#chason

steven harrington & jonathan byers & edward munson

chance perez & jason carver

maxine hargrove & lucian sinclair

william byers & richard tozier

michelle wheeler & eleanor-jane byers

Um??? Thank you for this never apologize for sending me prompts?? I’m just sorry this isn’t better and that it’s unedited???

*

“Chaaaaaaase,” Mason whines from the bedroom, voice muffled by all the blankets he’s cocooned himself in. He’s been in bed for the last day and a half, absolutely taken out by the worst cold of his life. He’s been asleep for the better part of the day, only waking up when Chase nudges him awake and attempts to try and coax him into eating something.

Chase has been working on lesson plans in the kitchen for the last couple of hours, and he’s more than grateful that Mason is awake, because he’s sick of staring at his computer screen.

“Good evening, sleeping beauty,” Chase says, smiling softly at him as he walks into their room. He sits on the edge of the bed next to Mason, and strokes his cheek, “how are you feeling?”

“I cand’t tell,” he sniffles, voice stuffy and hoarse beyond belief. His hair is matted down on one side, sticking up on the other, and he looks bleary and tired and just over everything.

“You’re feeling pretty warm,” Chase frowns, putting the back of his hand on Mason’s forehead, “I think you’re running a fever.”

Mason groans, sniffling as he rubs his face on the comforter, “I’mb kinda achy.”

Chase frowns, “that’s the fever, probably.”

Mason’s breath hitches, and he turns his head to the side to let a flurry of itchy, congested sneezes into the blankets,

“Can you just,” Mason mumbles, making grabby hands at him, “lie downd with mbe? I wandt to cuddle.”

“You look like you’re about to fall back asleep.”

“Ndo…I’mb exhausted, but I dond’t think I cand sleep andy mbore.”

“Want to put on a movie?”

“I dond’t kndow if I cand focus ond a mbovie.”

“Then how about we watch a show? The Office? Brooklyn Nine Nine? You’ve seen both of those a bunch, they won’t take too much focus.”

“That works,” he mumbles, coughing when his breath catches, “you cand pick, I dond’t care which onde.”

“How about you go take a shower, and change into some clean clothes? You’ll feel so much better. I’ll get you some medicine and tea and maybe a popsicle for your throat, and then we can watch something, how’s that sound?”

“Good, except for mbe getti’gg up.”

“It’ll help you feel better…and it’ll probably feel really nice on your muscles. Want a bath instead? I can go draw you one.”

“Ndo…shower is quicker.”

Mason manages to talk himself into getting up, because as much as he’d love to keep laying there, he feels gross, and his back is starting to ache from being in the same general position for so long. He drags himself into the shower, and after a couple minutes of standing, he realizes he’s too lightheaded and dizzy and tired to keep doing so.

Chase brings the tea and popsicle into the bedroom a little while later. He feels a twinge of concern when Mason isn’t out, because Mason takes notoriously quick showers, and it’s been almost ten minutes.

“Mason?” Chase says, walking into the bathroom, “are you alright?”

Mason is sitting down, back against the wall with his knees drawn to his chest. His face is buried in the top of them, arms wrapped around his legs as he shivers.

“Sorry,” he mumbles when Chase shuts off the water.

“What’s wrong?”

“Jus’got a lil dizzy.”

“Are you okay to stand?”

“I’mb ndot sure…I feel like hell.”

“I know. Let’s get you out and dressed, yeah?

Mason nods slowly, trying to blink away the black spots that had gathered in his peripherals.

“I nbeed help,” he says weakly, a shiver running down his spine.

Chase very carefully helps him stand, ready to catch him if he slips on the wet tub, and then once Mason is standing and is out of the tub, he grabs a towel from under the sink and wraps it around him.

Mason aims a sneeze into his shoulder, which leaves him sniffling and coughing for the next couple of minutes, and Chase wraps him up in a hug.

“I’m so sorry you feel so awful, honey,” Chase sighs.

“Mbe too,” Mason groans, nuzzling his face into Chase’s chest. “Cand we skip the show? I just wandt to sleep.”

“Of course, sweetheart, anything you need.”

Mason coughs weakly, slumping even more into him, “thank you for taki’gg care of mbe. I love you.”

“Of course I’m going to take care of you, Mase,” Chase murmurs into his ear, “ready to go get dressed and then get some more sleep?”

EXHIBIT B) Charity’s storyline right now is clearly ripe to have the police involved at some point down the line

EXHBIT C) Neil Roberts doesn’t have a job

If the Riverdale fandom were a nation-state and ships the parties of its parliament.

Try to figure out what’s what for a little fun before scrolling down.

This is based on the number of fics for each tag on Archive of our Own. I’m aware it’s super imprecise considering the massive overlap, but the fact that I wasted a half-hour on this is sad enough without getting any more rigorous.

I just plugged in the most popular ships first, and for the rare ships more or less just entered the first ones to come to mind until I ran out of seats (assuming 600). So if I forgot a ship (let me know if a popular one somehow slipped my mind) that’s just due to the random selection process from Joavin onwards.  

From left to right:

Blue: Bughead (274 seats)

Grey: Varchie (40 seats)

Yellow: Beronica (104 seats)

Purple: Cheronica (25 seats)

Dark Blue: Jarchie (90 seats)

Green: Joavin (27 seats)

Sky Blue: Vughead (9 seats)

Pink: Chetty (9 seats)

Light Purple: Snakeparents (7 seats)

Red: Chason (5 seats)

Black: FP-Fred (5 seats)

Orange: Peryl (1 seat)

I actually expected Bughead to have a large majority, making this one of those dictatorships where the ruling party allows smaller, powerless parties to exist only to preserve the illusion of pluralism.

In fact it only has a very large plurality, making this instead a functioning, if unstable, liberal democracy.