#anywho i am going to attempt to write out all of this text out girl help

[realjem-art]

really thinkin 'bout redesigning my [sunset/sunrise] sona design, since it was my earliest variant, as well as just needing a redesign anyways imo

still dont exactly know what i want to do but this is at least a good step somewhere!

(plain text of all the notes underneath the cut cause they might be hard to read)

From top left to bottom right:

White boa vs og pink to match wings

Pastel, "dreamy" hair? I don't really think it fits, but I'm out of ideas atm

I like the big, radiant halo [maybe add more color]

Still unsure how to style the hair as well

Sunset/Sunrise Redesign Concept[s] (Still needs better name)

New makeup?? unsure

Still unsure on earrings

But I like the new necklace

I fw the star pattern top

YES to the much simpler wings

old vers.

Bigger body type! [goes for all of my sonas] (face for funnies)

Too lazy

Middle piece kinda neat, unsure

Kinda fw these

Gloves? thinner bracelet halo things?

TOO OVERBOARD! needs to be smoother

Thin + translucent. Same pattern as dress? might remove entirely tbh

Too lazy x2

Might need to change the gradient/pattern tbh... idk

Ehh... no real ideas yet [esp. with the shoes]

[honney-boy]

Wonder (Prologue)

Rudy Pankow x Oc!Reader

Wonder Series Masterlist | Wonder Playlist

Short series summary:  Rudy never thought that the one app he uses the least would turn out to the app where he meets the most down to earth and a fantastic person. What first started out as conversations over text turn into a full-blown out road trip where they get to know each other. What was supposed to be a simple trip between two strangers turned into a simple trip with two friends…then it got complicated.

Full Summary and Story Concept

Warning(s): language, shenanigans 

Words: 989

A/N: Okay, okay, this is my first attempt at a Rudy fic. My first series too! But if this flops, let's pretend it never happened, okay? :) But If you guys want to read more, please do let me know. Your love and support is the encouragement I need. Plus, others on the site write a 1000 times better so I don't expect to be praised for this. Like seriously, I got the concept from tik tok haha. Fair warning, I am handwriting out chapters with a pen and paper before converting it digitally, so updates with be spread out. THERE WILL BE GRAMMAR MISTAKES! I'm human, and Tumblr is my test run for this series. Anywho, hope you enjoy :) (these notes will be shorter in the future)

taglist

Zero | “It’s A Dating App At This Point”

“Excuse my french, but you’re being a douchebaguette.”

A controlled laugh - snicker echoed through the dimly lit room. The snicker was short until all you heard was the deep intake of breath before it was no longer a snicker but a hidden smile behind a blanket. The only source of light was coming from the tv mounted to the wall and a phone. Nevaeh was aimlessly scrolling through videos. Those videos' sound was muted because her focus was supposed to be on the television watching the show her roommate put on for them. The two of them ordered in - Nevaeh ordering the food after getting into her pajamas, and Birdie was deciding on the show. They agreed on Brooklyn Nine-nine; it was a Hulu type of night instead of the usual Disney+. 

Ping!

Nevaeh's phone chimed once, not surprising her, but then it sounded three more times in a row after that. The inbox tab lit up with numbers. Clicking on her activity feed, spam of likes rolled in like a soccer ball on the field. The noise pulled her roommate's attention next to her; Birdie squinted her eyes and sent her friend a glare.

"You're not even paying attention. I knew it after you didn't laugh at Peralta's tomfoolery; you always laugh at that," she says, but Nevaeh didn't pay her any mind. "Vae, hello. Are you even listening?" Birdie gave Nevaeh's shoulder a push - nothing too hard, just enough to grab her attention.

“Huh? Shoot, sorry, I’m paying attention now,” Nevaeh flicked the button on the side of her phone, silencing it, then clicked the power button and turned toward the tv. Birdie, who tended to be techy, didn’t make a move to unpause to the screen. Her friend noticed and faced her friend-raising an eyebrow at Birdie’s reluctance. “Are you going to unpause it?”

Huffing, the blonde turned her body and unpaused the tv like nothing happened. Nevaeh shook her head and let her attention become encased with the comedy series. Her phone screen lit up, and looking down at her lap, sure enough, it was Tik tok again.

Someone liked your video!

Someone commented on your video! 

She read the notifications to herself, tempted to check the app but didn't budge.

rudeth started following you!

"Who's that?" Nevaeh jerked with the sudden sound of Birdie's voice next to her. When she looked over to her side, the blonde shrugged her shoulders and leaned over more. "What? Your phone kept lighting up, so I wanted to know what had your attention. Thought it was some boy that was blowing your phone up."

"Well, it's creepy when you're quiet about your snooping - then the hovering over the shoulder thing." The brown-haired girl shakes her head and grimaces.

Birdie cackles, "Get over it, that's the point of snooping, to be quiet about it," She got up from her spot on the couch, taking her blanket she had across her lap and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I'm your personal stalker, you know this."

"I do; how could I forget about my own peeping tom?" Birdie carried herself into the kitchen. She laughed again; her laugh grew quieter the further she walked into the kitchen. Nevaeh took the opportunity to check her phone to check out who spammed her with likes and comments. Birdie was making a lot of noise as she moved about in the kitchen. Her friend wasn't too far off with Nevaeh's phone. There were a few likes and comments from different individuals when looking through her feed, but the spam was from one person. She didn't know who he was. His profile picture was warped - that didn't help. His profile consisted of only one video, it wouldn't load on her phone, and there wasn't anything in the bio. So, this stranger was a stranger, but she had the odd urge to follow him; out of curiosity.

“Who was the mystery spammer?” her roommate called out and asked from the doorway of the kitchen before walking back to get comfortable on the couch.

“Some random guy,”

“Well, why’d you follow him?” Birdie spoke over her shoulder, spooking the girl again.

“I don’t know,” she breathed, which was sort of right. She was curious but didn’t know. She did it to be nice but didn’t know. She wan-

You have a new message!

“Oh my god, did that weirdo message you?” At this point, Birdie climbed over the couch and scooted close to Nevaeh. It almost made her laugh, but she just smiled.

“We don’t know if he is a weirdo yet…”

“Well, he followed you, then sent a message right after you followed back - “

“That isn’t weird,”

“He followed your Instagram and is probably spamming you there.”

“Maybe he wants a friend.” Nevaeh offered, trying to stick up for the stranger. Maybe it was a little weird, but Nevaeh would do something like that. She’s the type that would tell a girl how beautiful she was, even if she didn’t know her. Or ask complete strangers if they might want to be a part of a project she’s working on. Quite honestly, the woman hates strangers; it can get real awkward fast, but she’s working on being more affable. Easy to talk to if need be.

“Maybe he wants your attention,”

“Nevaeh gasped as her mind came to a conclusion, one Birdie wanted to know; her eyes snapped up to Nevaeh as she also looked at her. “Maybe he’s flirting.” Birdie rolled her eyes.

"It's a dating app at this point - well, open the damn message so we can find out." So she did. She went to her inbox, what the stranger's said appeared at the top. She could only make out a little of what the message said, but it was too long to not read without clicking the conversation window.

rudeth: Hey! One of your videos popped up on my fyp and I think...

➣ End Note:

So, I think you guys will love the Nevaeh and Birdie friendship duo. But look at that theres a little of Rudy this chapter and Birdie calling him a weirdo :P Wonder if she’ll call him that to his face.

AGAIN IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE THE SERIES I WILL, JUST LET ME KNOW.

Wonder Taglist:

No one so far but tags are always open!

[iridescentanachronism]

calum + a coffeeshop run-in

Hello folks! I am back again to wreck havoc (by wreck havoc i mean write a mediocre at best + way too long oneshot LOL) so I hope no one minds! I am in love with Calum Hood so idk i thought i’d write this cute fluffy piece! This is an OC I might use her again, and the two don’t meet till the end but its very fluffy! If you’re not a fan of slow burn this probably isn’t the drabble for you. Anywho! Thank ya for the support on the last fic and constructive criticism is MORE than welcome!!! Love ya <3

WC: 1914 

As the soft sunlight poured into the coffeehouse, she let a small smile grace her face; a steaming cafe au lait was sitting to the right of her favorite novel, It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini. The warm brick walls were covered with blankets of thick ivy and the familiar barista sent her a wave as he grinned at her seat of choice. Every Saturday morning she, as gracefully as possible, plopped her bag down onto the corner table next to the large window, and proceeded to order the exact same thing as the week before. The habit had evolved into more of a tradition for her and the employees, and all parties involved looked forward to it every week. Of course, however, not everyone knew of her tradition. All of the regulars looked at her with familiarity, however, Calum Hood was not a regular. 

He first spotted her on Saturday the third, he would never forget the date. After becoming overwhelmed with the stress of the studio he had popped out for a smoke and ended up in the cozy joint, not anticipating the beautiful girl humming in the corner. He noticed how the pages of her book had been dog-earred, spine worn, and the cover had shown marks that could only be a result of love. He noticed the way her thick brown hair laid perfectly over her shoulders, and the way her hazel eyes began to moisten while she read. He knew that he wasn’t the only person whose breath had been taken by the polished young woman. Whilst Calum took his time adoring the woman who he had deemed no less than an angel, the boys continued to work, and eventually his brief solace had to come to an end. After receiving his drink, he considered introducing himself, but he knew he didn’t have much time before his absence would go from being a mere annoyance to a menace, so he swore to go back on the next Saturday, hoping that her visit was a habit. 

Calum had never felt as though the days passed by slowly, his schedule was always packed and the bassist had little time to dedicate to anything other than his craft. Typically, he would be grateful for the daily recording sessions, long days of interviews, and time to perfect his abilities; this week, however, Calum yearned for the time to pass more quickly. He busied himself with every possible task in an effort to distract himself from the memory of the woman who had entranced him. No, he didn’t believe in “love at first sight”, but he did know that he was drawn to this girl in a way he had never felt before. He had purchased a copy of the novel that she appeared to adore, and after starting it he had realized why her eyes misted at the cafe; it was a gut wrenching story of perseverance in its most raw form. After reading a few chapters, he proceeded to clean his kitchen, do a load of laundry, tune his bass, attempt to write, and make himself lunch, Calum had about had it. It was only eleven in the morning on Wednesday, how the hell was he supposed to last until Saturday? He allowed his mind to wander into a dangerous territory; he began to build a backstory for the beauty. He decided she must be a quiet introvert who preferred to go at her own pace than follow another's, that's why she spent her Saturday morning alone and in peace, rather than surrounded by friends or family. 

After a long day of bussing tables, Theo unceremoniously threw herself onto the couch in the backroom. It had been a busy Friday night at the restaurant she worked at, a scene that she knew far too well from her years of working there.  She allowed herself three minutes, no more and no less, to rest before her short trip home. She was simply so exhausted that even the drive to her home had seemed daunting. After her time-out had ended, she quickly wished a goodnight to her coworkers and walked to her car. She faced almost no traffic on her car ride home (as she had expected, as she clocked out at 11:03pm), and made her way into her cozy apartment. After saying hello to the attendant at the desk downstairs, she scurried up to the third floor to complete her nighttime routine and jump into her familiar bed. Before allowing herself to fade into sleep, she rolled over and made sure to set her alarm for nine; it was simply tradition that she made it to her coffeeshop before the eleven o’clock rush. 

On Saturday morning Calum was buzzing with excitement. Duke’s “walk” appeared to be more of a speed walk today, and Calum’s shower was about five minutes shorter than usual; his hair routine, however? Roughly 15 minutes and approximately eight curses longer. He could not wrap his head around the gut feeling he had all week: the stunning girl would be back today, and Calum would approach her. The plan seemed simple enough, being that he had not made one yet. Calum, or “Cool Guy Cal” as he demanded people call him, thought he would be able to come up with a smooth one-liner as he approached the girl he could not get off his mind. He gave Duke a quick kiss on the head before grabbing his car keys, asking fate to give him this one chance with the girl he couldn’t forget. 

Theo woke up well before her alarm, she set it every Friday night hoping that her work sleep schedule would magically wear off and she would be able to sleep past six, but her plan never worked. She padded around her apartment in her ex’s large tee shirt and fed her goldfish, Samuel, while affectionately murmuring that he was the best choice she’d ever made. She tidied up the house and began her morning routine, brushing her teeth, washing her face, and pulling her unlawful curls out of her eyes with a few clips. She sighed at the dark circles underneath her eyelids, but hadn’t thought enough about them to bother with makeup. She grabbed her day bag, untouched from the week before, and happily trotted out of her complex. The walk to the cafe had always been her favorite part of her trips, the birds chirping and the bright sun spreading across her skin could turn any day into a good one. Her green maxi skirt brushed along her legs as she confidently strutted down the same route she took every Saturday morning. She walked with her shoulders back and head held high; unknowingly carrying an aura of professionalism and class. The young woman hadn’t realized that she appeared so poised before she moved to the Golden State. Far more people than she could count had complimented her for her stature since she moved, and she had just about had it with strangers approaching to compliment her “vibe”. During her tenure in Los Angeles, Theo had realized that everything here was curated to be seen by others. Simply, in LA people believed that every aspect of one’s life was meant to be on display, and therefore, little things like one’s strut down the street and the amount of rings on their hand translated to their worth and opinions. She continued her trot down the road, ignoring the looks being sent her way and instead focusing on the cafe au lait and comforting text that she knew awaited her. 

Before Calum left his car, he made sure to triple check his appearance. He wore what he believed to be his best shirt (Ashton agreed with him, so he knew it wasn’t a mistake), left his curls a little messy, and made sure he had absolutely nothing in his teeth, despite the fact that he hadn’t yet consumed anything. He jumped out of the car and walked briskly to the ivy covered walls, a warm feeling began to spread in his chest as he swung open the doors and glanced around the cafe. The feeling dissipated quickly when he realized that the girl he had ventured out for was, in fact, not there. He ordered his drink of choice and sat at a table near a window before huffing in frustration, but he had nothing to lose at this point, so once his number was called he rose to pick up his drink and enjoy the serene cafe he had found himself in. 

The little bell jingled above Theo’s head as she walked into the place she had grown so familiar with, her face still felt hot from the merciless Los Angeles summer she had walked through, and it was her absolute favorite feeling. The long skirt fluttered around her calves as she walked up to the counter to say hello to the baristas that she now called her friends, and they began working on her drink without even asking what she would like. She went to take her usual place in the secluded corner by the window, and while walking over noticed a breathtaking man sitting two tables away from her spot. Her breath hitched in her throat and she shot him a soft smile as she took her rightful place. 

My God. I could wake up to that smile everyday. Calum thought to himself in awe. He quickly curved up the sides of his mouth to send her (what he hoped was) a sweet grin in return. He quickly shook the previous thought out of his head, knowing it was more than irrational and inappropriate since he had yet to even learn the girls name. He watched as the man who took his order walked over to her table with a bemused smile, they chatted briefly and it became quite obvious to Cal that his hunch had been correct, she does come here every Saturday morning. Zach, the barista, had left her table with a laugh and returned with a big mug. After straining to hear Calum heard the girl release a melodic giggle paired with a genuine thank you for the server. Zach mockingly bowed to her and said, with an exaggerated wink, “anything for you, Princess Theo”. Ignoring the spark of jealousy that ignited when Calum heard the pet name, he felt more gratitude for Zach than he could ever imagine. Theo. Theo fit the young woman perfectly; a greek name meaning “divine gift”. With this newfound information Calum felt the surge of confidence he needed, he approached the table in the corner with a bit of nerves in his tummy. 

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Calum, I was just wondering if this seat is taken?” He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but Calum may have thickened his accent a bit in an effort to woo the girl. She already had him wrapped around her finger, at this point he needed every advantage he could get. He watched in adoration as her face flushed bright pink, and she sputtered out a greeting of her own, “Oh! Um- hi I’m Theo it’s nice to meet you as well, no-no, the seat isn’t taken.” From the second that Calum slid into the chair across from her, Theo knew he would be nothing but trouble, and in the years to follow she would learn that while he was troublesome, he was so much more.

[veronicassadboi]

🖤 Jeronica Secret Santa ❤️

To @vxj-veronica-jones with love. Merry Christmas. Thanks for your continual love and support of the fandom. You’re a real MVP. Sorry, all I can offer is angst as that’s my #Thing. Summer mentions because it’s summer on my side of the world. Sorry if it’s too much angst for the festive season but you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, right? Formatting is annoying because I’m posting this amidst travelling overseas for Christmas on my phone. I should face posted on AO3 instead of posting this long ass post that won’t work with a “read more” cut. Merry Christmas anywho ❤️

Be With Me

Warning: mentions of sex, gang slanging (lol), swearing, heart ache.

Summary: She pops up everywhere. In the taste of shakes at Pop's. The writing she left on his kitchen table that he hasn't been able to move. In the text messages he reads before he forces himself to sleep at least two hours at night. He's still learning how to perfect that, though. Because sometimes it's a messy forty-five minutes just before school. Or it's a solid sixteen hours and he's missed the whole fucking day. At the moment, there's no in between.

————————————|

Jughead lights up a cigarette. It just alleviates the urge pulsing through him but he takes them anyway; three deep drags in a row with rushing bloodstreams and noisy thoughts. Jughead turns up Tame Impala and lets the music drown him in noisy basslines and clashing cymbals - clashing thoughts. But his eraseture of his messy mind is a battle lost. He stubs out menthol cigarettes in the ashtray, watching it burn into itself, mystic wisps of smoke, but he reaches for another one. The urge he has for Veronica is pulsing faster now. As he flicks his lighter, he wonders how much her happiness would grow if she watched him light up his Serpents jacket the same way he burned this cigarette. Red hot flames, up in smoke….

What’s the price I pay for loving Veronica Lodge? He thinks.

Pure fucking torture is what I pay, the back of his mind reminds him.

Jughead’s craving for Veronica doesn’t feel much more than a gentle rustle in the breeze at the moment. It’s a welcome change to the raw throat burning he usually gets at four in the morning, at two in the afternoon; ten at night. He zones out of imagining Veronica’s sugary, honeyed calls and he feels lighter all of a sudden. In her zone. But he comes back down to earth, it hits him harder than it usually does; Jughead’s craving is sated because she’s here with him.

Though she’s with him, fears eats away when all he can think about is the skin scratching, blood thickening feeling he’ll get when she leaves.

Love is confidence. Confident is what he feels when Veronica is here with him. I’m undefeatable, I’m God-like right now.

She’s almost aerobatic – fucking artistic the way she flies through the air and it’s all because of him. She wraps her arms around his neck, dots sweet kisses. Skin tearing jaw bites that he can smell, cinnamon mixed with his favourite brand of menthol. He smiles against her as he tastes her skin, she tastes like she did at four in morning and during her break at lunch, the back wall of Pop’s knows the shape of her body almost as well as Jughead does. She tastes absolutely edible as her thighs creep up his sides, pulling herself up his body with her legs around his waist. “I missed you,” she tells him, scratching on his leather back.

Jughead feels his cheeks burn, his heart whistle; fingertips numbing all because of the girl around him. He hisses up courage, tasting her a little more. Saturating myself in her, he begs himself. “Tell me how much you love me,” He begs her. His fingers are pins and needles, his heart is tight in her grip.

Veronica  leans back as Jughead grips onto her ass, keeping her up with his mind trying to keep up too. “I want you to stay with me.”

He sniggers as his mouth fills with saliva; he’s salivating, - a man starved, hungry, feverish from starvation. His mouth feels dry now, not  keeping up. “What’s the price of loving me?” he ask her this time.

She raises an eyebrow. “That you can’t live without me.”

He groans against her; he fucks her against the wall.

When you love the way we love, who the fuck requires a heart? He asks himself.

Because it’s a pause in heart beats, it’s the lack of blood flow. He doesn’t exist anywhere else but in her.

He kisses her dirty; he kisses her until he can’t breathe.

They’re in the trailer. When they came in, the sun was shining so bright on the two on the floor. Now it’s just cold, dark and Jughead’s heart feels like a hoarder –  almost as if he’s keeping her all to himself and he won’t share her; he won’t let her loose. If I let go, she might not come back to me...

“I love you,” Veronica tells him. “More and more everyday.”

She’s glittery beneath the moonlight, dark hair turns midnight in the light. Skin turns tasty in the moon. She turns magical in here, he reminds himself. She’s supernatural right now. Every kiss on her lips tells the story of us, he knows, starvation, lust, love, dependence, poison, love, affection, pure, love, lost, love, needing, love, I can’t live without her. Love.

“Tell me how much you love me,” he asks.

“Come with me, we’ll go, Jug,” she promises. “New York.”

“Princess,” he prays.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I love you more than they do.”

“I love you so much, I go fucking crazy.”

“Go fucking crazy then,” she orders, “Do it, then you can come with me and we’ll start a new life.” “A new life,” he copies, “One where you love me happily.”

“I love you happily anyways,” she says with a sigh. “Even when it hurts.”

She’s purple painted toes digging into her blankets. She’s laying in satin kind of tired.

He feels cold without Southside on his shoulders. “Were you Southside?” she asks before even looking at Jughead standing at the trailer window.

“I was,” he says, catching in his throat.

“And?”

“And now I’m not.”

Veronica hums. “What time are you going back?” she says so thickly, Jughead can feel her words hitting him in the heart; sharp, harsh arrows. “Are you going back?” An arrow to the heart.

“No.”

She rolls over, her eyes are red bloodshot and her skin sun kissed in the dark. “So today you’ll pretend like you’re all mine?”

“Only if you pretend that you’re all mine, Princess.”

Veronica shakes the earth to give Jughead more than anything in the world. I am a man starved. I am greedy in loving her. I take all of her, nothing to spare.

She took all of him until there was nothing left to give her.

“Just be with me here,” she prays.

“I’ll be here.”

Jughead ignores the necklace that hangs around his Princess’s neck that his best friend bought her. Just like she ignores the smell of Betty’s vanilla on his own skin.

xxxxx

Jughead stares at the time on the alarm clock as it beeps to wake him up. He doesn't switch it off, he doesn't have the energy hit snooze. He thinks briefly on the time and he wonders what Veronica is doing at this exact moment. If his thoughts didn't betray him, then the smell of her in his sheets did. He woke up with her smell mixed with his smell and he knows he's fucking lying to himself when he tries to make out that he's unsure of how many days it's been since he last saw her fake smile. Thirteen. She pops up everywhere. In the taste of shakes at Pop's. The writing she left on his kitchen table that he hasn't been able to move. In the text messages he reads before he forces himself to sleep at least two hours at night. He's still learning how to perfect that, though. Because sometimes it's a messy forty-five minutes just before school. Or it's a solid sixteen hours and he's missed the whole fucking day. At the moment, there's no in between. She's the marrow in the bones of his fucked up days. Veronica Lodge is the marrow in his very bones. Veronica is him. Jughead punches a pillow as the alarm keeps going. He screams into the same one. He realises it smells like her, so he clings on a little tighter. And then he feels the ache in his jaw, the pulsing of blood in his split lip and then he remembers how he got here in the first place.

XXXXX

"You hate me, don't you?" Jughead asks his best friend. Archie Andrews wasn't a liar. And Jughead knows that Archie Andrews has a level of loyalty that the Southside wouldn't be able to rival. Archie Andrews also had a weird way of saying exactly what was on his mind even if maybe, Jughead thinks, he shouldn't. Jughead also wonders if he can count how many times Archie opens his mouth in an attempt to make up some lie, but, yet again, Archie Andrews is not a liar and it almost irritates Jughead that his best friend is torturing him in this way. "I don't hate you, Jug." Jughead sniggers, kicks his boots on the lino floor of the trailer and stops himself from rolling his eyes. "You hate me." "Betty still loves you she just..."

"Doesn't love what I've become."

Jughead can’t even come up with a string of truths. It wasn’t Betty. And it wasn’t love lost between him and her either. It was Veronica. Jughead continues to lie through his teeth, humouring his best friend. Trying not to think too loudly about his best friend’s girlfriend. Trying not to be too harsh about Betty.

Archie scrambles for words again. Jughead can tell. He's frantic and stumbling over his own tongue. He grabs Jughead by the collar and shakes him out, but Jughead can just feel boiling blood. "This stupid jacket is what we hate, but we love you, Juggie," Archie takes a steadying breath. "Betty loves you; I miss you, Jug. Veronica does too.” Jug wishes they were kids again. Way back when. When FP and Fred were best buds and they were back up in the treehouse. Or even not that long ago, when he was crashing on the Andrews floor and the biggest issue was Archie burning pizza. But they're not. Archie is a Northern Suburban Knight in Shining Armour and Jughead is a Southside Serpent earning new fangs while cycling with the training wheels still on. Hearing Veronica’s name made his arteries connected to his heart harden and stop pulsing, the blood was coagulating, stiffening and hardening. Archie's words only made him feel half the amount better, because 'I-love-you's' from Archie Andrews were dished out as often as 'hellos', Jughead doesn't think it as a dig at his best friend, he likes to think of it as Archie just has a big heart. But he sees his best friend glaring at the leather jacket on his shoulders and then he remembers how he got here in the first place. Jughead thinks quickly on everything that he has control over. He has freedom and the trailer is his. He can ride out at any time, there's no limit to where he can go. And then his chest feels tight, and his breathing is too shallow. He can't control his repetitive reading of Veronica’s last texts. Or the way he thinks the only way his heart is still beating is because Veronica Lodge is still on his mind. But the trailer is his, the bike is his, though not something he had initially wanted, Hotdog was his. And so were the bad thoughts, the mess of hair on his head, the dark rings under his eyes, the two hours sleep, the love he holds for Veronica, the cigarettes he all of a sudden acquired and the pills Sweetpea insists he'll like. They're all his. And then he remembers how he got here in the first place.

XXXXX

Toni has a body that is out of this world. Toni has a mouth with lips that look like they need biting. She has hair you can hold on to. Toni has words that make guys drop to their knees, Jughead knows, because Fangs told him. She gives him that taste of Southside without the pain. And when there is pain involved, Toni makes a good makeshift nurse. She's seen things before that he's only just learning about and she makes a good teacher. And if Betty was good at teaching him school work, then Toni is schooling him at life. He feels bile at the back of his throat when he thinks of Betty and Toni in the same go. But things are complicated and no amount of digging his snake pit further into Southside was going to change that. He couldn't be further from the North than he is right now. Even while sitting in the Red and Black with dust plumes glittering in afternoon sun, Toni is making a passionate speech about showing the true identity of Southside High to Riverdale. And as much as taking photos of the Football team and the Drama class that just so happens to have an uncountable amount of students with nose rings and belt buckles with studs on them, he can't help but think that Toni would have a better chance at portraying this place for what it was. A festering wound that is hard to cover up. "You've got some dark rings under your eyes, Forsythe," she says with a smirk. "You been up all night or something?" Jughead reads the bite of her lip and the wink of her right eye. He reads it dirty but he shrugs in reply. "Hmm," he says.

Toni knows secrets about him that no one else does. She keeps them locked up inside - Toni is the safest place he knows and one of the only places he trusts. “Veronica,” she says, slapping on a look of pity. She slinks behind his chair, pats his shoulder, ruffles his hair. "Don't worry, Juggie, if you love each other, you'll find your way back." Do marrow and blood every actually touch? He's not sure. He flickers briefly between thinking about how he and Veronica would find their way back and believing that they had never actually ever fucking lost each other. He flickers between words from Toni's lips and Veronica’s soul. He flickers between loving Veronica and then he remembers how he got here in the first place.

XXXXX

Veronica has been working at Pop’s alone. He can tell by the way her skin is slick and she’s an overbitten lower lip. He knows she’s tired, but she knows she works harder than anyone else. He knows the taste of her overbitten lips and the feel of her hair in his fists. Out of selfishness for his own battered feelings, he doesn't approach her. Or he might tell her how much he needs her. How he can't live without her. How he can’t fucking breathe. But he's at risk of looking like an idiot and his ego can't take another blow. Her shoulders slump, he watches her hand smooth over her face and then over her hair, she cranes her neck a little, leaning on the mop handle. He doesn't order, he walks out hungry. He kicks his bike before getting back on it. And then he remembers how he got here in the first place.

XXXXX

It's sick, because every punch from the Ghoulie sounds like Veronica’s name against his skin. He feels the Ghoulie’s knuckles sing against the right side of his jaw, his teeth grate against each other but he manages a swing too, weak with his left hand side. Princess, it ghosts. Somehow, the Ghoulie gets ahold of the scruff of his neck and he's trying to tackle Jughead down, but Jug is younger, faster, he spins out, spits blood on the floor and swings his right, stronger hand. Veronica, it sings against the Ghoulie’s nose. The Ghoulie laughs manically, "Yeah, you little Serpent’s tougher than you look, huh?" Jughead thinks ironically that the Ghoulie isn't right because if only he knew of the girl that has him crippled most of the time. But he shouldn't be thinking of her when he gets landed a blow to the temple. He's almost out cold when he hears Sweet Pea call his name. "Veronica?" Jughead asks the buzzing in his ears, it surely has to be her. But then he realises it's not because he remembers how he got here in the first place.

XXXXX

Jughead feels exposed and he tries to sit up quickly when he sees her, but he also wonders if maybe he shouldn't bother. He has to be dead to be seeing Veronica Lodge sitting on the end of his bed. Once upon a time it was sneaking through bedroom windows. Then crashing out on the overused sofa in the trailer. Then it was shouting, hateful words. Soft tender kisses in the rain. Wiping tears away in the booth at Pop's. Making himself physically fucking sick because love shouldn't be this hard, right? Veronica had promised him that their love was unshakeable, unmovable, limitless. She had promised Jughead that their love was as easy as breathing. At what point of their love did Veronica become a liar? He wonders.

When we chose to fall in love, he reminds himself. Nothing was harder than hushed secrets. Lying to the people they swore they loved. Now, she was so close that he could smell her perfume, but he could also make out the tracks and paths of her tears thanks to black mascara. And as much as Jughead wanted to look away, he was a man starved. He drinks her in, he soaks up her sun, he wants to feel pain in his palms when she's in his hands. But the way she drips disgust in him hurts him more than it hurts her. "Why are you doing this, Jughead?" she asks, a malicious tone in her voice. She shakes the room, she slams a fist down on the same pillow he does every night. "Don't do this Jughead," her tears fly. "This is crazy! It's dangerous." He thinks his love for her is the only dangerous thing around here. He reaches with a shaky, beat up hand and wipes her tears and she sinks into his hand, closing her eyes. "You know I’d do anything for you. And if that means keeping on the Southside to keep them from you in the Northside, then so be it." "Run away with me. Please," she begs. "I'm serious." She slides into the bed with him, shaking with cold even if it's warm outside. He wonders why she's so cold, why everything hurts. But then he remembers how they got here in the first place. He can't keep away from her. But then, he never could. He dreams of Springtime when he was a kid, riding bikes with Archie. And he misses that too. The old Archie. The one who wasn't so scared. The one that was funny. But Jughead remembers, they were all funny back then. He laughs lightly about Betty and how way back when, she used to be a pigtail kind of girl and not much has changed, only that she's now a single ponytail kind of girl.

He remembers when he wasn’t in love with the girl he shouldn’t be. When he wasn’t hurting his best friend and Betty. When things were simple. He prays for those days. But he couldn’t survive without Veronica, so the prayers are futile. Now he’s late nights in The Pembrooke where he’s kissed Veronica a million times after paying the price of Southside, he made it up to her with her thighs around his head and her nails in his hair. He laughed against the insides of her ankles and soft kisses on her wrist and for once, Southside was left on the floor next to her radio. Jughead lies in Veronica’s arms with her fingers still playing with a curl at the front of his face. "I want to go, V," he tells her honestly. "I want you and I to go, let's go, get out of here." It was crazy but Jughead knew it was doable. He had arranged everything, he had money, a car. He wanted to skip, get out of here. Veronica stops, tilts Jughead's head with her hands and gives him a serious look while frowning. "Are you serious?" "Do I look like I'm joking?" he challenges. She inhales sharply. "Leave all this mess behind?" He nods. He nods so hard, he feels like he looks stupid but he was serious and if he could, he would leave now. "You and me, Princess, what do you say?" She smiles. She kisses him a million times. He smiles against her collarbone and then he remembers how he got here in the first place.

XXXXX

It’s hot-sweat in the middle of summer kind of heat. It was sweat dripping from the tip of her nose. Veronica and Betty had been ice-cream-sweet all day. Veronica smacked her lips and looked up from shy eyes, whispered rumours and quiet laughs were painful. Her lips smack together with pleasure when she humours Betty; Summer heat carries summer secrets. Veronica keeps warm in the memories of last night.

It’s hot-sweat in the middle of summer kind of heat but Jughead was muted-twilight-tones with the sun setting on his skin. It was sticky tar pavements and sticky fingers against Veronica’s iPhone screen from summer sun when she messages her mom to tell her she’ll be late home but through the heat, Jughead still wore red Docs with long socks and sweat-sticky leather against his back. They stand outside his trailer with the overused door handle and the worn out paint that spoke volumes to her. Old. Muted. Worn. Sticky-summer-sun is setting on the worn out paint and made it seem a little colder than cold around here.

Jughead stands on a cigarette butt to put it out and nods at Veronica. “Tell me how much you love me,” he says. “Come on, Princess,” he says with a scuff of his boot.

“Nobody likes someone who’s so needy,” she replies, rolling her eyes.

He laughs quietly and reaches out to her shorts, hooking his lazy-long fingers in the belt hoop of denim shorts, pulling Veronica closer. Her hips bump his hips, her breath hitches in her throat as she feels him but his breath is breathing on her skin. Jughead’s mouth meets Veronica’s neck; his tongue dances on sweat-sticky, soft-aching skin. He kisses her. “Let’s see how needy I can get then.”

His words echo. His smile, though she can’t see it, is larger than ever. She can feel it; she feels his smile on her neck; on her skin. His hands? She can’t see them; she feels them, edging on the start of denim, popping her buttons,  second button,  third button, and the rest after that. She gives in with her eyes curious-kind-of-wide and her voice on his tongue.

“Where have you been?” she asks him.

“Gone,” he groans against her skin. “Preparing the world for you,” He keeps running his fingers on denim. Punishment reaches down and  starts doing denim up, never looking away from his leather jacket. But his fingers stop pulling and he steps back, running a hand over his face. “V...” he murmurs.

“Jughead,” she says strongly back. Loud in her mind. Smirk dancing on her lips. “Punishment,” she tells him.

He smirks to himself and shrugs his shoulders; exhaling loudly as he reads her erratic mind. “Tell me you’re not mad at me…”

“But then I would be lying,” she says putting her hands on  hips.

He pulls her by the hips again, bumping her to him again, making her weak all over again. “Tell me a lie.”

“Where have you been?” she asks him. He was supposed to be so much more than secret-whispers and smug-cocky smirks.

“Southside,” he says biting his lower lip and shoving his hands pocket deep.

His eyes flicker down to the dirt he’s standing on and his lips purse but she can read them and the words he’s trying to speak. “Stop going Southside,” she begs. Her hands finding his and pulling them up to her lips. “Just be here with me.”

Jughead sighs and his hands tighten in hers. He pulls Veronica’s hands to his lips this time, kissing them over and over. “I’m here,” he mumbles. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here,” he repeats his prayer, on her knuckles, smoothing out fingers, running over her nails.

She feels them building in her chest first then it runs up into her mind; half-prayers and mumbled promises. “I can give you more than they can,” she promises. “I just want you to be here with me.”

He chuckles again and lets go of Veronica, pulling at belt loops again. “I’m always here,” he answers. “Always.” He was here but he’s not here. He was in her space but he wasn’t really here with her. “Tell me a lie,” he murmurs sugar-sweet. “Tell me a lie, tell me a lie,” he murmurs as he pulls her in; shoulders easing, anger still running electric through her. “Tell me you don’t hate the Serpents, tell me you’re okay… Tell me another lie.”

She pushes at his chest; shoving him away. Weak-handed, pissed-off-strong. “I hate that you don’t tell me everything.”

He sniggers at her. It’s all cocky-truths and rolled eyes. “That’s not a lie, Princess,” he says running his tongue over minty-fresh teeth. “That’s the worst kind of truth.”

“You’re right,” she whispers against his lips.

“We’ll be leaving, any day now, Princess.”

She’s lost in the taste of his tongue and his hands between her thighs.

XXXXX

The SS Camaro is in need of a paint job, but it's enough to do the trick. His heart races and the arteries barely open up but this time, not from pain. From pure, unfiltered excitement. Jughead is okay, but he's not at the same time. The sun shines through the window of the car and he knows it should be burning him, it's unnaturally hot today but he feels almost nothing at all. Crashing waves is what he feels in the tightness of his chest and freefalling right in the pit of his stomach. He's scared. He's worried. He'd give up his entire life just for this. Veronica is two minutes late but the way her hair swings with her brisk walk and her suitcase rolling behind her, he can see that those two minutes was part of his time well spent. She was here, and every step on the pavement as she walks to the car feels like they sprout dark petalled roses from the concrete and her smile is rooting itself in his veins. Just seeing her is completing him. He revs the engine, she opens up. They look at each other; Jughead lets Veronica peer directly into his soul and at one point, he feels her inside of him. She shuts the heavy door, it makes her flinch but she takes a deep breath, steadies herself, closes her eyes. Inhales. He turns on the indicator to signal out of the street but before he moves, he kisses her cheek. "I love you, Veronica." Veronica smiles like the sun in the middle of summer, burning him, charred skin. "I love you too, Jughead," she breathes. "Let's go." "Where to?" "Our new home," she laughs. "Anywhere!" Jughead remembers how he got here in the first place. Love.

—————————|

Lots of love,

@veronicassadboi

[the-poutine-routine]

Hi pals

So although I think a lot of us in the VirtueMoir fandom are just here to have fun or to inflict torture upon ourselves via a couple of Canadian ice dancing bozos, sometimes all the shouting can get to be a bit overwhelming. So, anywho, if you’re anything like myself and are often not the hugest fan of humanity as a whole here is...

A List of Ways to Stay Moderately Involved in the VirtueMoir (or just figure skating) Fandom Without Actually Having to Interact With Humans

Blades of Glory. Need I say more?

Watch some old skating videos (of Tessa and Scott or of just other randos)

Watch some newer skating videos and see if you can find any new faves for the upcoming seasons

Cook something and revel in the fact that you have one single skill that Tessa Virtue does not

Scream into the void

Do literally any activity with a Tessa and Scott spotify playlist in the background

Create fan art if that’s your jam

Create fan videos if that’s your jelly

Write fan fiction or VM inspired poetry/text if that’s your marmalade

View, watch, or read any of the content mentioned in the previous three suggestions

Watch Ice Princess (the one where the girl learns physics and then can do a triple flip)

Learn physics so that you can do a triple flip

Watch Ice Girls (it’s on Netflix) and think about how great of an actor Tessa Virtue is

Watch some old interviews just for shits and giggles

Cry

Go ice skating (I understand that this may not be feasible for everyone, but if there is a rink and skates available to you, do it you won’t)

Learn one of the dances from one of Tessa and Scott’s programs (listen... look... I am the worst dancer known to humanity and I made a one fifth of the way decent attempt at the opening dance from Prince and the YRMW dance so it’s possible) 

...Or just dance in general

Start a band

Listen to a podcast that features Tessa and/or Scott

Get ready to go to the gym but then just sit by the door and cry because of Tessa’s abs

Actually go to the gym

Eat ice cream or another favorite frozen dessert (you deserve it whether or not you actually made it to the gym)

Stare at pictures of Tessa’s abs

Think about Beyoncé 

Learn all the words to Oh Canada and sing them while pretending to stand on top of an Olympic podium with your platonic business partner

Make out with one of your coworkers (consensually of course!)

Read Tessa and Scott’s book 

Go shopping for Tessa Virtue Approved™ outfits

Get a personal phone call from Justin Trudeau congratulating you on your life’s accomplishments

Scream

Just smile.

So obviously not all of these are going to be possible depending on different ages, financial situations, living locations, physical capabilities, etc. but just know that you are still a very important part of the fandom regardless of whether you are almost as loud about your obsession as Tessa is on social media, or as quiet in your stanning as Scott muttered the words “I’ve read...” during the Newlywed Game :)

[dark-unimaginably-stupid-kids]

December

Another drabble. This one is....more cathartic? So lets start with a big ol’ Authors Note:

So it’s come to my attention that the way I met my ex was very /Keith/ like and as such, I’ve come to notice a few more parallels SO....

The following is pretty much how it happened. Well, sans the express mentions of Keith sleeping with Regris and Lance sleeping with Jenny. But ya know. I had to stop eventually. I also didn’t get to fit in the rune readings or the making out in the car and bs-ed a couple things to make them more Lance and Keith--

And ya know, Lance would just be a better man. Sorry not sorry.

If you’re reading this Bright Eyes: why haven’t you deleted me yet? Like you have absolutely no business still following my writing. I’d block you if I wasn’t just morbidly amused by how long you must have to scroll to get through my gay boys, kthnx.

Also, Idk, I guess Keith handled his liquor better than I did.

@meli-reads-all Look I DID IT. We can do fighting for spots later, and maybe I’ll make some ridiculous little short about the blue eyed one too cause /fuck/ my ridiculous Keith-like meet cutes/background stories.

Anywho.

Klance. College AU I guess.

Drinking and smoking (Keith is an alcoholic because I am an alcoholic. -finger guns-)

Keith gets dragged out of his house under the promise of vodka. Ends up opening the door to a boy he really should have been nicer to because wow is Lance everything he ever wanted.

3.9k words

----

The first red flag of the night should have been Jenny’s pushiness. Keith had only hung out with her one time since they’d “become friends” in middle school and now they were taking two classes a semester at the local Uni (if any) and occasionally waved at each other in the hallways.

Hell, Keith hadn’t even done that in months given the shit time he’d had at school and his absolute lack of a desire to pursue any kind of degree.

He’d taken the fall semester off and was still mentally wording the letter to Shiro in his head about how he was going to drop out when Jenny had blown up his phone.

“You’re just being a hermit aren’t you!? Get dressed! I’m coming over!”

Keith eyed the texts and rolled his eyes. He glanced down at himself in his lose Spiderman top and his boxers and shrugged. He was plenty dressed.

“I’m bringing a friend!”

God damn it.

To hang out with an annoying girl he’d technically known for years? Pj top and boxers were fine.

To hang out with said girl and a total stranger?

Fuck.

Okay.

Pants then.

She lived nearby, so he dragged himself out of bed, paused his binge watch of the day (season 8 of Criminal Minds. It had been a while since he’d gone to catch up. They already had ten seasons on Netflix. It was gonna be a nice weekend if Jenny would just leave him alone.)

But then she was there.

Shaybon or whatever her stupid name was.

Keith’s roommate Pidge was out for the day, but she’d left the living room in a bit of a state so while Jenny made herself at home and introduced her friend, Keith tidied up.

Not that he cared about a strangers opinion of his home, but because he didn’t like strangers and it was better to focus on other things while people introduced themselves. The strangers name was Regris. Tall, dark, acceptable.

He watched Keith clean and smirked a lot. Like it amused him.

Keith didn’t really care. He hadn’t planned to entertain, he hadn’t wanted to. Jenny was being a fucking pain springing this on him.

Of course, she was vaguely well meaning? During that one outing they’d been on which was only about a month ago, Jenny had told Keith all about how she’d moved in with her boyfriend only for him to dump her and disappear to go fuck his ex on the same night. Keith had offered her some solidarity in that he was also recently heartbroken.

Though, a fuck buddy who was more buddy than fuck who suddenly decided to drop you for no apparent reason, was slightly lower priority than an actual live in boyfriend; it still hurt and Keith could still vaguely sympathize.

Hell, there was a reason he was binge watching Criminal Minds and wanted to be alone.

He missed Rolo, but what was he going to do? First Rolo didn’t want to fuck anymore, then he didn’t want to be friends, go figure, shit happens.

He’d been fun. And he’d helped Keith get out of his shell for a time. And he’d been comfortable and they always seemed to be on the same page. But you know.

Shit.

Keith had started developing feelings, as it happens when you actually enjoy someone’s presence who you’re also attracted to and have decent chemistry. He’d told Rolo, but he’d tried to explain the friendship mattered more. Keith loved the feeling of being alive far more than he even remotely liked Rolo in that way. And that was what Rolo gave him just by cracking a joke and making a room full of people keel over in laughter.

Rooms full of people.

Pleasant, fun things.

No one whispering no one judging.

Everyone was weird and at their own pace.

Keith missed it all so terribly.

But now all he has was fucking Jenny.

He went into his fridge, took out two beers and sat down at the kitchen table when he’d finished cleaning. Regris eyed the beer as if one was for him but Keith simply rolled his eyes. He opened the first one and downed it, then promptly opened the second one and turned to Jenny.

“So. What are we supposed to do now? Did you come here with a plan or are you two just going to watch Criminal Minds with me?”

It was Jenny’s turn to roll her eyes and she did so with a flourish to her friend. Regris in turn glanced at his phone and shrugged, “Well my friend is having a get together. Not far.”

Keith nodded, took a gulp of his beer, “Great, you two have fun.”

“Oh come on Keith! Don’t be that way!”

Keith stared at Jenny, took another swig, and waited.

Jenny eyed the bottle and finally came up with something that actually interested Keith. She knew this because Keith had made very clear what he’d been doing to cope since the loss of his university family. He was making it very clear now, bottle in hand.

And rather than attempt to dissuade him, she enabled him, “Regris, Thace has alcohol right?”

Keith’s eyebrow arched but he said nothing. Regris laughed, “Uh, yeah? Of course?”

“Probably more beer right?” Keith grumbled, he was almost done with the second bottle now and it was pretty gross. He didn’t like beer, but he’d finished the sweeter drinks earlier and these were left overs from when he used to have friends over, people who wanted to hang out with him and Rolo anyway.

“Well. There will be beer, yeah. But Thace is more of whiskey drinker.”

Keith thought about it. Whiskey had specific side effects in him. Best to avoid around generally attractive men. He was about to open his mouth to say he’d still prefer to pass when Jenny shot up, “Vodka! Tell him there will be vodka!”

Ah yes, because Keith had been drinking when he’d told her the story and she remembered what he’d ordered.

Regris seemed a bit surprised but shrugged it off, “Yeah? Of course he has vodka.”

Keith sighed and turned his attention from Jenny to Regris, “And I’ll be allowed to drink, this vodka, right?”

He scoffed, “Once you’re in the house all the booze is fair game. Thace is cool that way.”

Keith gave himself another moment to assess, considered the fact he’d finished his last bottle and was actually quietly craving the stuff. He also considered how Jenny would never let him hear the end of it if he said no.

“…Alright. But only for the vodka.”

Jenny practically bounced out of her seat and Regris shrugged, “Cool, I’m gonna take a smoke and we’ll head out then.”

Keith watched Regris step onto the porch, cigarette and lighter in hand, and turned back to Jenny, “This your rebound or something?”

The girl looked surprised and waved her hand, “Oh no. Reg and I have been friends for years. But he did say his friend Lo was gonna be there tonight and he might be juuuust my type.”

Keith stared at her for a long moment, sure to be as openly judgmental as possible, but she took it with a proud smile, “Don’t be jealous, maybe we’ll find you a distraction too!”

“Don’t count on it.”

---

Keith was in the middle of pouring his second mixed drink when someone knocked. Jenny was in the backyard, floating around and making friends. Regris was playing pool with Thace—who was a decent enough guy even if he did keep his absolutely beautiful darling huskie locked in the kitchen.

Honestly, Keith preferred the company of the dog.

He just didn’t have it in him to socialize with these people anymore. He wanted to drink and go home and not be in his mind by he time he went to sleep.

He finished a cherry liquor before he realized someone was knocking and sadly put his cup down. He turned and popped his head outside. Thace was sitting, waiting for his turn and chatting with two girls.

“Thace, someone’s here,” Keith said bluntly.

Thace didn’t even look up, “Cool, that’s probably him now,” He said to the girls, then he spoke louder for Keith, “Go open it.”

Keith stood there, “…It’s not my house.”

“So? It’s my friend, go open it?”

Keith could hear Jenny perk up from behind the pool table, “Is it Lo?”

Regris replied to her, clarifying that Lo was still very much on the other side of town.

“Then who is it?” Jenny pressed.

Thace chuckled, “We’ll know once Keith gets the door. Go on.”

Keith still didn’t move, “…It’s not my house. Who goes around strangers houses and opens doors to total—what?!”

“Just get it, it’s probably—” Thace was speaking to the nameless girls again and Jenny chose just then to laugh loudly at Keith’s antics.

With a disgruntled puff Keith turned back into the house, picked up his discarded vodka-cherry-who-remembers-what-else and sipped at it while he made his way to the door just as the questionable someone knocked again.

Keith held the cup with his teeth and fought with the door locks for a second before, by some miracle, finally managing to turn them the right way and pulling the door loose.

“Hey—” Started the stranger.

Keith took the cup out of his mouth and gave the guy at the door a once over, cup in hand and general annoyance rumbling into his generally poor attitude, he looked the stranger dead in his decidedly pretty blue eyes and with his own half lidded in boredom said, “And who the fuck are you supposed to be?”

It was almost comical, if Keith had been paying attention to the social cues. Because the man’s eyes widened and his jaw slackened but there was still the barest hint of an amused smile on his face.

“U-Uh… Leandro?”

“Leo?”

“Lee- Leandro—”

“Alejandro?”

“N-No, my name is—”

“I don’t care.”

Keith turned around and walked straight back the way he’d come, cup back to his lips, “Everyone’s outside I guess.” He said mostly to no one, maybe somewhat to the new guy.

When he made it to the sliding glass door again he announced to the group of strangers who were eagerly awaiting the arrival of their friend, “Some.. Alex or whatever is here.”

“It’s—”

Keith heard him stumble out again but Thace had beamed instead, “Lance! Glad you could make it!”

Keith blinked at the name, considered it, and shrugged. Lance actually wasn’t a bad name. Didn’t sound anything like Alejandro though. How’d that happen.

Oh well.

He went to his corner at the far end of the yard and decided to start nursing his drink. (Though by now, this was probably a bit late)

Especially when Jenny came and joined him, still on her first drink and already bumbling, “man you really do drink don’t you?”

Keith said nothing. She put her cup down in front of him and asked if he wanted to finish it for her. She’d made it too strong. He tried it an agreed, her being a lightweight, this wasn’t going to work out.

They traded drinks.

“So Lance is pretty cute isn’t he?” Jenny started, nudging Keith in the side on his lawn chair.

He glanced across the yard where Lance had joined on the pool game, and this time Keith really looked at him.

“I guess.” Keith mumbled. He was tan, and broad shouldered, and he had a nice smile and kind eyes. He was… almost too good. “He’s the kind of hot who probably knows it and so doesn’t actually expend any effort in meeting people.”

Jenny nudged him harder, some friendly kind of reprimand, “Oh come on Keith, don’t be like that. You’re telling me you’re not into him?”

Keith glanced at him again, watched him turn to face Regris, laugh at a joke.

“I’m not saying that.”

Because he absolutely was not saying that.

But.

“But it’s not like it matters. It’s not like he’d be into me even if I was inclined to wandering into that kind of hell again. It’s cool.”

She pouted her pretty pink lips and Keith rolled his eyes for the hundredth time that night, “Jen. How about you cut to the chase. Lo’s gonna be a no show so you want to go flirt with him. Go, it’s not like I called dibs or anything.”

Her pout stretched into a smile and she clapped him on the back, “Oh, you do know me don’t you!”

Within moments she had taken up residence on a bench beside Lance as he continued to stare straight ahead, probably watching the balls roll across the felt. Keith did too anyway, from the opposite side of the table.

Keith finished her drink without realizing and noticed she’d never even taken his.

His tasted better.

He finished that one too.

At some point during the evening someone very tall came in and took Lance’s spot in the game and Jenny’s attention.

Ah, the elusive Lo, Keith thought to himself, eyeing the guy who’d come in.

Now, Lo was also attractive, but somehow had thrown off less of a…presence.

It was strange.

But then, Keith was drunk.

So what did it matter?

He caught Lance’s eye across the table, noticed how the dark blue t-shirt was just a little tight on his shoulders and made Keith want to walk over and shove his face into the mans chest.

Ridiculous.

Drunk.

Had Jenny’s cup had whiskey? That would have been a problem.

Lance pat his hand down on the empty bench space beside him and nodded to Keith. Keith blinked at him, then at his two empty cups, then at his imaginary impulse control, and decided, “…why not.”

He stood up, probably a little shakily if he was honest, and wandered over to Lance before slumping into the seat he’d been offered, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

It was quiet save for the strangers talking and the snapping of a pool stick against ceramic.

“So your friend Jenny was telling me about you,” Lance started with a little bit of a smile. Something Keith had already seen plenty of so he was aware of the restraint in the expression.

“Was she now?”

“Yeah.”

“And yet you still asked me to sit with you.”

“Oh did I do that?”

“Oh did I read that wrong?”

“No.”

Keith didn’t miss a beat, “Then own it.”

Lance grinned, a severe degree less restraint in the show of teeth, “I wanted you to sit with me.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

Jenny came by, particularly chipper as things seemed to be going well with Lo who was standing to the side chatting with Thace and Regris while a few of the still unnamed strangers had separated into other groups around the yard.

“Do you smoke Lance?” Jenny asked. “I know Keith doesn’t so—”

Lance made a funny croaking noise, like Jenny had just made a bad joke and he was trying to humor her, “No. No. That’s just Reg.”

Keith decided to keep the little mental fanfare from playing in his face. He’d never kissed someone who smoked cigarettes, but he didn’t like the smell and wasn’t inclined to it.

Jenny was about to say something, tapping a pen on Lance’s shoulder (godddd those shoulders) when Regris and the other two vaguely named strangers called her over.

“I didn’t mean—Oh alright, you two keep talking, I’ll leave you alone.” She smiled and ran off to the other side of the yard with the guys.

She’d dropped her pen onto Lance’s lap.

Keith eyed it and before looking up at Lance who shrugged and was about to reach for it, put it on one of the tiny tables on either side of them, when Keith’s hand shout out first.

With the pen now at his disposal, he pulled off the cap with his teeth and grabbed Lance’s arm with his free hand, “I feel like drawing.”

That awkward amused grin was back on Lance’s face and Keith had no idea how to describe how that stupid smile, when registered for what it really was, did ridiculous things to his heart.

“You like to draw?” Lance offered.

Keith made a non-committal noise and started to pen little stars around the freckles on his arm.

“He loves it!” Jenny announced, running back over while the guys started to wander into the house. Neither Keith nor Lance seemed to notice or care that the yard was slowly emptying.

Keith was more distracted by the fingers lightly laying on his thigh as he drew down the man’s arm. Probably would have cared about the fact she was outing him like that otherwise.

“Here, I have a blue one too.” She grinned, “In case he wants an option.” She offered another pen to Lance who smiled good naturedly at her but otherwise didn’t move much for fear of disturbing the little doodle artist.

It was a few minutes later that Keith raised his head from his makeshift canvas and realized most of the yard was empty.

“Where is everyone?”

Lance looked just passed Keith’s head and let out a long slightly high pitched noise, “I… have no idea.”

“Should we go find them?”

“Do you want to?”

“…Not really.”

Lance huffed out a laugh through his nose and raised his hand up toward the yard light, just to see what Keith had drawn.

“Nice. Like a tattoo.”

“The crappiest pen tattoo. Yup.”

“Your turn?”

Keith blinked at him, then at the pen in Lance’s other hand and laughed outright, “Oh. You want to draw on me now?”

Lance arched an eyebrow, (a very nicely formed eyebrow too. But there was no way this guy went out and got them done, right?) “Well it’s only fair isn’t it?”

Keith scrunched up his face and looked thoughtfully up at the yard awning above their heads that was blocking the night sky from view.

“Who said I wanted to be fair.”

Lance laughed again and it made Keith wither in his seat a little, made him want to be compliant. Made him want to make the other happy.

Too much to drink. Probably. For sure. Right?

“Well!” Lance chuckled, “How about I only draw a little, and you can keep working on mine?”

Keith would have said yes regardless, so he offered Lance his hand, “Have at it.”

Lance drew stars too. Equipped with swirls of space dust and crude little ringed planets.

Keith added detail to his night sky, shading and adjusting the “sketch” here and there. Lance giggled occasionally, the pen apparently tickling his skin. Keith wasn’t ticklish, but he did like the way Lance’s palm pressed against his arm as he drew.

When they did eventually walk through the house in search of the rest of the party they didn’t find them. They went out to the front yard, to see if the cars were there, but all vehicles were accounted for.

Keith wasn’t sure what was going on, but Lance pieced it together when he noticed one of the cars had very dull music playing. The window tint made it difficult to see in the dark, but there were definitely people inside.

“That kind of smoking. Damn.” Lance scoffed, motioning toward the car.

Keith finally noticed it then and realized quite suddenly what Jenny had said earlier, “…She thinks I don’t smoke?”

Lance blinked at him. Keith blinked back and then offered him an awkward laugh, “You can forget I said that.”

“Sure.”

“So now what?”

Lance glanced at the packed car, shrugged his shoulder and then motioned for a car parked across the street, “Wanna listen to music?”

“Sure.”

Keith would later try to blame the alcohol for what happened next. When Lance took his hand and pulled him across the street, reaching into his pocket for his car keys. Lance didn’t get the chance to pull them out because Keith had tugged on his hand and turned him around to face him.

Keith stepped forward and Lance stepped back until his own car blocked him in.

Keith wrapped his arms around Lance’s neck, waiting for some kind of confirmation.

He got it in the form of Lance’s arms around his waist and a smile that was so very soft.

Hopeful.

An expression Keith remembered having worn himself, on occasion.

He probably wore it now.

Lance’s eyes were very pretty.

Calming.

Safe.

Lance was a stranger but somehow he was also… home.

These arms kept him stable, covered in little ink stars to match the ones on Keith’s own skin.

When he kissed Lance that night he’d blame it on the alcohol. He’d tell himself it was a one time thing. No big deal.

It wasn’t like Lance’s lips were the softest things he’d ever felt and that his warmth didn’t envelop him and take him somewhere so far away his problems felt so small. It wasn’t like standing there against the little blue sedan in the middle of the night was the closest Keith had ever been to whole.

He’ll tell himself, when they crawl into the car together and end up do nothing more than holding hands and listening to music and telling each other little anecdotes, that it meant nothing.

He’ll tell himself for weeks that he’d been an idiot to type his number into Lance’s phone, that Lance would get tired of him and that it just wouldn’t work out.

He’ll tell himself for months, when he has Lance in his arms almost nightly, that it’s not love.

It’s not love. It’s not love.

He’s not stupid enough to put himself through that again. No.

When Lance tells him how important he is, how special, how…

“God, Kitten, I knew you were mine the moment I saw you.”

It’s not…

“You’re joking right?”

“Okay, you’re right, my first thought was, “who the fuck am I? who the fuck are YOU?” But somewhere between you being a giant psycho and you telling everyone the wrong name I decided. This one. This one is definitely mine.”

“…”

“With your greasy mullet and your pajama top and your attitude.”

“…”

“Definitely all mine.”

Fuck.

“I think…”

“Yeah, Keith?”

“…I think it’s your turn to pick the show tonight.”

“Sure.”

....

.... .... ....

.... .... .... .... ....

When Keith does say he loves him it’s two cups in, Jenny’s number blowing up Lance’s phone, and from the comfort of Lance’s lap.

After the first half a dozen times he says it Lance kisses him so hard he can’t catch his breath. But he still says it hundreds of times that night. Desperate. Because the words really aren’t enough to convey what Lance really does to him. He cries the words against Lance’s lips time and time again. Says them into his neck when he’s buried his face there, trying to breath him in. Says them against his chest as if the closer proximity to his heart will mean something.

He says the stupid word so much it starts to sound synonymous to Lance’s name.

Lance doesn’t say them back.

Keith tells himself it’s because Lance is afraid of the same things he was. He’s afraid to feel things as strongly as Keith let himself that night. He tells himself that. Lance pursued him. Lance chose him. Lance wanted him.

Lance wouldn’t kiss him like that, hold him like that, make him feel like that if it didn’t mean something in the end.

That’s what he tells himself.

He doesn’t need the words. Because Lance’s actions speak for themselves.

And maybe this is the reality where Keith gets to be right.

And maybe this is the reality Jenny was just a being a good friend.

[heyitstesagain]

Meeting G Malkmus

30th December, 2017. Saturday, I received an anonymous like on this app, which I re- downloaded on my phone, that same night I did say hi, however didn’t hear back, so I went sleeping, after speaking to couple of those other gross people, oh and one of those bunch of peeps asked me if I’m on it to have some warmth during the winter, “warmth,” Seriously??, who talks like that, that man is a manager at a Chelsea Pizzaria, an Italian male, (eww, Italians who are into family and all, you know, guhh) who apparently was or still is in attempt to provide winter warmth to bunch of those desperate females in their 30s I guess, anywho, let’s not drag it along too much, let’s get back to focusing on G, let me refresh your memory who that is, it is that man who just liked me randomly thinking I’m a cutie, even though I revealed I’m 4’11″, and do not want children, men, huh?! And creatures that they like?!

So then the next morning, December 31, a sunny funny cozy Sunday, I was sleeping just fine and around 10.30 in the morning he said “Hey Tes, are ya originally from New York?! Hmm?! I wonder why would he ask me that?

I just said: Hi?! I evaluated these two possibilities or three, well I’m a non- white woman and from New York, so that’s usually the first question you’d get from out of towners and that’s to generate an answer to find out when did you actually immigrated to the United States? That was case one, then second was the fact, that some of those pictures that I’ve put up on that app was my recent visit to the Netherlands, he might have seen those and wanted to know if I live here or visiting, because men apparently can control their emotions based on the fact whether the female is a visitor or a locale?! Men, huh, in general?! In their entirety?!

Thirdly, which was apparently the reason he fell for me was if I indeed was born and raised in New York, because growing up at a suburban mid western town this kid has imagined himself of being born and raised in New York City?! Did he? You know how that goes with the indie/ alternative lovers, people that listened to the Velvet Underground growing up, would wanna troll Lou Reed, and at this point I’m pretty sure he legit tried to think about coming up with another soup container like Campbell like Warhol, since he’s by trade into mechanical or technical drawing?! Based on this third hypothesis: I’d say he wanted to know if I am indeed a New York breed, body and soul, full- fleshed, rigid walking and talking?! Or may be because he felt that I like him for being him? As he sensed that, or may be its familiar pain? Would I ever know? Or may be he felt that, I’m way too artistic for a non artist? And that’s his thing?  

And the exact idea of me, all of a sudden will start seeming too good be true?! As if: a non white, 30yo, NewYork woman from Queens would know Baumbach and religiously watch everything that Wes Anderson has ever done and also think of you legit resemble Mike Mills (creatively & in congruity) now that’s an anomaly?!

Well now getting back to how I responded to his asking if I’m from here, “originally?”

 “Yeah!” Short and simple, honestly I didn’t know he will write me back, came unexpected?! Why did he?!

Was that because he has devalued himself with time for the past 18 months, otherwise why would someone this talented, who makes these paintings⬇️⬇️

full of ethics and integrity and apparently intensely good-looking without even knowing have dared to write a low- life like this female, which is me, why?!

We will get back to that shortly, but then I thought, it’s Sunday morning, why did I have to go say “hi” in the first place on a Saturday night, that would generate a response kind of obvious and now I’ve to keep talking to him, so I prohibited myself from saying anything after that “yeah,” as in I’m originally from New York, for some reason later around the mid afternoon, I asked:

T: You?

G: I’m from Fort Wayne, Indiana, came to New York to make films and paint, and not be bored, Indiana is boring!

T: Okay

G: What do you do?

T: I just work

G: No I mean like for fun? Movies, or bars, or sports, or weed, or whatever?

T: I watch a lot of movies, I get paranoid with weed, and I’m an awful drinker, I sleep for fun?! Being lazy is kind of fun?!

(Wasn’t really liking him as much, and was wondering why he kept talking? On a Sunday, December 31, when guys are busy making plans for the eve), however; he responded with something which piqued my interest a little further… which goes:

G: Lol, yeah I agree with that. I’ve watched 5 movies this weekend already (inside my head, I was like, omg, I do that by the time it’s Sunday, did I meet my soul mate? ) I don’t usually watch THIS (now he does that, text in all caps to emphasize the expression/ or moment) much, but it’s fucking cold out (like oh my god, does he think that it’s civilized, and not un- hip to stay home and watch movies and not talking to people and not do activities, i. e. gym, laundry, ice- fucking- skating, rock- climbing, upstate- hiking, might have really met my souls mate, a home-body? The rarest breed in men to find, I haven’t met one before)

T: Yep, so are you not doing anything tonight?

G: I’ve a big freelance job I’ve to do tonight, you?

T: I’m not doing anything, which I don’t usually majority of the time? What kind of freelancing?

G:Video editing, I also sometimes do writing and graphic design.

What kind of thing are you looking here on KosherAllegory (I mythicized the name of the app in here, “cliched” much?!)

T: I don’t know yet, what about ya? ( I might have come off standoff- ish and non- chalant, but was not on purpose, I promise, never honestly didn’t or still don’t believe in app, however, I met my soul mate in here, him?!)

G: Hopefully a girlfriend, but not forcing it, sometimes it’s just fun to meet new people (okay so he isn’t going anywhere with me, it’s just fun to meet new people, just passing time, chatting by?!!)

T: okay, has anything ever turned serious off of here?

G: yes, I had a serious thing with a girl I’ve met on here a few years ago, when that ended I eventually used it again and met some cool people but nothings gotten too serious. Are you new to KosherAllegory?

T: Well I have it on my phone, but honestly I never use it, not finding anyone worth chatting that’s all?!

G: Oh cool, well I feel lucky then, would it be easier to just text message?

T: yeah

He then left his number and I started texted him, should of just shut it right there, right then, but I didn’t and we kept talking for three weeks before meeting on January 18th, it was a Thursday, and was extremely cold out, we both felt that our souls just connected and physically we were like those two missing pieces of a Jigsaw puzzle?!

Ironically, both our mothers had left us at a time when they were not supposed to, at a point when we would struggle forever and keep looking for a shelter, and would keep looking for them and mess up our entirety to just find that soul thats never tired of being unsatisfied?! And also we both are or have been estranged from our fathers, it’s like we have found each other!!! He’s that ugly feet twin of mine?!

& then we lost each other again, I’m on this train on my way home, it’s March 23rd, 2018, another Friday, 6.54 PM, I’m on an F train, super uncertain that I’ll ever get to see G again?!

As I’m typing away, he’s just a week away from packing up his life of last 6/7 years that’s spent in here and moving back home, near Fort Wayne, Indiana?!!!

True, he never was around, but in a way he was, in my soul, around me, beneath me, above me, all over me and in my thoughts and in my existence, people say true longing always comes back, I’d never know now of how much of that’ll ever be true but I’ll rather just have to see it through… ???!!!

Until the end of this universe?! Haha, joke?! That even a bad one, but you’ll laugh at it, only ya (paraphrased from “here,”<PAVEMENT>my only fav song from your indie man)

Caution & Trigger Warning:

I’ve exclusively used materials and pictures without permission, might get sued for violating privacy and also violation of someone’s copyright of 2017!

[protectjugheadjonesiii]

The Fourth Musketeer (Part 3)

Part one here    Part two here

Requests: I love part 1 and 2 of The Fourth Musketeer!! Are you going to make a part 3?

Part 3 pls? For the four musketeers I'm really loving it.

WHERE IS FOURTH MUSKETEER PART 3 IM DYING TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

Ahhhhhhhhh, The fourth Musketeer series is sooooo good 😍😍 I can't wait for part 3 😭💕

I need part 3 of 4m please

OMFG I NEED A PART 3 OF THE 4 MUSKETEERS !.!! Its SOO AMAZING

OMG I just read the second part of the Fourth Musketeer. It's amazing!!! I already want more! Love your work darling ❤❤

More fourth musketeer please god 💖🙏

Part 3 of the Four Musketeers PLEASE, it's so freaking good. It makes me feel all the feels and I'm in love with your writing

Pairing: Archie x Reader

Description: Unplanned reunions never end well.

Warnings: I cried while writing this

Word count: 1,536

A/N: just a reminder to all, if you want to be added to my taglist please ask in my ask box! anywho wowow buckle your seatbelts for the emotional roller coaster that is part 3!! enjoy!!

(Y/N) obliviously stood at the counter in Pop's, unaware of three sets of unwavering eyes staring at her.

"Should we... say something?" Betty suggested, but she didn't shift her gaze from (Y/N).

"I don't know," Veronica breathed.  "I probably shouldn't since she has no idea who I am."

"I'll do it," Jughead stated.  Before Veronica or Betty could acknowledge what he said, Jughead had stood up and began to walk towards (Y/N).  The two girls shared a tentative glance.  "Long time no see, (Y/N)," Jughead said from behind her.  She whirled around.

"Jughead," she acknowledged him, her lips forming an awkward smile.  "It's... nice to see you."

"God it's been so long," Jughead sighed, stepping closer to (Y/N).  She tried to inconspicuously edge away.

"Yeah," she nodded and pursed her lips.  Jughead was taken aback by her cold behavior.

"Does anyone else know you're here?" he questioned.  (Y/N) shook her head.

"Nope," she answered simply, "just you."

"And Betty," Jughead added, gesturing back to where Veronica and Betty were sitting.  When they noticed (Y/N) was looking at them, they smiled and waved. (Y/N)'s focus turned back to Jughead.

"Who's that with her?" she asked.

"Veronica," he explained, "she moved here at the beginning of the year."

"That's nice," another awkward smile formed on her lips.  Suddenly, a waiter brought out a bag of food.  (Y/N) grabbed the bag and quickly paid.  "Well, I've gotta get going. It's been nice seeing you again, Jughead."  She started to exit the diner, but Jughead quickly snatched her wrist.

"Wait!" he said, earning a questioning look from her.  "What about Archie?"

"What about Archie?" (Y/N) innocently repeated.  Jughead rolled his eyes.

"You know," he responded, "are you going to tell him you're back?"

"Why should I?" (Y/N) scoffed.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because he's fucking smitten with you and has been heartbroken for the past two years.  And if I'm not mistaken, you were pretty smitten yourself before you moved." (Y/N) bit her lip as she shook her head.

"If he loved me, he would've called," she rolled her eyes.

"What happened to you?" Jughead asked, scanning her face.  (Y/N) snapped her wrist out of his grip.

"Nothing happened, Jughead."

"There's another thing," he noted.  "Since when have you called me Jughead?"

"My food is getting cold," she made up an excuse.

"Archie said you changed your number."  The sentence knocked the wind out of (Y/N), so she stood in silence as she stared at Jughead.

"I changed it," she finally admitted it. "But that was a few months after I left."

"Why?" he inquired.

"Because he didn't call me," she sighed.  "Even when I called him, he wouldn't answer."  Jughead furrowed his eyebrows.  (Y/N) shook her head as she left the diner.

She called over her shoulder, "Don't tell Archie I'm back."

“She expects you to not tell him?” Veronica questioned the next day at school.  Jughead shrugged.

“But I get it, you know?” Betty responded.  “She wants to be the one to tell him she’s back, not have someone do it on her behalf.”

“If she tells him,” Veronica reminded her.

“Listen, just… don’t tell him, okay?” Jughead told Veronica.  “I told (Y/N) I wouldn’t, and I don’t want to upset her.  She seemed kinda off yesterday.”

“So she’s not normally like that?” Veronica questioned with a hint of sarcasm.  Jughead rolled his eyes.

“Not when I knew her.”

“Okay, so (Y/N)’s gotta have some flaws, right?” Veronica asked Archie as she sat across from him in the lounge.  He narrowed his eyes.

“What?” he confusedly mumbled.  “Why are you asking about (Y/N)?”

“Well, Archiekins,” Veronica bit her lip, “you’ve seemed more down ever since Jughead’s party.  I figured it was something having to do with (Y/N).  I’m asking you about her flaws because right now, it seems like you’re kind of glorifying her in your memories, you know?  Since she hasn’t been around, you only want to remember the good parts of her.”

“I don’t know,” Archie waved off her suggestion.  “I really don’t want to talk about her.”

“But you have to,” Veronica immediately replied.  “Betty, Jughead, and Kevin told me about her and how you absolutely refused to mention her after she moved.”

“It’s a coping method,” he defended himself.  She shook her head.

“It’s unhealthy.”

“Veronica, stop!” Archie yelled, exasperatedly throwing his hands up in the air.  “You know why I can’t tell you any of (Y/N)’s flaws?  Because I love her.  And when you love someone, when you truly love someone, their flaws aren’t something you notice.  Their flaws are just another cute quirk that you adore, and I love everything there is about (Y/N).”  A smile creeped onto Veronica’s face, causing Archie to twist his face into a puzzled expression.  “What?”

“You love her,” she grinned, but Archie remained confused. “You love her, Archiekins.  Not loved, love.”  Archie rolled his eyes, but it didn’t hide his growing smile. Veronica stood up, brushing down her pencil skirt.  “My job here is done.  Keep an eye on your phone, Archiekins.  I’m gonna send you a very important message soon.”

An extremely confused Archie walked into Pop’s, and he continued to double check the text that Veronica sent him:

Go to Pop’s tonight.  Trust me.

She said nothing about meeting her there, nor did she mention anything about what he was supposed to do at the diner.  He scanned the area, searching for a familiar face.  His eyes landed on a face that was more familiar than he expected.

“(Y/N)?” he whispered, staring at the girl sitting all alone in a booth.  She, having not heard Archie’s murmur, continued to stare at her phone. “(Y/N)!”  Archie said it louder this time, and (Y/N)’s head snapped up. Her eyes doubled in size as she stared at her old childhood friend.  Slowly, she stood up and began to walk towards Archie.

“Archie?” she asked, stepping closer to him with an unreadable expression on her face.  He grinned and nodded.

“Oh god, (Y/N), I thought I’d never see you again.  I thought that-” A sharp slap across his face interrupted him.  Archie’s mouth opened slightly ajar as he stared at (Y/N), subdued into shock.

“Fuck you, Archie,” she spat.  Archie noticed tears glimmering in her eyes.  “No calls, no texts, no emails, nothing!  Absolutely nothing!”

“(Y/N), I-”

“And you act like you’re the victim,” she interrupted him, refusing to grant him the chance to defend himself.  “You told Jughead and Betty that I changed my number?  And you didn’t mention that I called you countless times, only for you to never answer.”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” he apologized, slowly grabbing her hands.  She didn’t tear them away from his grip, but Archie could feel her muscles tense.  “You know why I didn’t answer your calls?  Because it hurt.  It hurt because I thought I’d never see you again, and I thought that if I heard your voice, it would just make the pain worse.  I thought that maybe if I didn’t talk to you, if I pretended like you never existed, then maybe I could move on.”

“You think it didn’t hurt me?” (Y/N) questioned, her voice cracking as she held back her tears.  “You think it didn’t hurt every time I called my best friend but never got an answer?  You think it didn’t hurt when I was alone with my parents in a big city with no one to turn to?  You think it didn’t hurt when I couldn’t call for help when I needed it?”  Her voice gradually raised as she spoke.  Archie released (Y/N)’s hands, and instead, he opted to cup her face.  He leaned in and did something he had been dying to do for the past four years: he kissed her.  Archie tried to pour every ounce of love he had for (Y/N) into the kiss, he tried to tell her the things he was unable to say.  However, (Y/N) pulled away.  She took a step away from Archie as she frowned at him, her tears finally stumbling down her face.

“Why did you do that?” she cried softly.

“Because I love you,” Archie desperately answered.  He attempted to reach out towards her and hold her in his arms, but (Y/N) stepped further away.  “I love you, and I have always loved you.  I never got the chance to tell you.”

“You can’t do that to me,” she tried to wipe away her tears, but they were flowing too quickly.  “You can’t just barge in here and confess your love after you completely ignored me!”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), it was stupid and selfish of me, but-”

“But nothing!” she stopped his apology.  (Y/N) brushed past Archie as she began to storm out of the diner, but before she could exit, Archie grabbed her wrist, forcing her to turn around.

“One thing, (Y/N). Can you please just answer one question for me?” he begged.  (Y/N) pursed her lips but nodded.  “Do you love me?”

“Archie, you can’t just-”

“Please, (Y/N),” his voice was meek and desperate.  She sighed, but slowly nodded.

“Of course,” she whispered. She gently wriggled her hand out of his grasp and exited the diner, leaving a heartbroken Archie behind.

Part four here     Part five here

Tag list: @isis278 @lost-in-wonderland-x @spam-to-follow @thatspidernamedmeagan @isabellarose5150 @mariadrinaa @amyyleblanc1999 @sweetvengeancee @latenightbooknerd @sweetthoughts-of-insanity @icouldntcomeupwithausername123 @britishfancyturtlebraindead @sxazzaxs @fragilefrances @opiate-this-hazy-head @onceuponagladerhead  @sarahvaliquette @deanskitten

Tags for this fic: @twilight-loveer @courageouslystupid @spirit-witch-the-shadowhunter

[therealimpala67]

Hung Up

A/N: Hey guys it’s been for freaking ever in a day!!!  I’m so sorry about not updating in literally a god damn year as many excuses as I have I can’t using them as an excuses!!!  Anywho I’ve been working on this fic for over a year and every chance I got to write, I always had to stuff to do, I was tiree, or I got writer’s block (which is fucking annoying by the way). I dont know why I finally got my groove back tonight of all nights but I had to take advantage of it because I was on a roll and had to stay up to finish it.  I really am proud of this 1 and while I miss writing smut (I promise I’ll do a smutty fic next) I just loved the prompt and thought it writing it through Crowley’s pov would be fucking hysterical!!!  So here ya go peeps!!!  Hope you enjoy and please, please, PLEASE, feel free to give me feedback of any kind because we all know I need it!!!  I love you guys so much and am glad to be back!!!  :D

Here’s the prompt: Prompt:  Crowley calling Dean to talk to him about some business but then hears your voice in the background. 

8 hours, 8 fucking hours you’ve been attempting to get in touch with them now and by them you mean, those bloody Winchesters.  All of hell knew that you were practically besties, let’s face it.  You were constantly working together and while you have your moments: fighting and almost killing each other because of the whole Heaven, Hell, Winchester feud, you’ve definitely grown to hate them a little less, even though you didn’t want to admit it; however, this doesn’t excuse their actions; I mean, honestly, how hard was it to answer the damn phone?!  You kind of expected this type of move from Moose, considering his girly haired head was always shoved in a book but not from Squirrel, you have each other on speed dial after Demon Dean days and you were feeling a wee bit fed up by their lack of attentiveness.  You could only angrily pace around hell’s premises and take your anger out on your henchmen for so long before waiting for a response.  You felt like a bloody school girl waiting for the boy next door to ask you out.  You decided to check and see if your daughter Y/N was home in the meantime, you haven’t heard much from her lately and she always knew how to take your mind off of these things.  You walked down the corridor to her room, knocking on the door.  No answer.  Strange.  You knocked again a little more impatiently this time.  She couldn’t have snuck out, she knows better than to disobey your rules.  Finally you decided to force the door open, you’ll replace it later, and realized that your precious angel wasn’t there!  

You were steaming at this point now trying to get in touch with her and just like those damn Winchesters, no fucking answer!  Why the hell is it so damn hard to answer a bloody phone call?!  Do people not know who you are, yet alone what you’re capable of?!  Just as you were about to start a manhunt for your little girl, your phone beeped.  You immediately swiped left and discovered a text from Y/N:

“Stayed over at Grannie’s.  Will be home later tonight for dinner, love you!” You knew you raised her right and while you’re relieved knowing where she’s at, you always questioned why she loves her grandmother so much.  Even though you hated your mother for not being the mum you always needed growing up, at least she was able to be for your daughter.  When she first found out about Y/N, she was definitely stunned to say the least saying she never expected her little Fergus to successfully procreate and despite knowing your mother abandoned you and her history with the Coven, Y/N made quite the impression and just as you first fell for her, so did your mother, who had a lot of lost time to make up for.  While you both had different parenting views over your daughter, Y/N always made it very clear that you were a family and that it was high time you started acting like one so you both put aside your grudges for her, at least while she was there.  You left her room walking back to your throne room when your phone started buzzing.  

Would you look at that: Dean Winchester, it was about bloody time!  You exhaled loudly as you clicked the answer button preparing for the inevitable conversation. 

“Only 9 hours late, Squirrel.  Were you busy stocking up on nuts for the winter,” you taunted.

“Ya know some of us need this thing called sleep, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it before,” Dean groggily remarked.

“I don’t care if you’re on your bloody death bed, you answer when I damn well call,” you hissed throwing a wine glass shattering it against the brick wall.  Your guards awkwardly stared before quickly showing themselves out, smart.

“Yes dear,” Dean sarcastically rebuttled.

“Don’t sass me,” you growled, “That’s Moose’s job and you are well aware that it’s around noon.”

“And,” Dean yawned as he got up and put on his robe leaving his room. “And normal humans like yourself are up around this time doing something somewhat more counter productive than laying around,” you lectured.

“Look I had a late night last night,” Dean sighed as he walked into the kitchen and started making coffee, “So please spare me the lecture.”

“The point is I’ve been calling you and Moose the past 9 hours straight to no avail until now when you suddenly decide to be available to your own liking not mine and if it obviously wasn’t important,” you started.

“God damn it then Crowley, get to the god damn point,” Dean barked slamming his fist roughly on the counter accidentally causing a coffee mug to slide off and shatter on the floor, “Son of a bitch!”

“You know, I don’t like your attitude Winchester,” you stated very matter of factly while Dean was trying to clean up the mess from the shattered coffee cup, “All I’m trying to do is relay some important information that could potentially help you and Moose stop Amara and this is what I get?  I’m going to make this very quick and hope that your acorn sized brain can understand everything…”

“Yea yea yea,” Dean ignored before hearing footsteps approaching the kitchen, “Hey give me a sec.  Sammy just found a case,” he halted you before you could continue and quickly hit the mute button and put his phone in his robe pocket.   You have got to be bloody kidding me.  Doesn’t he know by know that nobody puts the King of Hell on hold?  You’re not their booty call and the fact that he’s treating you as such infuriates you even more.  You sigh in frustration angrily drumming your fingers against the arm of your throne hoping that he makes it quick because you’re a very busy man with a kingdom to rule.

“Hey is everything alright,” a feminine voice asked in concern.  

Didn’t he mute you and as much as you joke about Moose’s girlishness that voice sounds way to feminine to be Moose.  Very strange indeed but you proceeded to listen in since you had the opportunity.

“Just a broken coffee mug, everything’s fine.  Sorry baby I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Dean apologized before the woman wrapped her arms around his neck.

Baby?  That’s what he meant by late night, he brought home some hussy and showed her his “family business.”  Repulsed by the thought you shook your head in disgust while trying to remain as quiet as possible to continue your eavesdropping.

“Don’t worry about it,” she smiled as she started pressing light kisses along his neckline, “I’ve woken up to way worse, trust me and I’m just glad you’re okay.  Are you hurt anywhere,” she asked checking up and down to see if there were any cuts on Dean’s body. “Not at all and you know I’m tough,” he chuckled before nibbling gently on your earlobe as she sighed in pleasure, “Although I don’t mind playing doctor again,” he winked as he squeezed your breasts in his hands as she moaned and threw her head back..

You rolled your eyes, he’s like a horny teenage boy trying to get into some girl’s pants with cheesy one liners.  

“Just call me Dr. Sexy,” she grinned as she untied his robe, “And based off of that phone call, you sound pretty stressed so I’m ordering you to bed rest for the rest of the day,” you trailed your fingers all the way down his chest stopping right above his package. 

There was something familiar about this woman’s voice and you just couldn’t put your finger on it.  Maybe because it was so muffled and couldn’t hear much of what she was saying but you were kind of curious as to who this mystery woman was that has Squirrel so wrapped around her finger. 

 Dean bit back a moan and and wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you closer, “Oh sweetheart, as much as I’d like that Crowley has some news about possibly stopping Amara.”

“Psh yea right,” she scoffed while scratching her nails down his back, “He’s just telling you that in hopes that you could do his dirty work for him and he can take all the credit.  Believe me, I know how my dad works.”

“Very true the fact that he still hasn’t caught onto us yet is pretty fucking hysterical if you ask me,” Dean grinned as he squeezed your breasts in his hands as she moaned and threw her head back.

Who hasn’t caught onto what yet?  You suddenly had a very bad feeling about eavesdropping onto this conversation.

“I told him I was staying with Grannie Rowena and he fell for it hook, line, and sinker,” she giggled as Dean slid his hands down her hips resting on her clothed pussy, “Daddy’s overbearingly overprotective but he’s also very gullible.  The only way he’d ever find out about us is if he overheard us or saw us which I doubt will ever happen.”

That better not be who you bloody think it is.  You’ve never prayed a day in life up until this moment but for the love of Chuck please don’t be…

“Hey Y/N,” Dean smirked wiggling his eyebrows at you while slamming your back against the fridge as you gasped at the roughness, “Who’s your daddy?” 

Oh.  Hell.  No.  

Dean was suddenly thrown against the wall and being beat in face repeatedly.

“Y/N,” Dean yelled between each punch, “What the hell is going on?!  So my joke went a little far but is it worth trying to fucking kill me?!”

“Are you bloody serious right now,” she yelled in disgust as she kept slamming her fist into his face, “Out of all the people you decide to boink right now you choose my fucking daughter you bloody cocksucker,” her eyes flashed red.

“Oh fuck,” Dean gasped in realization, “Crowley.”

“Damn right it’s me in here,” you spoke through her vessel.

“Crowley this has gone too fucking far man,” Dean projected.

“This has gone too fucking far,” you scoffed in disbelief, “You’re seriously going to accuse me of going too far when you’ve been sleeping with my god damn daughter?!”

“Look Crowley I can explain,” Dean started before you grabbed him by the throat lifting him up so his feet were dangling.

“Explain what,” you hissed, “That you’re using my little girl for your own sick, twisted pleasure?!  I know you Dean Winchester, I know your type, I know your life.  You’re just a play boy looking for a new toy until you get tired of it and toss it aside like trash!  Your life never allows for settling down, yet alone happy endings, look at your bloody family and the rest of your loved ones you let die!”

 “Don’t you dare speak for her,” Dean coughed out his face starting to turn purple, “She’s an adult Crowley and can make her own decisions, including who she wants to be with!  Let her out to speak for herself and we’ll talk this out!”

“Like hell we will,” you spat out in rage, “She’s my little girl Dean!  If you think for one second I’m going to let you use or hurt her you’ve got another thing coming!  I’m not letting you put her in more danger than she’s already in being my daughter and if that means staying in her vessel the rest of time I damn well will!”

“Well I’m not going to let you use her and destroy her fucking life just because I’m in love with her,” Dean professed.  A tear slid down her face and her grip slowly loosened as Dean fell onto the floor gasping for breaths.  You felt her fighting back for control as you increased your restrains. 

 “I’m in love with your daughter.  I know I’m not worthy of her; hell, I don’t come fucking close but she’s the greatest woman I’ve ever met and the best thing that’s ever happened to me!   Look I get it, she’s your little girl and I have no idea what that’s like but I would do absolutely anything for her: die, go back to hell or purgatory, lose my soul, face you, you name it!  I just want what’s best for her and for her to be happy whether it’s with or without me and even though I’m scared outta my fucking mind I’ve never wanted something so much in my entire life!  So don’t think for one second I’ll ever stop loving her, because I won’t so please just let her out.”

God damn it.  He gave a fucking romantic speech and everything and you can feel your daughter coming undone.  It was only a matter of seconds before she broke free of your control.  You quickly fled her vessel and quickly transferred back to yours and poofed back into the bunker.

“Dean is what all you said true,” she asked still in complete and utter shock over his confession.

“Meant every damn word,” he confessed as she looked over towards you. “Y/N, darling,” you started.

“Don’t,” you stopped him, “I’m talking now.  I really should hate your guts your taking advantage of me like that.”

You looked down.  This was the moment you were always afraid of: the one where you pushed your one and only daughter away.

“But I won’t,” she sighed, “ Look daddy I know that you’re just looking out for me but I’m a grown woman and can take care of myself now and just because I’m growing up doesn’t mean I’m not your little girl anymore and that I won’t need you anymore.  I love him so much daddy.  Will you please give him a chance?”

“You’re not little mermaiding me right now.  I don’t want you dating a bloody Winchester and that’s final,” you order before she looks up at, “Don’t you dare give me the hell hound eyes.”

“Please daddy, for me,” she begs.

You’ve always been the one to give your little girl any and every thing she’s ever wanted and even though the thought of Squirrel being romantically with your daughter completely and utterly disgusts you…

“Fine,” you admit begrudgingly under your breath.

“What was that,” she grins, “I couldn’t hear you under your complete and utter defeat.”

 “Don’t make repeat myself Y/N,” you counter back as you walk over to Dean, “I will be doing routinely visits to see if you’re treating her to my liking.  Oh and if you hurt her in anyway shape or form Squirrel I swear Amara and Lucifer will be the least of your worries,” you quietly threatened before looking over at your daughter, “I expect you at dinner tonight.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she smiles as she walks over to you and gives you a hug, “I love you daddy, thank you for everything.” Normally you would show more affection around your daughter but you had to keep your King of Hell persona up.

“See you at home,” you departed and poofed back to your lair.

“So that was a thing,” Dean stated uncomfortably.

“Yep,” she sighed in relief as she walked over to him and gently caressed his face with her hand, “Man he really got you good.”

“Don’t remind me,” he winced, “You have a killer left hook by the way.”

“Like father like daughter,” you grinned as you grabbed him by the hand leading him to his bedroom, 

“Come on let’s get these patched up, daddy.”

“Oh I’ll show you who’s your daddy baby girl,”Dean smirked as he shuts the door and pushes you onto the bed.

“Hey guys what did I miss OH SWEET CHUCK!” 

[willreadforbooze]

Hello fellow boozie readers!

Sam’s Update:

I can officially say that I’m in my 30s… happy birthday to me!! We also went to ALA, which is like BookCon but so much more chill. As of this posting, I’m probably still there, since it ends today at 2pm. Anywho, I’ve been in more of a Netflix mood, not a reading mood, but here you go.

What Sam finished this week:

The Wicked King by Holly Black: Welp, coulda called that one. Jude is still so dumb. But I enjoyed listening to this.

What Sam’s reading now:

  Kingdom of the Blazing Phoenix by Julie C. Dao: Literally just started it, btu this is the follow up to Forest of a Thousand Lanterns reviewed here.

The Simoquin Prophecies by Samit Basu: Book club book. Reserving all comment until bookclub is over.

Ginny’s Update:

This is a judgement free zone (if you like to ignore the fact that reviews are pretty much pure judgment, in this case I mean no one is gonna judge me). Lots of romance novels again. Plus I had a fun thing happen this weekend where I was too dizzy to function because vertigo is a bitch. Unfortunately I’m a dummy and used that time to sleep instead of read. So, you’re welcome Sam, there aren’t too many covers to find.

Currently Reading:

The Brazen and the Beast by Sarah MacLean: This is one of the ARC’s I got from bookcon. Sarah MacLean is a delight to follow on twitter and writes some really fun heroines. I know Linz didn’t have much luck with the last book, but I am enjoying this one. Hattie has a plan for her year and isn’t gong to let anything get in her way. ‘Beast,’ a moniker that’s labeled as ridiculous in the book, is going to get in her way. All she wants is to take over her father’s shipping business. He has unfinished drama that I’m going to be honest, I don’t super care about at the moment…. 🙂

After the Crown by K.B. Wagers:  I read the first book in this series earlier this year and as the triology is already complete wanted to keep up with it. Hail, who is now empress, is still dealing with the fallout of the attempted coup etc and the case of characters from the previous book is there to help her deal. This is kind of like Firefly meets Star Wars.

Finished Reading:

Luck of the Draw by Kate Clayborn: This was exactly what I thought it would be. The drama was exactly what I thought it would be. Ultimately I still super enjoyed this book as the character growth from hate to friendly to love seemed to make sense. The story happened over weeks and didn’t start at immediate love (I’m kind of sick of “I’ve known this person for five minutes and already I would die for them” story lines). So yes, it was a solid choice. 3.5/5

The Suffragette Scandal by Courtney Milan: Yup, another romance novel. The library blessed me. “Free” runs a newspaper for women that is about as feminist as a newspaper in ye olden dayes can be. Edward Clark was left for dead by his aristocratic family and has adopted a fake name and been a conman for the last oh seven years. He’s trying to protect and old friend and decides to use Free to help. Unfortunately his dick of a brother is going to cause lots o problems. Free was a ton of fun and has a wonderful point of view on things, and I really enjoyed the arguments between her and Edward. He’s so cynical but really well meaning beneath everything else. 4/5.

Unmasked by the Marquess by Cat Sebastian:  I’m not going to bother with a full summary here but this book is fucking wild. Robin, our non-binary hero lives life to the fullest and knows she (I promise this is talked about in the book, I’m not misgendering her) will never get what she truly wants. Because Alistair has a stick up his ass and bumbles his way through anything real because he’s spent too many years trying to ‘fix’ his fathers mistakes. They fall in love and do so much stupid stuff. But honestly this book is a trip. I highly suggest it. 4/5

DNF:

I Love You so Mochi by Sarah Kuhn: I do plan on picking this one back up, but now wasn’t the time. It’s part of the reason I read so much romance is I just really didn’t feel like picking this one up again.

The Tiger at Midnight by Swati Teerdhala: Man, I adored the world of this book. I could read straight up history textbooks about this world. Unfortunately, I really didn’t care for either of the two main characters. I got about 40% of the way in, and didn’t understand why they felt drawn to each other, didn’t care about the contest. I honestly just wanted to learn more about how the original treaties came to be, about how the matriarchal society functioned, what the change was like. I would have read a book set 10 years before this book was placed. I just didn’t care for it. It wasn’t bad, just not the story I wanted it to be.

Minda’s Update:

ALA was amazing! Picked up so many new releases and ARCs.

What Minda finished:

Kingsbane by Claire Legrand – The most feels I’ve had from a book in awhile! I still can’t process everything.

What Minda put down:

Dry by Neal Shusterman and Jarrod Shusterman – Taken back by the library, but honestly I was only like one page in.

What Minda is reading now:

The Simoquin Prophecies by Samit Basu – Book club book, enough said.

Wilder Girls by Rory Power – Just picked this one up from ALA! A school for girls is under quarantine and one of the students is finding answers—mystery and intrigue. Comes out July 9, so hoping to finish before then.

Linz’s Update:

WHY DID WE GO TO ALA WE ARE FASHIONING OURSELVES INTO MONSTERS. I’m officially a book Gollum.

What Linz read:

Stepsister by Jennifer Donnelly: The tiniest of dents has been made in my ARC pile. Minda and I have to have words on this book, because I have some feelings

The Care and Feeding of Ravenously Hungry Girls by Anissa Gray: GIRL WHERE DO I START. This was so damn good, you should all read this immediately. I bought a copy. You can borrow it. Just like start it now.

With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo: If I had known better, I would not have read this and The Care and Feeding in the same week, Jesus Mary and Joseph I cried a lot. Acevedo’s second offering is about a high school senior who is VERY talented at cooking, and struggles to juggle college applications, work, and her toddler daughter. I’m so exhausted that I’m not giving it its due, but this may be one of my favorite books this year. It’s beautiful, balanced, and I’m so glad it exists.

What Linz is reading now:

I’ll be honest, I’ve been trudging away at Jade City, and I think I just picked the wrong time to read it, or maybe it’s just not for me. I’m shelving it tonight and starting…

Swipe Right for Murder: Derek Milman – We picked this up at BookCon and saw it again at ALA. People have been going crazy for it on social media. From Goodreads: “On the run from the FBI. Targeted by a murderous cult. Labeled a cyber-terrorist by the media. Irritated texts from his best friend. Eye contact with a nice-looking guy on the train. Aidan has a lot to deal with, and he’s not quite sure which takes top priority.”

Until next time, we remain forever drunkenly yours,

Sam, Melinda, Linz, and Ginny

Weekly Wrap-Up: June 17-23, 2019 Hello fellow boozie readers! Sam's Update: I can officially say that I'm in my 30s... happy birthday to me!!