking him up and down.

His eyes widen at her boldness and he looked at Betty who choked on her wine at his expression.

“Sorry Ash” Betty giggled, “Ronnie has no filter when she drinks, or ever actually for that matter.”

Ash laughed, “It's quite alright, I have nothing against beautiful woman telling me how hot I am” he said with a cocky wink as he started pulling Chinese containers out of the bags.

The rest of the night flew by as they shared food and laughs and more wine. Betty was fairly buzzed by the time they called it a night, crawling under the covers with Veronica. They giggled and whispered back and forth, like they were back in high school again.

“Ash totally has the hots for you you know” Veronica told her.

Betty sighed, “Yeah, I know, FP had actually told me the same thing my first week here but I just waved it off, but it appears he was right. He was subtle at first but his advances per say, have become more obvious.”

“How do you mean?” Veronica asked.

“Well, he’s always touching me, not inappropriately, but whenever he has the chance, like a touch on my hand, my arm, my back, or throwing his arm around me, pulling me close for pictures, you know” she told her blushing slightly, “And he's always very flirty or makes comments, at first I thought he was just kidding around but I can actually see the want in him now. Plus, every time we go out lately, it feels more and more like a date. He’s never made a move though, besides a kiss on the cheek once or twice. Oh and he hardly ever wears a shirt anymore when we're at home” she chuckled.

“Well I'd like to see that” Veronica admitted making Betty giggle again, “So what's the problem B, why haven't you jumped on that yet?”

“Ronnie!” Betty scolded turning red before laughing it off, “I don't know V, I just don't feel that way towards him, yeah he's hot, I'm not blind but there's just no spark there for me.”

“Hmm” Veronica hummed, “Is it possible you're heart is tied up somewhere else?” she probed.

Betty panicked a little wondering if the girl suspected more than she was letting on.

She was debating telling her about FP when her phone chimed. Thankful for the interruption, Betty picked it up, looking at the screen, speak of the devil she thought as she saw FP's name on the text bubble.

She opened up the message, smiling softly as she read it.

'Hey Sunlight, Happy Thanksgiving, how's your weekend going.....I miss you.’

She bit her lip trying to hide her widening grin before replying.

'Hey you, Happy Thanksgiving to you too! My weekend is looking up! Veronica showed up at my door and surprised me tonight, she's staying in Paris until Christmas and I couldn't be more excited!'

'That's great Lizzie, I'm actually surprised you answered right away, isn't it like two am there?'

'Yeah but we got into some wine playing catch up so I actually just crawled into bed'

'Mmmm.....so what are you wearing?' he wrote making Betty blush as she remembered she wasn't alone, Veronica currently watching her in amusement.

She wasn't surprised by his question, they had taken to bantering back and forth flirtatiously for a while now and this was not the first time one or the other had asked that very question trying to get a rise out of the other.

'You first' she sent him back, the buzz from the wine making her bold.

She placed her phone on the bed facedown between them and looked back at Veronica as she waited to see if he'd respond.

“What?” she said when she saw the knowing look on her friends face.

“That's him isn't it?” Veronica asked.

“Who?” Betty said trying to sound aloof.

“Don't play coy with me Betty Cooper, you're talking to FP Jones right now aren't you? I can tell by the ridiculous grin on your face” she said, pointing a finger at her, “Are you still going to lay there and tell me that there's nothing going on between you two?” the raven haired beauty insisted.

“It's nothing V, we're just friends” she said as her phone went off again. Betty reached for it but Veronica was faster, swiping it before Betty could, rolling over so the blonde couldn't take it from her.

“Ronnie, give me back my phone” she sighed.

Veronica looked at the screen and rolled back over arching a brow at her, “Say what you will B, but if there is nothing going on then why did he just send you a half-naked picture of himself?” she asked grinning as she shoved the phone in her face.

“What!” Betty choked snatching her phone from her and looking at the picture on the screen.

Shit she thought as her breath caught in her throat, Veronica wasn't kidding, there on the screen, was a picture of FP taken in front of his bedroom mirror. The way he held the phone had blocked part of his face but you could still see it was him. He was wearing jeans, slung low on his hips with the top button and zipper undone and nothing else. The sight made something coil low in her stomach which she imagined was the effect he was going for.

Veronica saw the lust in her friends eyes as she stared at her phone, she cleared her throat to get her attention.

“Um....” Betty muttered, too flustered to think up an excuse.

“Uh uh girl, there's no getting around that!” she asserted, “Spill.”

There was no way Veronica was going to let this go, so Betty exhaled and relayed the whole story to her. The flirting, the dancing, the make outs, the poorly timed phone call, the no strings conversation and of course the sex. Veronica listened without interrupting, eyes widening as she told the extra juicy parts of the story.

“Wow” she said shaking her head in disbelief when Betty finished, “I knew there was more to it but wow...just wow” she looked at her wide eyed, “Betty Cooper, girl next door, getting down and dirty with an older man, a serpent nonetheless, who'd of thought?” she mused.

“I know it must be a little shocking and seem unconventional” Betty confessed, “But it's....I don't even know how to describe it Ronnie, the connection is so strong, it's like the age doesn't even matter you know.”

“It wasn't really the age thing that I was thinking about Betty, hell, I had a wild weekend with a 40 year old guy in Hawaii, I get the appeal of an older man, but it's more of who he is” Veronica said gently.

“I know, it must be weird to you but it all progressed so naturally that, I don't know” she shrugged, “It has never felt weird to me and before you ask, no I don't feel guilty V, it's been a year and a half since Jug broke my heart and I'll be damned if I'm going to sit around pining for the rest of my life! Yes, the situation seems weird and awkward and I can imagine the shit I will have to deal with if it comes out but honestly I don't care, I'm happy” she insisted.

“And I'm happy for you B, you know that's all I want, as long as they treat you right and you're happy I don't care who it's with, I'll always have your back but I'm a little concerned. What happens if or when Jughead comes back?” she asked.

“I don't know V, I haven't really thought about it, if it happens, I guess I'll deal with it then” she resolved, “Besides, I'm not even sure what this thing is with FP, we never put a label on it and we never agreed not to see other people.

And yes, when I go home I hope to continue to explore this connection between us but it would be hard to develop anything serious with me being abroad most of the time. Plus, for all I know, he could change his mind and that night could end up being all that ever becomes of this.”

“Are you sure you're okay with something so casual? I never pegged you as a friends with benefits sort of girl and I’d hate to see you get hurt” Veronica said with concern, “Do you love him B?”

Betty looked down at her lap as they sat crosslegged facing each other, fiddling with the hem of her pyjama shorts before lifting one shoulder, “I'm not sure V, I care about him...a lot...and being apart from him has made me realize how much I need him in my life but I can’t answer that yet, I know he cares for me too but I don't know to what extent. For right now, I'm content living in the moment and taking things as they come, we'll just have to wait and see where it goes from here” she finished.

Her phone chimed again and she realized that she never answered FP back, “Crap” she said as she read his message.

'Hey, are you there? I didn't scare you off did I LOL'

Veronica looked at her friend in confusion at her outburst, “I forgot to respond to his picture message” Betty explained, “Now he probably thinks that he went too far or something” she said a little worried.

“Too far!” she said incredulously, “Betty that man is FINE! In fact, tell him to take the jeans off and send another one” Veronica wiggled her brows at her only half joking.

Betty's mouth dropped open at her friends brash suggestion, “Omigod V!” she choked, “You're terrible!” she said with a playful shove.

Veronica burst into a fit of giggles as Betty went back to writing her reply.

'No sorry, got sidetracked by V, the complete opposite actually' she wrote and included a winking emoji before sending it.

'And I should probably let you know that Veronica saw the picture and seeing as she would never have let it go, she now knows everything '

'Shit' was all he sent back.

'Sorry, I hope you're not mad that I told her, you can trust that she won't say anything'

'No, it's okay Liz, I'm not mad, just a little worried for you, how did she respond?'

‘You don’t have to worry, V's always got my back, she was actually better than I thought she'd be about it, oh and she says your FINE’ she added including another winking face.

'LOL, well tell her thanks but beautiful blondes with deep green eyes and legs for days are more my thing'

Betty bit her lip holding back her smile at his remark.

Veronica, wanting to see what caused her friends new shade of crimson, swiped her phone again.

“Omigod swoon!” she squealed as she read his last text.

Betty snatched her phone back, sticking her tongue out at her but she couldn't suppress her laugh as Veronica put her hands to her heart and fell back with a dramatic sigh.

'Soooo can I assume that I'm not getting a picture in return tonight' he sent.

'Sorry Jones, I don't think that that would be appropriate behaviour with V in my bed LOL, you'll just have to use your imagination'

'What if my imagination has you wearing nothing at all?'

Betty laughed out loud, 'Well it's your fantasy, don't let me stop you' she wrote, biting her bottom lip between her teeth.

FP responded with a large smiley face which made Betty smile and roll her eyes.

'Good night FP' she sent back.

'Sweet dreams Elizabeth'

Betty put her phone on the night table plugging it in to the charger.

“It looks like he makes you happy B” Veronica said honestly.

“He does” Betty nodded grinning shyly.

“In more ways than one I'm sure” she teased, “So tell me Betty, exactly how good is FP Jones in bed? And don't hold out on the details!”

“Veronica!” Betty coughed which had the sassy Latina laughing again.

“But seriously, how was he?”

***

End Chapter

#riverdale fanfiction #fp jones #betty cooper

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