#Greendale rubber

[lifefcrged]

GREENDALE, MASSACHUSETS. MID 1930 - EARLY 40s's.

@ladiesandwitches / hilda or zelda.

In the guest bedroom of the Spellman house, her singular suitcase with its worn hinges and scraped edges was stored neatly inside the closet. The small collection of hand stitched high waisted skirts, blouses, cardigans and the one pair of slacks of complementary colors were hung neatly in the same closet beside the two bleached and starched nurse's uniforms. One beret and one nurse's hat sat on the top of the closet and one pair of sensible rubber soled white nurse's shoes and one pair of also sensible low heeled slightly dressier shoes were lined neatly on the floor beside the suitcase. A handful of personal mementos and a moderate amount of cash were still tucked into the inside pocket of the suitcase, but her hairbrush and powder and tastefully nude lipstick sat on the dresser next to the single gold necklace with a delicate pearl teardrop and watch.

A meager and modest collection of items that had been chosen to reflect the life that she was supposed to be leading; a young nurse having picked up and left her small town life in search of answers. A quest that had, through a carefully plotted set of twists and turns, led her to this place -- though, she had to admit, she had not anticipated being welcomed (albeit reluctantly) into the house of one of the more prominent families in the coven that she'd been sent to investigate.

While the younger of the sisters had seemed more than happy to be playing hostess, it was clear that the Zelda would be the one that required the most winning over ... though, where magic and preternatural elements came into play, Mikkah was not inclined to let her guard down with any of them. Still, the house was luxurious enough. Dinner had been on the uncomfortable side, but she was a stranger in their home, and some awkwardness was to be expected on all sides. She'd excused herself after, with a cup of coffee, to the front porch where she now was, leaning against the railing, her coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The soft creaking and thump of the screen door pulled her gaze from the setting sun to the woman stepping out, and she offered a hesitant smile. "I just ... wanted to say thank you, again, so much, for allowing me into your home, it's ... I really wasn't expecting anything of the kind."

[sapphiremcguire]

this is a really bad post but I had to do it out because I promised I would make as many inspector spacetime references as possible-

[hottubraccoon]

roygbiv tag game

tagged by @adie-dee :)

Rules: find all 7 colors of the rainbow in your wip(s)

RED

Instead of opening the door again, I peeked out from the grated window on the top half of the door and noticed the red and blue flashes of light in the shared driveway. I couldn’t stop the grin that lit up my face. Stepping back until my back hit the wall, I sighed. Then fell into hysterical giggles for a moment before pulling myself together quickly at the short and sharp knock on my door. When I opened it, still in my clothes from the night before, Jay was standing on the other side. Her peppy, passive-aggressive smiles were gone, her uniform turning her into the trained officer she has always been. I tried not to dismiss any information I had about the spell out of spite and let her do her job.

ORANGE

The couple left the book with me, nodding silently before leaving. I sighed softly and tucked the book away with a softer, although smaller, smile on my face. I quickly checked the greenhouse thermostat and vents before ducking back into the front of the shop. The sun’s rays were just beginning to fade, the sky a gentle mix of orange and pink clouds, so I turned the open sign around to closed on the front door.

YELLOW

none ;-;

GREEN - as the town is called Greendale, and one of the mains, Hannah King, works in a greenhouse, I tried to avoid those and go for a descriptive ‘green’ :)

Diana took a deep breath before starting again gently, “There’s a spark in you.” Her expression dampened the colour of her eyes, turning them an ugly green hue. “That may be why you were targeted, especially because the symbol seems to be treating you like some kind of vessel.” My throat closed up as I nodded along again. I tried taking deep breaths as Diana was but without freezing everything else and appearing distant. My heartbeat loud in my ears but Diana’s voice was clear, precise. “The energy that’s stored inside you right now is slowly moving into the symbol. I haven’t figured out what the goal of it is yet, or when it will activate, or how that will affect you, but, I’m trying.” The far off look in her eyes shook off quickly and she turned away to play with her vans laces.

BLUE

“I will,” I muttered. She nodded decisively and tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the counter. “Maybe, if you win this year, I can forgive you for breaking the rules last night. So we will be doing a purple display: blue vervain, purple wolfsbane, Canada thistle, lavender bell flowers.” I listed off the names on the notepad too and tried to decide what corner I should clear in the greenhouse. I murmured agreement and when I didn’t get a reply I looked up to find her walking away already, bare feet somehow sounding loud on the empty store’s tiles.

INDIGO (purple)

There was a set of stairs immediately to the right of the door and piles of rubbish bags piled against the wall to the left, waiting for the morning. Next to the rubbish was an inside greenhouse with a large lock on the doors. There was an open doorway to the front of the store that was covered by pale purple drapes decorated with sequined flowers. My gaze snapped up like a rubber band breaking.

VIOLET

“Hi Corey. Are you staying long?” Wrong question, wrong question. “He’s a judge for the Greendale Festival.” Mother spoke over Corey’s half-formed words. “He mentioned violets were his favourite and, since you chose violets in our display because you love them so much, I thought you too should meet.” She looked so proud of herself, as though she didn’t dictate exactly how, when, where, and why we chose the display that we did then expected me to do all of the work before it. The poor man laughed awkwardly, shifting on his feet.

RAINBOW

none ;-;

[imreallyloveleee]

prompt: sports star AU for @riverdalebingo

Lungs burning, Betty slows to a stop, the rubber track firm beneath her feet. That one felt...okay. Good enough to beat Greendale in next month’s meet.

But not where she needs to be if she’s going to qualify for the Olympic Trials in February.

She stretches her arms over her head as she retreats to the sidelines for a sip of water, trying (failing) to quell the low grade panic simmering in her breast. It’s been like this for weeks now – good, not great – and it’s not enough. She’s running out of time.

The sun is just beginning to dip below the horizon, and she’s debating whether to make one more go of it before heading home when a voice draws her gaze to the edge of the bleachers: “Betty Cooper.”

“Juggie.” A smile blossoms over her face. “What are you doing here?”

“I was at Archie’s and stopped by your house on the way out.” Jughead steps up onto the lowest bleacher and makes his way towards her, one foot in front of the other. He’s dressed in his usual year-round uniform – jeans, boots, beanie – his only concession to the late summer heat the flannel tied around his waist. “Your mom said you were out training.”

A different sort of heat rises up her neck, making her flush in the evening light. The high school’s not even on the way home for Jughead.

“I think she thought it was weird I was looking for you,” he continues, hopping down to the ground to stand before her. “So I told her I had a question about the summer reading. I think she bought it.”

Ever since she’d realized her youngest daughter had pro athlete potential, Alice Cooper had ensured Betty live her life by a set of rules. Among other things – no burgers, no booze, no B’s on her report card – that meant no boyfriends.

For most of her seventeen years, Betty had been okay with that. She knew that to realize a goal as lofty as reaching the Olympics required just as much mental rigor as physical. But then this summer had happened – her last before graduating high school.

Jughead had happened.

He reaches for her, and she takes a half-step back on instinct. “I’m all sweaty.”

She catches only a glimpse of his smirk before his arms are around her, wrapping her in a full-body hug. He leans back, lifting her up off the ground for a moment before setting her gently on her feet again. “They’re gonna be selling your sweat outside the stadium in Tokyo next year. I’m lucky to get it for free.”

“Ew.” Betty giggles against his shoulder.

“They did that in Ancient Rome,” he tells her, his breath warm against her ear. “I saw it in a museum once.”

“Really?”

“Well, a Ripley’s Believe It Or Not,” he concedes. “But it’s still true.”

Betty turns her head, pressing her ear to his chest. The slow, steady thump of his heart is soothing, so different from her own. She loves to be held like this, to be held by him; to let the constant, buzzing thoughts in her head fade away until there is nothing but the two of them, their bodies, their breath.

(She hasn’t told him. Not yet. But sometimes she wonders if he already knows the way he makes her feel, or if the reason he holds onto her for these long, quiet moments is that somehow her own skittering, staccato heartbeat does the same thing for him.)

Eventually they pull apart, though Jughead takes her hands in his, thumbs sliding over her palms, sending goosebumps up her arms. “You wanna go to Pop’s?”

She’s not supposed to stay out after dark. She’s not supposed to eat greasy diner food. She’s not supposed to want this. Want him.

Betty squeezes his hands.

“Okay.”

[celerylapel]

Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Community (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Characters: Britta Perry, Jeff Winger, Troy Barnes, Shirley Bennett, Pierce Hawthorne, Annie Edison, Abed Nadir, Vaughn Miller Additional Tags: shower, Showers, Steam shower, Soap, humor and tragedy, rubber ducky - Freeform Summary: 
The Greendale Seven has some adventures in the shower.

[spclljar]

Ｓ .ＳＰＥＬＬＭＡＮ ．

writing  prompt . 001 .

she  had  avoided  him  .  ever  since  the  evening  in  his  room  ,  unaware  of  what  she  could  possibly  say  to  take  away  the  hurt  she  had  caused  .  he  had  changed  his  mind  ,  sabrina  hadn't  expected  it  --  not  even  in  the  slightest  .  but  had  she  made  the  right  choice  ?  

the  witch  had  believed  so  ,  up  until  the  night  would  fall  and  the  immense  pain  would  set  in  .  the  ache  of  knowing  she  had  caused  it  ,  that  she  had  been  given  a  second  chance  and  had  chosen  to  go  through  this  .  sometime  evenings  where  she  found  it  the  most  difficult  ,  she  would  pull  on  the  small  pair  of  red  rubber  boots  ,  her  coat  and  flee  out  the  door  before  ambrose  discovered  her  bed  empty  .  it  was  in  these  moments  that  she  would  wish  to  get  lost  but  only  find  herself  around  the  wooded  area  near  the  kinkle  residence  .  sabrina  would  linger  ,  occasionally  coming  from  the  forest  and  then  one  night  had  almost  went  to  the  door  .  her  cheeks  were  dripping  ,  tears  smearing  over  red  wind-burned  cheeks  .  since  then  ,  she  had  refused  herself  the  comfort  of  being  near  --  until  the  witch  had  finally  had  enough  .  

his  number  ,  contact  information  unchanged  ,  glared  up  from  her  screen  --  the  sound  of  ringing  following  .  in  a  way  ,  sabrina  had  thought  he  would  simply  ignore  it  ,  preparing  herself  for  a  voicemail  message  when  a  sleepy  voice  had  answered  .  somehow  ,  in  what  felt  like  the  making  of  a  miracle  ,  she  was  able  to  convince  harvey  to  meet  her  .  just  south  of  greendale  high  .  her  speech  having  been  prepared  the  entire  walk  there  ,  eyes  resting  just  ahead  of  her  ,  calmed  by  the  silence  that  the  evening  seemed  to  bring  .  the  streets  were  only  illuminated  by  streetlamps  ,  and  not  even  a  single  person  had  passed  her  on  her  approach  to  the  wooded  area  .  

donning  the  red  boots  and  coat  ,  a  hopeful  sabrina  had  emerged  into  the  location  that  had  been  given  ,  a  quickened  jog  at  the  very  notice  of  a  flash  of  plaid  .  with  the  crunch  of  laves  at  her  steps  ,  sabrina  had  stopped  just  a  few  feet  short  of  him  ,  hands  pushed  deeply  into  the  pockets  of  her  red  coat  .  not  a  word  was  shared  between  them  yet  ,  but  sabrina  felt  there  was  a  change  in  the  air  between  them  .  harvey  had  showed  up  after all  --  wasn't  that  a  sign  ?

after  being  met  with  easily  the  most  awkward  silence  sabrina  had  ever  experienced  ,  the  blond  had  cleared  her  throat  .  "  harvey  ,  i  made  a  mistake  .  "  there  was  the  admittance  ,  a  heavy  sigh  releasing  the  pressure  on  her  chest  .  "  i  just  felt  that  --  i  don't  know  .  i  had  caused  enough  harm  ,  and  i  knew  you  felt  differently  but  --  bad  luck  seems  to  follow  me  and  it  always  affects  those  who  are  the  closest  to  me  .  "  the  wind  was  sweeping  cold  air  over  them  ,  her  hands  tight  fists  in  her  pockets  ,  air  rustling  the  trees  above  them  .  "  this  isn't  what  i  wanted  but  i  thought  that  i  would  much  rather  know  you  were  safe  than  selfishly  keep  you  knowing  i  could  hurt  you  even  more  .  "  her  voice  is  no  longer  as  strong  as  usual  ,  instead  it  begins  to  shake  ,  quivering  with  emotion  .  "  but  it  hurts  .  so  bad  .  not  having  you  ,  not  being  able  to  see  you  --  everything  hurts  .  "  her  mouth  had  opened  to  speak  again  ,  only  to  shut  rapidly  at  the  sound  of  snapping  twigs  .  blonde  bob  shooting  towards  the  bushes  that  were  now  shaking  violently  ,  fully  believing  it  could  be  some  animal  ,  sabrina  had  stepped  a  bit  closer  to  investigate  .  

instead  ,  she  was  met  with  bloodshot  red  eyes  that  seemed  to  glow  like  fire  and  a  snarl  that  made  every  hair  on  her  head  stand  up  .  had  there  been  any  more  light  on  the  scene  ,  it  would  be  apparent  that  every  ounce  of  blood  had  left  sabrina's  face  ,  leaving  her  a  ghostly  gray  color  as  a  scream  erupted  from  her  lungs  .  it  was  clear  the  animal  in  questions  was  nothing  of  this  world  ,  it's  demonic  presence  sending  a  ripple  of  energy  through  the  air  .  however  ,  it;s  interest  had  locked  onto  the  mortal  of  the  pair  ,  practically  tramping  sabrina  in  order  to  attack  him  .  the  witch  had  gone  into  full  panic  mode  ,  mumbling  every  counter-spell  she  had  researched  ,  anything  zelda  had  stated  in  passing  but  nothing  was  working  and  the  beast  was  now  charging  him  .  sabrina  reached  into  her  bag  ,  pulling  out  items  that  zelda  had  stashed  there  despite  sabrina's  begrudging  plea  that  she  did  not  need  such  items  on  hand  .  the  small  golden  dagger  --  now  soaked  with  a  small  water  bottle  that  was  labled    '  holy  water  '  .  as  quickly  as  she  could  ,  sabrina  gripped  the  hilt  and  slammed  into  harvey  --  knocking  him  entirely  over  as  the  demon  attempted  to  rip  her  off  .  using  her  right  hand  ,  sabrina  lodged  the  dagger  into  it’s  chest  ,  watching  as  the  beast  began  to  dissolve  howling  in  pain  .  with  one  final  lashing  ,  it  bit  into  sabrina's  arm  but  she  refused  to  budge  .  now  ,  a  smoking  heap  of  goo  ,  sabrina  clutching  her  bleeding  arm  close  to  her  chest  ,  her  breathing  heavy  .  

  the  light-headed  feeling  ,  something  she  believed  to  simply  be  shock  ,  had  crashed  down  on  her  ,  her  mind  spinning  as  sabrina  attempted  to  steady  herself  on  the  ground  .  the  wound  was  deep  ,  black  bubbles  burning  as  they  foamed  from  the  gash  .  "  harvey  --  harv  .  "  her  vision  was  clouding  ,  the  pressure  on  her  chest  growing  more  intense  as  the  pain  began  to  sear  throughout  the  rest  of  her  body  .  though  it  was  not  until  there  was  in  ache  in  her  chest  ,  that  sabrina  knew  how  extensive  the  injury  was  .  practically  heaving  as  she  was  lifted  by  one  of  harvey's  arms  ,  sabrina  gazed  upwards  ,  her  ears  ringing  as  she  tried  to  make  out  what  he  could  possibly  be  saying  .  "  listen  --  listen  .  i  love  you  .  i  love  you  .  "  her  body  had  now  gone  numb  ,  eyelids  too  heavy  to  hold  open  any  longer  as  every  limp  now  went  weak  .  the  venom  had  reached  her  heart  --  sabrina  slumped  against  his  chest  ,  eyes  closed  and  peaceful  and  her  heart  stopped  .  

[wolfofansbach]

vignettes from a Riverdale/IT crossover

I saw IT Part 2 the other day and felt compelled to write at least a little bit. 

“Come on, Jughead! You promised!” Jellybean whined.

“Go away,” Jughead whined right back in that equally plaintive, commanding tone specific to twelve year old boys. He threw a pillow over his face.

Jellybean huffed and crossed her arms. She stuck her bottom lip out in that quintessential six year old pout.

“You said you’d come catch lizards with me!”

“I know,” Jughead rolled over in his bed. “But my head hurts.”

Her lip quivered. “But—“

His eyes softened. “Look, just go get started, okay? I’ll come out in a little bit. See how many you can catch without me.”

Her face lit up again.

“‘Kay!” She turned around and bounced out of the trailer. He collapsed back onto the bed and grumbled.

Jellybean raced down the trailer’s steps, and into the muddy, drecky wonderland of Sunnyside Trailer Park in the wake of a brutal northeastern storm. Puddles dotted the driveways and rusty rainwater dripped from pipes and shingles. She could smell the storm. She breathed in deep. She liked this kind of weather. All kinds of little animals came out. Salamanders, toads, worms.

No one much was outside, which was fine by her. She worked best in solitude. Jellybean walked along the rows of trailers, keeping a sharp eye out for any flashes of scaly, slimy movement under boards or along walls. She stopped at a particular wide crack in the sidewalk, a little off to the side, that she knew often contained little critters that preferred dark, damp spaces. She bent down. A light drizzle started up again, plinking off of her parka. Something darted through the dirt. Long and wriggly. A salamander. Her eyes lit up. She shot a hand out. Missed it. Clutched a clump of grass and mud.

“Darn it!”

The salamander disappeared into the grass.

She followed the road a little longer. Jughead always told her not to go more than five trailers away from theirs if she was alone. Her parents didn’t much care. And Jughead would be out, soon, anyways, so it should be okay, she figured.

She almost caught a frog under a long-collapsed telephone pole, but it managed to slip—literally—through her fingers.

Jellybean turned a corner. There was a wide, empty lot at the northern end of Sunnyside. It was paved, but the grass had long since cut up through the splitting concrete, because they’d decided not to ever build anything, there. Jellybean thought that seemed like a waste of a lot of space. She could think of plenty of cool things they could build here.

Ringing the lot were a lot of old, big trees, and past that, Jellybean knew you could walk to Sweetwater River in about ten minutes. She was pretty sure she could hear it now, because it had rained so hard the river was swollen.

Something rushed over her feet. She squeaked. But then she looked again. It was another salamander. A big one, this time. Almost the size of her hand. She rushed after it, rubber boots pounding on the mud and slick cement. “Come here!” she shouted. The salamander paid her no mind. It made for the trees. She picked up speed. The little beast was quite nimble in this rain-soaked world.

It leapt into the tree line. Jellybean said a word that, if she were the child of a different family, might have made her parents angry with her. She slipped into the trees. Jughead would tell her not to go in there.

She already knew she’d lost the salamander. But she didn’t want to admit it to herself yet. Her eyes were getting hot.

Jellybean looked around through the dripping trees for a hint of movement. She saw a bird hop overhead. No salamander.

Her cheeks were burning. She’d been at it about twenty minutes, now, and not a lizard, salamander, or toad to show for it. She felt about ready to cry, but she wouldn’t allow herself to.

“Looking for this little guy?”

Jellybean gasped. She spun around. At first, she thought Jughead had somehow caught up without her noticing. Someone slipped out of the shadow of the trees. But it wasn’t Jughead.

It was a clown.

Jellybean blinked, as if expecting it to disappear in a flash, like the little squiggles in the corner of your eye. He didn’t.

The clown was tall, dressed in a puffy circus suit, with lots of ruffles and frills. He looked like an escapee from the circus. Jellybean had never been to an actual circus. This was certainly no circus. And so it seemed odd that there would be a clown, here.

His face was painted white, flanked by tufts of faded red hair, lips and cheeks decorated artfully with similar crimson paint makeup.

In his hands he held her elusive salamander.

For a moment, Jellybean forgot the awkwardness of the situation and exclaimed: “you found him!”

“I guess I did!” the clown giggled. “Would you like to hold him?”

Her first instinct was to enthusiastically say “yes!” But then she thought about the peculiarity of the situation, again—that she was in the woods right after a thunderstorm talking to a clown who had no business being here. Still—he did seem friendly enough, didn’t he?

“M-my brother tells me not to talk to strangers.”

“Well, it sounds like your brother is a sharp lad, isn’t he? I bet you’re a smart little girl, too, aren’t you?”

Jellybean shrugged. She didn’t want to brag.

“I dunno. Maybe.”

“Where are my manners? I’m Pennywise the Dancing Clown!” he said with a flourish, and Jellybean almost fancied she could hear the tinkling of circus music somewhere off in the distance. “And you are—“

Well, now that he’d introduced himself, it seemed rude not to do the same.

“I’m Jellybean,” she said, meekly.

“Jellybean! Isn’t that a lovely name? I love jellybeans! Don’t you?”

“Well, it’s not my real name. But I don’t really like my real name.”

She figured ‘Pennywise’ probably wasn’t the clown’s real name, either. Maybe he didn’t like his real name.

Pennywise proffered the salamander again.

“Why don’t you take him? You came all the way out here looking for him, didn’t you?”

The poor little thing wiggled madly in his immaculate white-gloved hands.

Jellybean wavered. Maybe Pennywise wasn’t so bad. But maybe he was.

“We—why are you out here in the woods?” Jellybean asked. “In the rain?”

“I like the rain,” he said. “Don’t you? It’s like a big shower! It cools everything down! Cleans everything up.” Pennywise looked down at her. His eyes were deep and weird, almost like he had a lot of eyes pressed down into two. He smiled, wide and sharp. A bit of drool dripped out over his bottom lip.

Since Jellybean didn’t seem interested in taking the salamander, Pennywise ever so slightly opened his hands, and the little creature slipped away into the wood. She hardly noticed.

“I—I should probably go,” she said.

“Before you go—“ Pennywise said, almost desperate. “How about a balloon?” And suddenly, there was a gleaming red balloon in his hand, pulled seemingly from the ether in a wondrous slight of hand. Stenciled across the front were the words ‘I Love Riverdale’, with the ‘love’ artfully instantiated by a heart. Jellybean was a little old for balloons, in her own opinion. But again, it seemed rude to turn down a gift. And it was a pretty balloon.

“M-my broth—“

“Oh, I could give him one, too! Do you think he’d like that? Where is he?”

“H—he’s still in the trailer. He said he’d come outside with me in a little bit.”

“He sounds like a nice boy.” Pennywise held the balloon out further. His smile widened, and Jellybean almost thought she could see his thick white teeth lengthen. But that was silly.

“Jughead’s pretty cool,” Jellybean said. “Don’t tell him I said that, though.”

The balloon danced in the clown’s hand.

“Go on. Take it.”

Jellybean paused. It couldn’t do any harm. If Pennywise had any ill intentions, he would have acted on them by now, right? She reached out, carefully. The clown smiled wider. She closed her little hand around the string of the balloon.

And then Pennywise’s own hand shot out and caught her around the wrist.

“Hey!”

Pennywise smile exploded into a hideous, inhuman maw ringed with rows of jagged fangs. Somewhere in Jellybean’s splintering mind she thought of the sharks on TV, opening their mouths wide to swallow hunks of raw beef. She screamed so loud birds flew from the trees. Pennywise’s radiant eyes split and multiplied. Burning terror flared in her chest.

The thing that had until recently been a clown lunged.

And that was the end.

“My mom left,” Jughead was saying. His voice was cracked and raw. He had no appetite for the tray of stiff cafeteria food in front of him. Betty looked at him with big, sympathetic green eyes. She rubbed his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Juggie.”

“Cause Jellybean—“ his voice broke. He shook his head, and decided he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Betty acceded, and they sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Archie, Veronica, and Kevin came along, obliviously insensitive of Jughead’s pain.

“I’m telling you,” Veronica was insisting. “I did see it.”

“You thought you saw it,” Kevin insisted right back.

“I believe you, Ronnie,” Archie said brightly, always eager to stay in the pretty new girl’s good graces.

Betty lifted her head. Jughead listened up, less than interested.

“Believe her about what?” Jughead asked.

“I saw slenderman,” Veronica said.

Jughead rolled his eyes.

“You saw slenderman?” Betty asked.

“Hand to God.”

“You saw slenderman?” Jughead asked. “Fictional, overplayed creepypasta character slenderman?”

“Yes,” Veronica hissed. “Under the old bridge between here and Greendale. I swear.”

“Okay,” Jughead nodded, not in the mood for argument about something so banal. He thought of Reggie Mantle’s insistence he’d been attacked by mothman on the way to school the week before, and Ethel Muggs swearing up and down her house had just recently become haunted. But considering his little sister was missing, probably dead, Jughead couldn’t really be bothered to care.

The story used to scare the hell out of Veronica when her mother would tell it. La Llorona. A story from old Spanish Mexico. The Weeping Woman, clad in grave clothes, drifting along the banks of the river, searching into eternity for her lost children—the children she herself murdered.

But it was just a story. Scary when she was five, sure. But she was twelve, now. That wasn’t scary anymore. She wasn’t a fucking child.

That’s what she told herself as she ambled down Sweetwater River, towards the Pembrooke, casting regular glances over her shoulder. The last of the sunlight was gone.

And then she heard it. Far away, over the water, rippling in the thin fog.

“Mis hijos! Donde están mis hijos?”

Veronica’s hair actually stood on end. Her skin prickled. She walked faster. Because she was hearing things. It was just some night bird, obviously. Jughead and Betty were wrong. Archie was wrong. Cheryl was wrong. They were wrong about Riverdale being the nexus of some horrible supernatural conspiracy. All the missing children, going back centuries, corroborated by reams of records in the public library was just a coincidence. Had to be. And that clown they claimed was now stalking them—they were just seeing things.

And it came again: “donde estan mis hijos?” The cry of La Llorona

Veronica began to jog. She saw the bridge over Sweetwater River loom up in the distance. There were lights up there. It made her feel better. A little bit. She leaned her head into the breeze and sped up.

Closer, now. Almost in her ear: “Mis hijos!” Veronica whirled around. And there she was. In all her impossible horror. A half-rotted woman’s corpse, flesh tumbling from the grayed jaw, empty sockets gazing off into blankness, a worm-eaten, threadbare white gown hanging from the rattling bones and slithering muscle. The ghost stretched her horrid mouth into a devil grin and loomed closer.

Veronica opened her mouth to say something and could only squeak. She wanted to run and found that her body had ceased to heed her brain’s orders. La Llorona crept nearer, and she could smell the grave on her.

“N-no,” Veronica gasped. “You’re a fucking fairy tal—“

One of the phantom’s bony talons seized her by the throat. She felt her feet leave the ground as the thing yanked her up in the air. She found herself staring into the blank, horrible sockets. There were slashes all around the bone, as if the eyes had been carved out. She gagged. Her chest felt like it might implode. Every nerve in her body burned, blazed, begging her to be free, to run. Her mouth hung open in sheer disbelief. There were no ghosts. No phantoms. And yet here she was.

The ghost’s own jaw dropped, unnaturally low, unhinging like a serpents. The loosened, decaying teeth rattled behind rubbery black lips. Veronica felt the hot tears searing her cheeks. It drew her nearer, like it was going to eat her alive.

And then suddenly there was a flash of rage joining the terror in her chest. The hell with this. She was not going to die to a goddamned campfire story. In that moment, there was no fear, she kicked hard and her foot connected with the ghost’s bony chest. There was a loud hiss, like a serpent uncoiling, and then Veronica fell back to the ground. She blinked, and La Llorona was gone.

She scanned the foaming riverbank desperately, scanned the tree line. The ghost was gone. Veronica leapt to her feet and took off running. The tears had stopped, and now they were drying on her cheeks. So maybe she was a believer now. At the very least, she was going to take Betty’s advice. She was going to ask her mother exactly what had happened twenty-seven years ago in Riverdale.

Veronica raced past the bridge, and then: “oh, Ronnie!”

She spun around. And there he was, sitting on the railing of the bridge, kicking his legs above the whirling water like a little kid. A fucking clown. A full on, honest to God fucking circus clown in white makeup and a frilly suit.

“Stay the hell away from me, Weary Willie,” Veronica hissed.

“Oh,” the clown giggled. “You’ve hurt my feelings. I’ve already met so many of your little friends—I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, too!”

Something shifted in the shadows under the bridge. It slithered out into the moonlight—a balloon. A red balloon. The balloon bobbed briefly in the air, and then floated up overhead, its shadow sliding over the clown, and then clambering up towards the heaven. Veronica watched, uncomprehending. The clown laughed, again. Another balloon drifted from the blackness beneath the bridge. Then another. Then two at once.

Until a steady stream of bright red balloons was pouring out from the murky shadows under the bridge. Veronica shook her head, stomach coiled in terror. She backed away.

“Ronnie!” the clown called. “Come back!” Then it’s plaintive voice dropped a few octaves. “You’ve had such a rough few years haven’t you? Your father gone! All that nasty business with your mother! A new town! How about a balloon?” Veronica turned. She began to run, as well as she could, head light with terror. “I’m sure it’ll cheer you up!” the clown went on. “You see how they float? Come with me, and you’ll float, too! You’ll all float!”

The mad, alien giggling chased her all the way home.

Jughead clapped his hands over his ears. It was no use. The entire house seemed to be lilting on its axis. The old wood groaned underneath him. Pennywise’s laughter filled the hallways, crept into every room, through every door. He heard Veronica scream, somewhere. He wanted to call out for Betty, but couldn’t get his throat to work.

Archie was gripping his shoulder for dear life.

Jughead blinked.

And his mother was there. Standing right there. He knew it wasn’t really her, of course. But it looked just like her.

“Jughead…” Gladys Jones said, softly. “Jughead, it’s alright. I’m right here.”

“No,” he said, biting his lip. “No you aren’t.”

He scrambled backwards. Archie was still clutching his arm, teeth chattering.

“Jughead, it’s me, baby,” Gladys said, sweetly. She held out her arms, and he had a rush of memories. His mother holding him after a bad day of school. His mother fixing him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. His mother making him and Jellybean homemade Halloween costumes. He hiccuped and sniffled.

“Why did you leave?” Jughead asked.

“You know why,” Gladys said, still softly, sweetly. “I left because of you, sweetheart.”

“No—“ Jughead choked, forcing back tears. Archie was shaking, now.

“Because of what you did,” his mother went on. “Because you killed your little sister.”

“I didn’t mean—“

“You should have been with her, Jughead,” Gladys growled. “You should have been watching her. But you weren’t. And now she’s dead because of you.”

He felt like his chest was going to cave in, and his heart was going to pop from the guilt. And then Archie squeezed his shoulder and managed to struggle past his terror and say: “it’s not real Jug. It’s not her.”

That galvanized him, and he looked his ‘mother’ right in the eye and said “you’re not real.”

Jughead blinked, and ‘Gladys’ was gone. Pennywise was back, wild golden eyes sparkling, unnatural shark’s grin gleaming.

“Not real?” Pennywise said, like his feelings were hurt. He lurched closer, dropping his craggy-toothed jaw. “I’m not real enough for you, Jughead? This isn’t real enough?” He paused for a moment and giggled. “It was real enough for Jellybean!”

[serpentnanarose]

Andante, Andante - Sweet Pea x Andrews!Reader

Being Archie Andrews' younger sister was hard. You were only younger by a year, and still everyone treated you like you were a kid. Maybe that's why you started hanging out with the Serpents. To prove that you weren't “Little Andrews” anymore.

When Archie found out you were hanging out on the “wrong side of the tracks,” he was livid. He went as far as telling Jughead to ban you from the Whyte Wyrm. When Jughead told Archie that was out of his hands, he refused to talk to Jughead for a week.

What Archie didn't know was that you were already in too deep with the Serpents. You hadn't joined them, but you had found yourself taking a liking to a certain roughhousing bad boy.

“Quit staring, y/n. He's going to notice one day,” Toni stated from behind the bar, cleaning the glasses before setting them onto the rubber mat placed in front of her.

You blinked at her, “I'm not staring, T. Just watching the pool game.”

“Right, and I'm mayor of Greendale,” she scoffed at you, “We all know how the games end, anyway. That's why we don't watch anymore, unless we're staring.”

From beside you, Jughead laughed. “She's right, you know. He's going to notice one day. You might as well tape a sign to your head declaring your love for him.”

Your eyes widened, “I don't love him, Jug! I'm just infatuated.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Little Andrews.” He chuckled.

You reached up and snatched the beanie from his head, placing it on your head and sliding off of the barstool, attempting to run off before Jughead could snatch it back. You stepped backwards and felt your back collide with something.

“Woah, y/n. Be careful, Cooper might get jealous if she sees you with her man's beanie on your head,” Sweet Pea chuckled from behind you. His low voice sent vibrations through your spine, his hands on your waist to steady you.

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks as you took the beanie from your head and tossed it back to Jughead. You took a deep breath and turned to face the giant holding you in place.

“Be careful, Pea. If my brother finds out your hands were on my waist, you might have a whole football team coming after you.” You shot back, smirking up at him.

“That's nothing new, doll.” He stated, dropping his hands, nonetheless. You went back to the barstool you had previously occupied, taking a sip of the water Toni had jokingly placed in front of you about thirty minutes prior, stating you looked “a little thirsty.”

“Speaking of Betty, she's trying to help Veronica with her whole speakeasy business. She said something about needing security at the grand opening and was wondering if you and Fangs could help out, Sweet Pea?” Jughead stated, looking up from his laptop.

“A whole night of getting paid to manhandle misbehaving Northsiders? I'm in,” Sweet Pea chimed, settling on the barstool on the other side of you. Fangs nodded his agreement from where he was leaning against the bar.

“Okay, now that that's settled. Y/n, Veronica wanted to know if you would provide entertainment for the night.”

You coughed as you tried not to choke on the water you had just taken a sip of. “Me?! What about Josie?” You sputtered, trying not to roll your eyes when you brought up Sweet Pea's ex-girlfriend. You might have been obvious about your crush, but not that obvious.

Jughead shrugged, “I'm just the messenger. It's probably something about you Andrews having music in your blood.”

“Okay, sure,” You laughed softly, recalling the way your father's eyes would light up whenever he spoke about The Fred Heads, how your brother came to you as soon as he learned how to play Veronica's favorite song on his guitar, and how you felt when you sang, how the world disappeared and all your cares floated away with the music of the piano flowing through your ears.

“Wait, y/n sings, too?” Sweet Pea questioned from beside you. “Why haven't we ever heard you?”

Fangs laughed, “We have, dude. You were too caught up in your summer fling to notice, though.”

Sweet Pea huffed, “We don't talk about that. It was a lapse in judgement, especially for me to go after some Northsider.”

Toni's eyes widened slightly, and she flicked her gaze over, meeting yours for a split second, before returning her gaze back to Sweet Pea.

You felt a pang of hurt in your chest, and you stood abruptly from your stool, “Well, would you look at the time! I gotta go, wouldn't want Brother Dearest to send a search party, huh?” You rushed out awkwardly, practically tripping over your feet to gather your things and get to the door.

The next few days were a blur of preparing for the grand opening on Friday night and avoiding Sweet Pea. After his comment about dating Northsiders that night, you had pretty much confirmed your worst fear: he would never like you back.

In second period Friday morning, your phone let out a small ping from inside your backpack. You ignored it until the bell rang, and when you had settled into your seat in the library for your free period, you quickly checked it.

Pea 🐍: u good?

Y/n: yeah, why?

Pea 🐍: haven't heard from you since Mon. Nervous about 2nite?

Y/n: didn't know if you wanted to hear from a Northsider or not.

Your finger hovered over the send button, before you quickly erased it and sent back a quick “yeah.” You sighed, then remembered that you had agreed to meet Veronica in the music room for your free period to discuss lighting and sound for that night.

You bolted out of the library, cursing yourself for forgetting something so important to your brother's girlfriend. You turned the corner and skidded to a halt as you almost ran into Sweet Pea for the second time that week.

“We have got to stop meeting like this, y/n.” He chuckled.

“Yeah,” you mumbled breathlessly, “I gotta go, Pea. See you tonight.”

You started to walk toward the music room, but was stopped by a gentle tugging at your wrist, you turned back around to see Sweet Pea looking at you with concern written all over his face.

“Are you okay, y/n? Have you been working yourself too hard preparing for tonight? I'm worried about you, you missed Wednesday Night Karaoke at the Wyrm. You never miss. You know it's my favorite night of the week. We get to make fun of Fangs as he tries to do a different song from Hamilton each week. There's like forty-something!”

“I'm fine, Pea. Really. I have to go though, Veronica needed to meet me to discuss some things for tonight.” You smiled at him, trying to ignore the feeling of a thousand butterflies in your stomach just from his touch. You hoped the hurt you still felt didn't show through your eyes as you locked your gaze with his, willing him to drop it for now.

He sighed and let you go, “Okay, I'll see you tonight.”

You burst into the music room and Veronica spun around startled, “Jesus, y/n! You look like you saw a ghost and ran a marathon!”

You stood by the door to catch your breath, “Sorry, Ronnie. I completely forgot about our meeting.”

She smiled, “It's fine. So, I know the whole speakeasy concept was a thing during the 20s, but I want to give mine a 70s feel just for tonight, so the fact that you picked a few ABBA songs really fits.”

You shrugged, “What can I say? I'm a sucker for 70s music.”

You ran through the songs you had chosen for Veronica, discussed how you thought the lighting on stage should be and then set a time for you to be at Pop's for sound check.

As the day went on, you grew more and more nervous. You had never performed for so many people before, besides the fun little “show” you put on for a few of the guests at Cheryl and Toni's pool party before school started back.

When school let out, you went home and you changed into your most 70s-esque outfit. A white crop top, and orange maxi skirt and some sandals. You styled your hair into messy beach waves and applied some light makeup.

You took a deep breath and left your house, thanking your dad as he called out a “Good luck!” from inside the garage.

When you arrived, you were astonished at how well-decorated everything was. You congratulated Veronica and gave her a hug before hopping on stage for your sound check. Everything went smoothly and you felt the nerves in your stomach unbundle slightly as you ran through a few bars of each number in your set.

[honeykngdom]

This may seem like a weird one. HC involving a relationship based on annoying Sweet Pea with stupid vine trends your hooked on! I feel like this would be really funny.

I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD IM GONNA PUNCH YOU:

Or nah? 

You started doing it comedically because it was funny - at some point it started to get annoying and irritating to literally every human being on the planet. Including Sweet Pea. The Spring Formal was coming up, meaning everyone was pairing up in couples of two; your way of asking Sweet Pea if he had found a date yet was by asking “You got a bae .. or nah?” 

He walked away from you, his annoyed expression the highlight of your entire day. 

Do it for the vine

Sweet Pea, being typical Sweet Pea, had encountered his fair share of physical interactions with the students of Southside High. They had all had the unfortunate opportunity of meeting his favoured set of brass knuckles. On this particular day, the lead up to the actual confrontation had given you the perfect set up to record. Just as he was pulling out his knuckles, you screamed “YES, PEA, DO IT FOR THE VINE!”

Pea stopped what he was doing to glare at you. 

“Dude, shut up -”

He was knocked on his ass. 

Smack cam

This was a trend Pea had threatened you with before you had even bothered trying to pull it on him (mainly because his face was simply too far up to comfortably reach). His demand that you not bother trying is what gave you the inspiration. 

You rounded up a rather sizeable group of Serpents to partake in the event. 

Throughout the day, random members would scream SMACK CAM, a loud slap and then heard Sweet Pea’s fit of rage. All those who were within reach were subsequently pummelled into a pulp. 

This went on longer than you had anticipated. 

Tall Boy had even went has far as to hit SP with a handful of whipped cream. 

Pea has a thing about his hair - he was pretty livid abou that one.  

Look at all those chickens

He hadn’t even known this was a thing; the pair of you had gone into Greendale to pick up some odds and ends you couldn’t find in Riverdale. You had dragged him into the toys department, happily stumbling upon the basket of rubber chickens on display. 

“Hey Sweets, wanna hear something annoying?” “Aren’t I already?”

You put as much weight as you could down onto the barrel, releasing and cackling in pure amusement as horror struck across SP’s face and he turned away from you. 

You brought one home. 

And snuck up behind him to scare the shit out of him - while he was brushing his teeth, while he was eating, doing dishes, doing homework, trying to nap, etc. 

“What’s 9+10?”

This one spoke for itself. 

Most younger-gen serpents were on board with it, meaning you all joked about it often. 

In moments where Sweet Pea would say/do something the majority found stupid and reckless, you’d walk up to him and go, “Hey Pea, what’s 9 + 10?” 

He would only ever glare, and then walk away.

Nae Nae

It was one of those songs everyone seemed to be playing. He was only ever embarrassed or annoyed because you didn’t know how to sit your ass down when it came on. 

You had to dance. 

Every.

Single. 

Time. 

Wop 

Another one of those songs everyone was also playing all the time. Sweet Pea typically watched from whatever corner he had put himself into while you and others danced (stupidly) to the song while you did domestic everyday things

Like cleaning

And cooking

But one day you came home and put on a bunny onesie and decided to hop around and provocatively dance to the song. 

He only smiled a little

He still rolled his eyes though.

“What are those?!”

Pretty self explanatory

Although, Sweet Pea laughed a little too hard when you screamed it at Tall Boy when he came out of his trailer one morning wearing pink fluffy slippers.

“My name is Jeff” 

You were sitting in the trailer, hanging out and watching movies. Miraculously, Shrek 2 had started playing. During the scene where the family is arguing at the table, and everyone starts calling each others name, you decided to go off in your own direction .. 

“Harold.” “Shrek!” “Fiona.” “Fiona!” “Mom.” “Harold!” “MY NAME IS JEFF.”

DAMN DANIEL

“Back at it again with the white vans!” “THIS DOESN’T EVEN WORK FOR ME I WEAR ALL BLACK FUCK OFF.”

[communitytm]

ACCEPTED ! annasophia robb & jonny beauchamp are now taken.  see you in class, poppy rhodes & frenchie santiago ! please submit your account within 24 hours or your role(s) will be reopened.

(  ANNASOPHIA ROBB. 22. FEMALE + SHE/HER.  )   do you have any classes with POPPY RHODES? i heard they were born on JUNE 13TH which makes them a CANCER: i wonder if ending up at greendale studying JOURNALISM even though they’re a RECEPTIONIST in their horoscope. i caught them in the bathroom last week humming TEEN IDLE BY MARINA, which i wouldn’t have expected from them, but i guess they do kind of remind me of, UNPAID CREDIT CARD STATEMENTS PILING UP ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER, SECOND PLACE PAGEANT TROPHIES COLLECTING DUST ON A SHELF, & A CHEWED UP RUBBER POLLY POCKET SHIRT so it checks out.  (  kat. she/her. 22. cst. )

(  JONNY BEAUCHAMP. 27. MALE + HE/HIM.  )   do you have any classes with FERNANDO “FRENCHIE” SANTIAGO? i heard they were born on FEBRUARY 12TH which makes them an AQUARIUS: i wonder if ending up at greendale studying FASHION DESIGN even though they’re a BAR BACK / GOGO BOY in their horoscope. i caught them in the bathroom last week humming REBEL, REBEL by DAVID BOWIE, which i wouldn’t have expected from them, but i guess they do kind of remind me of STUBBORN GLITTER REMNANTS FROM WEEKS PRIOR, METICULOUSLY CURATED PLAYLISTS, RANDOM MID-DAY WARDROBE CHANGES so it checks out.  (  kat. she/her. 22. cst. )

[catty-words]

(isn’t it a pity) you won’t kiss these rotten lips

summary: The study group gets together on the weekend to clean up the black mold. Set after Intro to Political Science Word Count: 2,300 Author's Note: A major thanks to @bethanyactually for keeping this one-shot IC. Her attention to detail saves my writing time and time again. This ends waaaaaaay canon-divergent. So. Please do yourselves a favor and imagine the happiest outcome you can when you get to the end.

(ao3)

~~~

“I still don’t understand why we had to come here on a weekend,” Britta whines. “Some of us have places to be and things to do.”

“You can complain anywhere, so we’re clearly not keeping you from anything,” Jeff says.

She sticks her tongue out at him.

“And some of us have people to do,” Pierce says. When no one acknowledges him, he adds, “‘Some people’ being me.”

Shaking his head, Jeff turns to accept a stack of five-gallon buckets from Annie, who offers him an appreciative smile.

He can’t help but give her one in return.

“Black mold sounds cool, like something that gives you a superpower that seems like it’d be fun on the surface but actually takes a lot of discipline to control,” Troy says thoughtfully. “Do you think one of us is likely to mutate?”

“As much as I’d like that,” Abed says, “one of us is more likely to die from inhaling black mold spores.”

“Oh.” Troy’s face falls.

“No one’s dying,” Annie says, narrowing her eyes at Abed as she tears open a packet of face masks. “I came prepared.”

“Of course you did.” Jeff smirks at her. She smacks him lightly on the arm, but that only makes his smile grow more pronounced.

When he notices Britta noticing the exchange, though, he immediately sobers up.

Annie is oblivious to the sudden tension. Everyone is, really, but the secrecy that once made Jeff’s tryst with Britta fun has been starting to irritate him. He hasn’t been able to put his finger on why that is, and it’s bugging him.

“I figured we’d split up into pairs,” Annie says as she passes masks to everyone. “Shirley couldn’t get anyone to watch her kids, so we have an even number.”

“Oh, sure,” Britta grumbles, “Mother Hen gets out of weekend volunteering.”

Annie shoots her a reproachful look. “We’ll be done by two o’clock, Sour Face.”

Britta scowls.

“I’ve split the mold-infested areas into problem sections.” She pulls out a map of the building and everyone crowds in around her. Jeff smirks when he notices she’s color-coded it and everything. “Troy and Abed, you guys’ll take the men’s bathroom. There’s a leaky faucet in there that should keep you guys occupied. And Britta, you’re with Pierce outside. There’s a bunch of mold on the building exterior, and somebody’s gotta make sure he isn’t picking at the hole in his cheek. I don’t want it getting infected.”

Britta groans but, surprisingly, doesn’t pitch a fit.

“I’m not a child, you know,” Pierce says, glaring at Annie while scratching at the irritated skin near the bandage.

She shakes her head at him before returning her attention to the map. “Jeff and I will be inside on the East Stairwell, where the mold is the worst. Everyone will have a bucket, gloves, sponges, and industrial-strength mold remover—which is a dangerous chemical, so be careful. You start by rinsing the area with soapy water and sponging off the top layer of mold. Everything underneath we can scrub off with the mold remover. Please, and I can’t stress this enough, keep your masks on at all times. Any questions?”

“Yeah,” Jeff says, “Can we make a pact that if any of us die trying to clean up Greendale’s mess, the others will sue the school for everything it’s worth?”

“Oh, so you mean nothing,” Britta says, and then laughs at her own joke.

Jeff rolls his eyes.

“This is serious, you guys.” Annie points a stern finger at both of them. “If we adhere to the safety guidelines I emailed everyone last night, everything will be fine. Okay?”

The group choruses their agreement.

“Good. Then let’s get to work.”

After stopping by the bathroom to fill their buckets with soap and water, they break into their assigned partners. As Jeff lugs the heavy bucket up the stairs to the top floor landing, he notices that the walls are caked with black fuzz. A shiver runs down his spine.

“Is it too late to set the place on fire and call it a day?”

Annie’s face is covered with her mask, but he can still tell that she’s smiling from the sparkle in her eyes. “Thanks for agreeing to do this. I think it’s going to be better for the school than any student-body president would have.”

A warmth permeates his chest and, god, Jeff hopes he’s not already dying from mold spore inhalation. “Well, you know,” he says, setting down the bucket. “No matter what you’re told…”

“Shut up,” she says with a laugh.

They start working in comfortable silence, scrubbing at two different sections of the wall but standing close enough to bump elbows frequently. Every time they touch, Jeff feels his stomach jump in anticipation. It’s ridiculous and he feels like some dumb high-schooler, but that doesn’t stop him from purposefully moving into her personal space a couple times.

Before they’ve made much headway against the mold, the water in their bucket turns a murky brown.

“We should change this,” Annie says, frowning at the opaque surface of the water as she wrings out her sponge.

“You’re the boss,” Jeff says, adjusting his rubber gloves before hoisting the bucket off the ground. “Lead the way.”

He follows her to the parking lot, where she gestures to a sewage drain and shrugs. “I’m not sure how safe it is, but this is what the dean wanted.”

He frowns. “Maybe we should have held a fundraiser and paid some professionals to take care of this problem.”

She slides her facemask down so it hangs loosely around her neck as he dumps the dirty water into the drain. “It’s not too late for that.”

Jeff hums in agreement.

A slimy residue remains even after the water’s been dumped, so Annie leads them around the back of the building where there’s a spigot built into the wall.

“Looks like Pierce and Britta have already taken a break,” he observes as he peels off his gloves.

She frowns, struggling to turn the handle. “Wonder how long they spent working.”

“It’s anybody’s guess, really,” he says, checking his phone. There’s actually a text from Britta, but he doesn’t bother opening it, instead opting to check his Twitter app.

When Annie finally gets the water to turn on, she gives it too much pressure, and it splashes everywhere, spraying Jeff with ice cold water and soaking the front of her overalls.

“Jeeze, Annie! Watch that thing. These are the shittiest jeans I own, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t expensive.”

She gapes at him, then looks pointedly at the large damp spot blooming across her chest. His gaze follows hers, and then it takes a healthy dose of willpower not to keep staring.

“Are you being serious right now?” she asks, narrowing her eyes dangerously and glancing over at the still-gushing stream of water.

Jeff pockets his phone and starts backing up slowly, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Wait, okay, let’s think this through. We have a lot of work ahead of us today, and—”

She cuts him off by placing her thumb over the spigot and sending streams of water spraying in every direction.

After standing stock-still for a second, Jeff licks his lips, blinks droplets of water out of his eyes, and throws his gloves and mask on the ground.

“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that,” he says, with as much menace as he can muster while feeling like a wet dog.

With a shriek, Annie takes off running in the direction of the quad. She’s fast, but his legs are longer. He gains ground quickly, tackling her into the grass.

For a moment, she continues to put up a fight, trying to crawl out from under him, but they’re both winded and laughing and soon she settles for twisting around so she’s facing him. He plants his hands on either side of her shoulders, hovering over her just high enough that he won’t squish her but low enough that they’re still touching.

“Sorry,” she says, clearly not sorry. But she grins mischievously and pushes her fingers through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, making it stand up in spikes, and Jeff can’t really bring himself to care. “I couldn’t help myself.”

His eyes dart down to her lips then back to her eyes, and Annie’s breath catches in her throat.

“That makes two of us,” he says, his voice low.

They stay suspended in that moment for a few seconds longer, Annie holding her breath and Jeff fighting with himself about what to do. Finally, he clears his throat and pushes off her, plopping into a seated position on the grass.

Annie sits up, too, and he tries not to notice how disappointed she looks.

“We should go back,” he says, plucking a piece of grass and avoiding her pleading look.

“Or we could…not,” she suggests, her voice gaining confidence when she hits the last word. Before Jeff’s heart even has the chance to leap all the way up into his throat, she’s pounced on him, lips finding his as easily as if they’re magnetized.

He wastes no time wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into a more comfortable position in his lap as she grabs his face in both hands and unleashes nearly a full year’s worth of pent-up tension between them.

Initially it’s fun, and Jeff thinks—not for the first time—that kissing Annie reminds him of delivering a well-crafted speech or commanding the courtroom. It’s an adrenaline rush like nothing else he’s ever felt and he’s carried away by the smooth motion of it, like she’s the moon directing the tides within him.

But then his phone buzzes in his pocket and he’s reminded of his unanswered text from Britta. Just like that, the moon tumbles out of the sky.

It takes Annie a second to realize he’s stopped responding to her, but when she does, she pulls away immediately. Her eyes search his face, and Jeff tries to hastily put some barriers back in place, which is easier said than done when her eyebrows are furrowed with concern and her kiss-swollen lips are pouting ever-so-slightly in disappointment.

“Did I…was it bad?” she asks, sliding off his lap and putting some distance between them.

He resists the urge to touch his lips, as if he could keep the feeling of Annie there a little longer. Instead, he clears his throat and gives her a disbelieving look. “Are you serious?”

When she ducks her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, he inwardly sighs in relief, thinking he’s successfully sidestepped having to give an explanation for his behavior.

But then she asks, “So if it wasn’t bad, what’s the problem?”

He frowns and meets her gaze, allowing her to ground him in this moment with the depth of her vulnerability.

Suddenly, the answer to it all is right there on the tip of his tongue, like some exasperated part of his brain is finally speaking loud enough to get through. And it’s saying, Well, Annie, the problem is that I’ve been screwing around with Britta all year, and, even though I’ve known there was something missing in that relationship from the start, I had myself convinced that what we had going was all I wanted. The problem is, I think I want something more from you than I should ever be allowed to have. The problem is, you keep giving me chance after chance to take what I want, but I can’t let myself do that, and I keep hurting you and I don’t know if that’s ever going to stop.

Out loud, he says, “I don’t want us to be caught slacking on the job. What would the others say?”

She frowns, clearly considering whether she’s going to accept his answer or probe further.

“You know you’d never hear the end of it, not after you included that section in your email about time management. I’m really just looking out for you.” He flashes her his most winning smile, trying to conceal his panic.

She studies him for a second, eyes sparking with curiosity, then smiles. He feels like she’s reading the discomfort in his every movement but is choosing to let it go without comment. “You’re right. It’s not very fair of me to slack off, especially since I plan on yelling at Britta and Pierce if they’re not back at their station.”

His mouth feels too dry, so he nods instead of responding.

Annie seems totally at ease as they walk back to the East Stairwell, but Jeff knows they haven’t put this incident completely behind them. The next time she brings it up, though, he’s going to be ready…he’s going to be honest.

He pulls out his phone and opens the texts from Britta. Without reading what she’s said, he types: hey, can we get together tonight? i think we need to talk.

[krogerconews]

Bishop Lifting Acquires <b>Safeway</b> Sling USA

Bishop Lifting Products, Houston, TX, has acquired Safeway Sling, USA, a sling fabrication company based in Greendale, WI. Bishop Lifting Products and industrial rubber products distributor Singer Equities are wholly owned subsidiaries of SBP Holdings. The combined entity has 61 locations in North ... from Google Alert - safeway | publix | albertson's https://ift.tt/2IpRu88 via IFTTT

[timelessautosales]

1977 Chevrolet G-20 Panel Van (NC) - $7,000 Exterior: Carolina Blue Interior: Blue Transmission: Automatic Engine: V-8 5.7L Mileage: 80,000 If you are looking for a really HIP VAN, Look no further. You won't find another one like it! Relive your younger days inside this Vintage Van. With all new interior. Shag carpet, padded walls, and reupholstered seats to match the cushion bed in the back. Has 120V 30AMP RV plug installed in rear, with main breaker box, 2 duplex plugs with USB ports installed inside the van. You can plug in at any campground and have electricity! 12Volt also available under the dash. Has cabinets for all you stuff, and is ready to roll !!!! Has a strong motor. (5.7L 350HP 125" wheel base) A real head turner cruising down the Highway! You will be amazed at the smooth ride, and easy handling. Power steering, Power Breaks, Cold AC, and heater works too. I stripped down interior to bare metal. Including panels, walls, ceiling, doors, cabinets, and rear bed. Installed FAT MATT (sound dampening foiled covered tar) throughout the van. From under dash to ceiling, walls, and doors. (See pictures below). Spent over $15K restoring the interior and all safety related issues underneath. Replaced front disc brake system from master cylinder to break lines and calipers pads , rotors etc. . .Engine has been tuned up, carb replaced, New High power battery. New rubber all around doors and windows. See more below. Replaced/Rebuilt: Drive shaft center bearings, bushings Engine drive belts Horn, interior and exterior lighting Both front door regulators, windows, vent window assemblies, door handles, channel runs Rear fuel hose Both front end upper and lower control arms with bushings, ball joints rear axle seal, rebuilt wheel cylinder and differential gasket Throttle cable, throttle spring Removed steering wheel, reshaped inner contours where horn button is secured and got horn to work easier SERIOUS BUYERS ONLY!! This vehicle is located in Greendale NC 27834 Please call Laura @ 252-367-5678 to see this Van.