#greendale's walls are hard to color

[turkeysandwich]

One Bed

Ian Duncan x Original Male Character

Read here on ao3

Chapter 1/?

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“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, a single shared dorm!?” Alex shouted the second he was sure no one could hear him from the comfort of his car, he had just gotten done with the twice-monthly teacher meeting with the dean.

Apparently the school had been having a shortage of dorms, which aligned terribly with Alex not being able to find a proper apartment in Greendale's county. So of fucking course he had to endure yet another one of the cheap rug pulls of Greendale, Just two and a half more years of this hell, then I’ll be at SCAD, I can do this. He thought to himself, it had always been his dream to be a teacher at the one school he wanted to go to, but never could.

Years before he ever was ever considering being a teacher, he had attended Greendale along with his brother, graduating with a bachelor and going through teaching prep a small while later.

A few years of being a commission artist, and doing random freelance jobs, briefly moving back down to texas for a few years. After doing fuck all for that time, Greendale had contacted Alex asking him to come back and teach art three for a few years, which as he was told, would look great on a resume.

And this was how Alexander N. Luna ended up in an old pickup truck gripping his phone so hard that he was sure it would crumble in his hand at any moment. Dean Pelton had been taking his sweet time delivering the email that told the teachers their new dormitory and teacher that would be rooming with them.

Alex simply took a deep breath before he turned the key and turned on the pick up, supposedly they had two days before they moved into the new dorm. Might as well just pack it all up now and get that off their hands, he figured he would just get his dinner from some random store he found while scouting the area. Mexican sounded good to him, therefore, he pulled out his teacher assigned parking space, and started on a path to the nearest restaurant he could find that served good tacos.

Alex seemingly never broke the habit of announcing when he got home, even when it was to no one. He figured he should get started packing, and that started with taking down all his wall art and putting them into the cardboard boxes that he moved in with half a year ago. He started carefully taking down the band posters that scattered his walls, even his newest DOOM poster came off easy, next came off his two flags, one pan and the other trans.

He then packed up his computer before falling into his rickety bed, he picked up his phone and went straight to email, he crossed his fingers and looked in his inbox, he opened the newest one he saw.

Hello Mr.Luna, Thank you for complying with this newest change, you will be sharing dormitory #323 with Prof. Ian Duncan, have a great day, and remember to be fully moved into your dorm by Monday!

Alex had heard of Ian before, never actually meeting him; he was infamous for something he called the Duncan principle, apparently he had been a student at Greendale about the same time as Alex.

Alex woke up late that saturday, figuring it was his last full day in his old dorm he got up, made himself breakfast and went right back to packing up all his things, he thought his roots were getting worse and worse so he took a trip to the nearest Sally beauty to pick up bleach and a new color of hair dye, intending to use it some time next week.

Yet again he grabbed a monster and mustered up the energy to pack more and put all his things in boxes, figuring he would leave some food for the new students moving into the dorm. He checked the clock; it read six-thirty so he made himself dinner, he looked in his fridge, pasta for one seemed obtainable.

He woke up that Sunday surrounded by boxes and a suitcase. He got up, made himself tea and got to putting everything in his car. He drove a few miles to the dorm complex over, and took a deep breath, hopefully his new roommate wasn’t loud or annoying.

Alex groaned as he picked up a box, trying to crack the problematic places on his back, he carried the box up to room #323, he climbed the stairs and tried his very best to not fall down the stairs. He looked around the hallway and tried to find the dorm number, he saw a few teachers he recognized all equally annoyed.

He spotted his dorm and checked his phone, looks like he might be running fashionably late. He saw someone leaning against the wall and nervously checking a wrist watch. Almost the second he saw Alex his mood brightened and he waved him over.

“Hello there! Alexander Luna, right!?” He said in a shockingly British accent, shooting a hand out to shake, taken aback by the accent Alex stopped in place.

“Ian Duncan, you can call me Alex by the way?” Alex shook his hand, being let into the dorm by the taller man, he looked around the exceedingly small, one-room dorm, and immediately noticed something that stood out to him.

“Oh my God���”

“What?”

“One. Bed.”

The layout of the dorm went like so; a compact kitchen to the left, shifting into carpet the floor was covered by a single loveseat in front of a tv stand that already had one as supplied by Ian, to the side of the seat was a single bed that was in a corner, mirroring a window, a door to a small bathroom sat opposite to the bed.

“Yeah…” Ian cringed, who had already taken a look through the dorm. “I would offer you to sleep on the floor or the couch, but all we have is a loveseat and no floor space.”

“Just don’t do anything too gay.” Alex gave a pitiful laugh and put a box on the table, seeing Ian had already majorly moved in. “I get up pretty late, you take the outer side, I’ll take the one next to the window.”

“Yeah, sure.” He said, a blush rising across his face. “I guess I should help you move in huh?”

“It would be much appreciated.” Alex smiled, letting a slight Texas drawl seep through his words. “Please and thank you.”

Alex walked out the room, Ian treading quick behind him.

“So you're southern huh?” He asked, looking at the boxes sprawled across the bed of Alex’s truck.

“Yes I am, grew up on a longhorn ranch in Texas.” Alex answered, sliding two boxes towards himself and two more to Ian. “I can get these two, you're too scrawny to carry these.”

“Hey!” Ian sounded offended but the tone quickly wore off. “You’re probably right but that still hurts, I can carry shit.”

The two continued their strange banter bringing in the boxes that cluttered the bed of Alex’s truck, maybe Ian had been purposely stalling his time by grabbing less boxes each time.

“So that's the last box, you got anything left in your truck?” Alex shut the door to their dorm.

“Just a few things but you're going to have to promise to not make fun of my car.” Ian sighed, signaling Alex to follow him

The two walked down to Ian’s car, Alex following Ian quickly, Alex had been trying to crack Ian, question after question along the lines of what car do you have? When the pair arrived at the car, Alex really had a sight to behold.

“Well… that is certainly… a car?” Alex giggled. “Do you even have a trunk?”

“No, I had to make two trips.” He admitted, opening the door and grabbing one of the milk crates full of books, mugs and random trinkets he couldn't place.

The two yet again went about their day, both moving into the tiny apartment best they could, Alex had put up almost all his wall art, he hadn't known Ian for long enough just to put up his flags.

“I’ll cook you clean?” Alex offered, both men had grown hungry.

“Sure.” Ian said. “I’m a great housewife.” Making Alex giggle.

The two cooked, ate, and cleaned together, trying to prepare themselves for the awkward night ahead. When the time eventually rolled around, it was Alex who first crashed into bed, falling asleep almost immediately. Ian needed to get done with the grades he had been putting off, but when he eventually crawled into bed with an already sleeping Alex, he couldn't help but get butterflies. If only he could reach over and touch him.

[paulrrudd]

[ptersparkers]

angel (chilling adventures of sabrina)

summary: as the only pure mortal in the fright club, there seems to be an influx of interesting things happening in greendale that you are unaware of. a certain prince of hell happens to find that interesting. 

warnings: typos, probably.

a/n: ummm maybe i binge watched caos this past week and maybe i’ve fallen in love. i’ll let you figure that out. also this is my first time writing for caos (and not marvel, lol) so let me know what you think!!’ pls give feedback thank u. 

add yourself to my tasglist! 

ps: this gif is mine so if you use it, please credit!  

When all was said and done, Sabrina and Caliban had come to amicable terms regarding the shared responsibility of ruling Hell.

It didn’t take much convincing for Caliban to relinquish his prior ambition after learning his rule would end within a day, as the Pagans would have defeated him and taken Earth for themselves. Sabrina’s ability to show him the time loop she was once trapped in gave him a reason to quit the fighting and rule Hell on an equal scale, no questions asked.

Plus, he started to like the bleach blonde witch.

You, on the other hand, felt like you had missed out on the most important plot piece of the greatest film of all time.

While Harvey, Theo, and Roz had known about Sabrina’s secret since her sixteenth birthday, you were left in the dust about the shenanigans that went on around Greendale. You were truly the only mortal with no magic or witch ties, but the other four couldn’t say the same. Sabrina was a witch, Theo’s ancestor Dorothea often visited him in time of need, Harvey’s family had a history of witch hunting (which he does not partake), and Roz’s ability to foreshadow the future with a simple touch proved to be more useful than she had originally thought.

You were a mortal. A regular high school student whose biggest problems were studying for four AP classes every day while balancing cheerleading and other extracurriculars.

It wasn’t until recently that the strangeness came to light. What the Fright Club had failed to mention was that Sabrina had continuously hexed you in order to keep you out of harm’s way by leaving a small bag filled with her Aunt Hilda’s concoctions in your bedroom. It worked its magic when you slept, an invisible blanket covering your eyes that made their strange disappearances seem normal.

But it seems like that hex was fading. Sabrina neglected to change it out every other week due to being preoccupied by Caliban’s yearning, the Dark Lord’s agenda, and Lilith’s drama regarding Hell. Now you sat with wonder and couldn’t help but feel left out of a great adventure that your friends embarked on.

A month had passed since Sabrina and Caliban had made amends. You grew to understand the nature of it and the four filled you in on all you had missed with a guilt hanging over their heads. It was hard to hear and understand, but ultimately you couldn’t hate your best friends for wanting to keep you safe.

You knew not to question Sabrina’s whereabouts if you weren’t able to find her because she was most likely taking care of business down below. You still had yet to meet Caliban and the only information you gathered from him was what the gang caught you up on and Sabrina’s grievances whenever she felt annoyed by him.

“You know, this is all a weird concept,” you said. “I mean, I guess I always had my faith and doubt kept me guessing about what’s really out there, and it’s really out there,” you said, stealing a fry from Theo’s plate. The five of you sat in Dr. Cerberus’s diner and decided you weren’t going to do anything that wasn’t normal for teenagers.

“It still creeps me out,” Harvey admitted. “Hell was worse than I could’ve imagined.”

“Caliban’s got things under control and Lilith’s doing just fine being an advisor,” Sabrina said. “I don’t think she’s mad about the ruling situation anymore. Lucifer’s still doing his bidding but I think they’ve reconnected.”

“That’s...good?”

Sabrina chuckled. “Trust me, it’ll take some getting used to.”

“That is an absolute understatement.”

The door to the diner chimed while you fished inside of your purse for a quarter.

“I’m gonna go pick out a song, any requests?”

“You’re the music genius,” said Roz. You smiled and walked towards the front of the diner.

As you approached the machine and put the quarter inside of the slot, a tall man with sand colored hair loomed over you and watched.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“Not really. Just observing.” You quirked an eyebrow, not recognizing his face despite knowing everyone in the small town.

“You’re not from here, are you?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Greendale’s a pretty small town. It’s easy to spot someone who’s not a local,” you replied.

“Well in that case, I’m not from around these parts. Far from, actually.” He looked at your hand and then the juke box. “What song are you choosing?”

You pried your gaze away from him to look back at the machine and put the coin in the slot, choosing “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” before looking back at him.

“Satisfied?”

The handsome stranger looked at you and didn’t try to hide the face that he was checking you out by letting his eyes look at your body up and down. Not that you minded.

“Very,” he said with a sail try voice before walking around the corner. “The name’s Caliban.”

“Y/N,” you replied. You raised your eyebrow before walking back to the other four and sat down in your previous seat only for the handsome stranger to approach the table.

“Caliban,” Sabrina greeted. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Nice choice,” Roz commented, hearing the song play throughout the diner.

“That’s Caliban, as in the Caliban?” you asked.

“It’s good to know you lot have been talking about me,” he said, crossing his hands over his chest. “I decided to take a break from, you know, and come see what you love so much about Greendale.”

“She knows about Hell,” said Sabrina.

“Funny how I’ve never seen her there, or anywhere with you four, as a matter of fact,” Caliban replied.

“It’s a long story,” you said, sipping on your chocolate milkshake. “Not an important one, though.”

“Contrary,” he began. “You’re the first purely true mortal I’ve met in Hell or otherwise with no ancestral ties to witches or greater magic. That’s pretty important to me.” You blushed, not knowing what to say or do next.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Harvey asked with a slight attitude. Caliban shifted his focus from you to him, which made your body relax a little bit.

“I didn’t come here for business or to whisk Sabrina away, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m just here to see what makes Greendale so special, though I think I’m starting to see why.” Caliban spared no expense and was not shy about looking in your direction as he spoke his last statement.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sabrina said sternly. “You are not going to get any ideas, are you?”

Caliban chuckled and put his hands up in defense. “Whatever you say, Sabrina.” He began to walk away but not before turning around and winking at you. “See you around.”

Caliban walked out the door and you didn’t bother asking where he was going next.

“Dear Satan, he’s so annoying,” Sabrina said, exasperated. “It’s like he’s made it his personal mission to make my life, well, a living Hell for lack of a better term.”

“At least he’s not hellbent on defeating you anymore,” Theo reasoned. “I think he’s trying to get to know you a little bit better.”

“And he’s doing it by flirting with my best friend?” Sabrina asked. She put her head on your shoulder and and ate a fry from her plate. “You know I love you, right?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not saying you need to stay away from Caliban, but you need to be careful around him. At least until we’ve worked together long enough for me to trust him completely.”

“Loud and clear, Brina,” you said. “I still can’t really wrap my head around this whole thing. I can’t watch horror films about Hell and witches the same ever again.”

The Fright Club laughed.

“It’ll take some getting used to,” Harvey said. “I mean, I was pretty apprehensive at first. Remember when Brina and I broke up and I spent every day at your place after school?” You nodded. “That’s when she told me she was a witch. It was kind of hard to wrap my head around until everything with the Pagans and angels happened.” You nodded, soaking in his words. “Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with feeling like you don’t understand. I don’t even understand most of it, if I’m being completely honest.”

“In think that’s enough food for me,” said Roz who pushed her plate to the middle. “Seeing Hell with my own eyes really suppressed my appetite.”

”Oh, shoot,” you said, looking at the clock mounted on the wall. “I have to head home and help my mom. I promised her I’d help clean the kitchen and I’ve got to be home in ten minutes. Can I pay you guys back?”

“Don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow?” said Theo.

“Count on it!”

***

You saw Caliban not long after your first encounter with him. The idea of him being the ruler of Hell (alongside Sabrina) was still a hard concept to understand and you weren’t quite sure if you were supposed to bow in his presence or not.

“Unnecessary,” he said when you asked. Caliban sat across from you at the local coffee shop, offering to walk you when you had caught his eye. You harbored a hot latte and he held a blueberry scone in his hand. “I think you mortals like that glory.”

You shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Hell doesn’t have formalities when it comes to celebration other than referring to each other by one’s title,” he explained. “It’s just easier that way.”

“You make it seem like Hell’s a relaxed place to be.”

He pinched a piece of his scone off at put it in his mouth, smirking at your statement.

“Oh, far from it. As righteous as demons are, we’re not that shallow.”

“It’s kind of hard to believe you’re made out of clay,” you said, taking a sip of your latte.

“Why do you say that?”

“I dunno,” you said. You reached over the table to poke his bicep. “You seem so real. So human.”

Normally, Caliban would’ve been offended by such a comparison. But he smiled.

“I suppose. I don’t question my creation. I accept it and try to live as adventurously as I can.”

“I hope to,” you said. “Getting out of Greendale, I mean. It’s my biggest dream.”

“You’d want to leave this town?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” you replied. “I have nothing going for me here. I’m powerless and there’s no reason for me to stay where I’m not needed.”

To his surprise, Caliban felt his heart jolt at your comment. He was wordless for a moment.

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe somewhere on the west coast. Maybe I’ll still be in New England. College is the perfect opportunity to explore the world and come back home for a few weeks at a time.”

“This is where Lucifer fell, you know,” said Caliban. “The sacred place is hidden deep in the woods where there’s a clearing of rocks and stone. That’s why this place is driven by witches of the Church of Night.”

“I still can’t believe the Devil is walking among us,” you said, shaking your head. “My mom used to force me to go to Sunday school, and I suppose I did have faith. It’s all meta now.”

“Are you still a believer?” he asked.

“I kind of have to be, considering you’re here.”

Caliban smiled.

“Do Heaven and Hell ever interact withe each other?”

“Not exactly,” he began. “We’re on civil relations but don’t want anything to do with each other. They stay up there so long as we stay down here. I’ve never encountered an angel before.”

“You haven’t?”

“They aren’t allowed to come down to Earth unless absolutely necessary,” he explained. “Not really sure why but it’s one of their more important rules.”

“I think I have a headache,” you teased. All of this knowledge about celestial beings truly made your senses adapt to your surroundings in Greendale and you were more than aware of the fact that God was real.

“I should go,” Caliban said, standing up. “I need to escort some souls back to Hell and send some up north.”

“You mean not all souls who are sold to the Devil go to Hell?”

“Sabrina and I negotiated that,” he said. “No more soul-selling. The ones that preexist will be discussed by her and I, and we decide if the punishment is worth the crime. I don’t think someone who sold their soul for a good cause needs to spend all eternity down in Hell. That’s why she comes down there all the time.”

“Huh,” you said at a loss for words.

Caliban smiled. “I’ll see you around, princess.”

***

The next time you see Caliban was with the rest of the Fright Club. He was wearing a linen button down with several buttons popped open, exposing his bare chest with black slacks and white sneakers. His hair was tousled and you swore this was the most human you had ever seen him.

“Ambrose is being a little paranoid and wants me to check out the edge of Greendale for threats,” Sabrina said. “I think he’s just worried about me co-ruling Hell while living on Earth. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“You say that like it’s just another day in Greendale,” you said.

Sabrina shrugged. “I mean, it kind of is.”

“Well, do you need us to do anything?” Roz asked.

“I want you to come with me, if that’s okay. Harvey, Theo, and Y/N, you don’t need to come. I’m sure this is Ambrose being Ambrose.”

“Are you sure, Brina?” Harvey asked.

She waved him off. “It’s fine, really. Roz and I will spend a few hours making sure things are normal and we’ll meet back at my place for dinner? Aunt Hilda’s kind of expecting us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” Theo said enthusiastically.

Sabrina gave the group one last smile before she took Roz’s hands and teleported out of the room, which left the four of you.

“I can give you a ride, Theo,” Harvey offered before looking at you. “And you too. I don’t mind driving to the other side of town.”

“I can take her home,” Caliban said. Harvey looked at you and Caliban spoke again, noticing his hesitation. “Part of our deal was that I made sure her friends remain unharmed. That includes Y/N.”

Harvey seemed to accepted this answer and grabbed his keys from his pocket before bidding you a goodbye. He and Theo drove off in his truck before you and Caliban left in the opposite direction.

“So, uh, do you want to come in?” you asked, awkwardly standing by the front door after he insisted on walking you in.

“I don’t mind,” he said. You fumbled with the keys before opening the door with a shaky hand and let him inside. It was the first time you were letting a boy into your home (other than Harvey and Theo, but your relationship with them was strictly platonic) and you felt a little more nervous than usual. After figuring out you had liked Caliban more than you originally expected, there was nothing you could do to stop your heart from beating just a little too fast when we he was around. Him being in your house did nothing to help the situation.

As for Caliban, his usual overwhelming desire for a carnal relationship was nowhere to be found when he stepped into your house. He looked at the white walls decorated with family photos and admired the ones with you as a child. Caliban watched as you put the house keys in a glass dish and followed you to your bedroom.

It was odd, Caliban thought, to feel nothing but tranquility. He was almost always hyperaware of his surroundings and wary of demons and souls roaming past him in Hell, but it was just the two of you. Two bodies under one roof.

“My parents won’t be home until later tonight. N-Not that we have to do anything!” you added. “I just mean they’d freak out because they haven’t met you before.”

Caliban chuckled. “I wasn’t planning on making a move, if that’s what you were wondering.”

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Your room suits you,” he said. Caliban admired the photos on your nightstand and polaroids pinned to a brown board on the wall filled with memories from your past with the Fright Club and other friends and family members. He saw a stack of books beside your bed and a fish tank sitting by the window, your closet doors closed, and decorative pieces that highlighted your personality.

“Thanks,” you said, laying down on your best. “You can sit, you know.”

Caliban took this opportunity to lay next to you. When you felt the bed dip, you averted your eyes to the ceiling.

“What are you thinking about?” Caliban asked after a long pause of silence.

“How fast life changes,” you replied. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, but with all that I know, how can I keep all of this celestial knowledge a secret from my parents? The world is always doubting Heaven and Hell but I know the truth. I don’t know if being purely mortal is helping me out in this situation either.”

“You’re an innocent,” Caliban said, turning his head to look at you. “So pure and clean. Your soul has been untouched by neither light or night and it’s probably the one thing that’s going to save you in the future.”

You turned your head to meet his gaze. “I’m still powerless.”

“Maybe in one way, but not completely. You have no witchcraft magic but you have intelligence and intuition. You know not to meddle with things that aren’t of your concern.”

You were silent.

“What else are you thinking about?”

“How much I like spending time with you,” you confessed. “But it’s hard, you know. You’ll be in Hell most of the time and you’re made of clay, for crying out loud.” Caliban chuckled. “I didn’t really think you’d be around as often as you are.”

Caliban was silent.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he replied. “I’m always thinking about you. I used to think morality was a disease, but it’s not. It’s a rationale, just like any demonic presence.” Caliban moved closed to you.

“I think about what love is and how I don’t know what it really means.”

“I think love means different things to different people,” you said. “I think it’s mutual respect and loyalty. It’s knowing details about someone, big and small. It’s about being together but knowing you can be independent. Love is hard and it takes time. Love is not instant.”

“You’re pretty wise for an innocent,” he said.

You laughed. “Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic.”

“Maybe not.”

Caliban lifted his body to hover above yours, your chests barely touching as his eyes gazed right over your lips. You dared not to move and Caliban hesitantly leaned down further so that your lips barely brushed against one another, the goosebumps on your skin taking affect. Because you weren’t pulling away, he took it as a silent signal and pressed his chaste lips against your soft ones.

There was no spark. No magic and no fireworks. There was only you and Caliban, and there was no other way you would’ve wanted your first kiss to feel like. Time slowed down as Caliban relaxed by your touch and your hands roamed his neck. The cold outdoor air was replaced by the warmth of Caliban’s body and when he pulled away, he let his thumb stroke your cheek as he cupped the side of your face.

“You are, dare I say, an angel.

“That’s a compliment, considering I know how much you despise them.”

He laughed. “Perhaps I’ll make an exception.”

Caliban leaned down once more to press a tender kiss to your forehead and you closed your eyes in bliss, happy to accept the good that came with the craziness of the last month. You looked at his structured jaw and grinned at his loving gaze, letting out a tired laugh.

“Perhaps.”

[communitymickygreen]

Hello again! C back to introduce my second bean, Michelle “Micky” Green!

name: michelle “micky” renee green age: 42 birthdate: august 8, 1979 astrological sign: leo trope: the sage gender: trans female sexuality: pansexual relationship status: single (divorced) hometown: atlanta, ga occupation: cosmetologist major: business administration clubs and extracurriculars: book club parents: mary and josiah green birth order/siblings: only child positive traits: +wise, +understanding, +mature, +compassionate, +charitable, +loyal, +honest, +creative negative traits: -insecure, -closed off, -impatient

bio:

Michelle Renee Green was born in Atlanta, Georgia to Mary and Josiah Green on August 8, 1979. Born and perceived by the world as a boy, Micky struggled throughout her childhood with coming to grips with who she was, as well as understanidng that in a place like Atlanta, and in a family like hers, acceptance wasn’t something she’d find easily. From a young age, she always wanted and sought her family’s approval, wanting nothing more than to make them proud as their only child. While her family wasn’t poor by any means, they didn’t live a lavish or luxurious lifestyle. Her father, Josiah, owned and operated a farm which Micky and her mother were expected to help maintain and keep running smoothly. It was his farm business- milking, producing various meats, eggs, and vegetables- that kept the family afloat and in a comfortable spot monetarily. 

Though Micky loved working with the animals and enjoyed the look of accomplishment and pride in her parents’ eyes when she completed her chores or overcame a particularly difficult task, she couldn’t help but to feel out of place. Each week with her allowance, she’d sneak down to the General Store and purchase the latest fashion magazines and the newest shades of eyeshadow and lipstick, hiding them in various spots around her room to enjoy when no one was looking. She’d dream of one day being and living as her authentic self. 

School was always something Micky excelled at, another positive tick on her chart to make her parents proud. As a family, they’d dream of the day that Micky would take over the farm, and turn the business into something more than they could’ve imagined. At first, she played along, pushing her dreams of working within the world of hair, makeup, and fashion to the side. She played the part she was expected to play perfectly, while crying at night out of desperation, praying she’d find a way to reconcile who she was with who she was expected to be. 

Micky’s  mother ran a small side-business out of their home, working as a seamstress to make, hem, and patch various garments and articles of clothing for people in their town. Always having been close to her mother- closer than with her father, despite how desperately she sought his approval- Micky was 15 when she asked her mother to teach her to sew. If Mary found the request odd she didn’t show it, and soon Micky was adding projects and jobs of her own to her mother’s business. When she was 17, Micky gathered up the courage to tell her mother that she thought she might like boys as well as girls, testing the waters for how she’d react to the full truth, should it ever come out. Mary was shocked, though if her heart was shattered she hid it well. She acknowledged the confession with a slight nod, and the two never spoke of it again. 

When the time came for graduation from high school and choosing a life path, Micky had reached a point in her life in which she was tired of hiding everything about herself and who she was. She’d worked hard for 18 years to make sure her parents approved of everything she did, though moving into adulthood she wanted more than anything to explore who she was meant to become. Enrolling in a Cosmetology Program, she waited until the day before she was to move into the dorms to tell her parents her plans. Mary, wise as she was, did not seem shocked, though she remained silent as Josiah screamed, yelled, and made his absolute displeasure known. This didn’t deter Micky, though she moved herself in the very next morning...Alone. 

College was an amazing time for Micky, and was where she finally felt safe and comfortable enough to begin exploring herself and who she really was. She excelled in her classes, passed every test with flying colors, and was happier than she’d ever been. Approximately six months into her studies, she met a man- another student, James Parker, who she immediately fell head over heels for. He seemed sweet, caring, and genuine, and he was interested in Micky for who she truly was. The pair quickly began dating. A year later, Micky officially changed her name to Michelle. Two years after that, when Micky was 21, the two were married. 

Things within the Parker household seemed like a dream, and at first they were. Though, only a few short years into the marriage, things began to sour a bit. The two became distant, a gap that only grew wider over the next 20 years of marriage. By the time Micky filed for divorce, a flood of secrets and hard truths about her marriage and who her husband really was had come to light, in the most hateful of ways possible. Not only had James been cheating on her for years, but she found out that he’d been gossiping about her behind her back, speaking poorly of her and tarnishing her name and reputation. It turned out that those hateful, disgusting comments he’d been making to her in private had permeated the walls of their home, leaking into the real world and costing Micky everything she’d known. 

Once the divorce was finalized, Micky knew she needed a fresh start. Picking up as many pieces as she could, she moved out to Colorado, a place she’d always admired for its beauty. Finding a house to rent, she adopted two dogs- Stanley and Priscilla, a Great Dane and French Bulldog- and began rebuilding her life. After some consideration, she decided to follow her lifelong dream of opening her own salon- something she’d often talked about with James, who never failed to shut her down, and tell her the million and one reasons why she wouldn’t ever be able to do so. Realizing she needed more education to pursue her dream, Micky enrolled in Greendale to earn a Business degree, to help her in her pursuits of owning a salon. She’s slowly picking up the pieces of her life, doing her best to make a fresh start and move on from the hell she was trapped in for so long. 

Wanted Connections: -Study Group -People to ‘mentor’- a friend group to take under her wing -Other book enthusiasts -Other cosmetology students -Romantic/FWB connection -A best friend/confidante

[isingonly4myangel]

You asked for prompts, so here is one: Hilda organizes a dance at the Academy of Unseen Arts to lift people’s spirits. Zelda begrudgingly attends. Everything is fine until a cheeky young warlock asks her to dance, and she has a flashback to being under Faustus’ spell.

Yikes, well this only took me more than a year to answer. Nothing like a mandatory quarantine to force you into working on pieces you haven’t touched in ages! Anyway, this is set after part 2, so we’re still in a sweet spot of potential before part 3 happened. First CAOS story, would love to hear people’s thoughts! 

Also, in case anyone is interested, the piece they dance to is “Melting Waltz” by Abel Korzeniowski. Yes, I like my horror tv shows :) 

Below the line, because Faustus Blackwood is an ass, and- ya know- trauma

The dance had been Hilda’s idea. Since the whole Satan fiasco, morale amongst the remainder of the coven had been low. Very low. Hilda, ever the caretaker, tried everything to lift people’s spirits. Once baked goods had failed, even with enchantment, she began to plan for the dance.

A week or two prior, Zelda had contacted the High Priests of two covens in New York City that had a reputation for being more liberal in their beliefs, to inform them of what had happened in Greendale. Both men had accepted her as the first High Priestess in history with relative ease, and though she was reluctant to show it, Zelda was delighted. So when creating a guest list, Hilda had written to them with a dual invitation for a face-to-face meeting as well as an evening of socialization with the Greendale coven.

Expecting the remaining members of the Greendale coven to be joined by a dozen or so members of the New York covens, Hilda spent days decorating and baking. Two days before the event, she and Zelda stood in the main hall at the Academy, making minor adjustments to decorations.

“What’ll we do about that… thing?” Hilda asked, gesturing to the statue in the centre of the space, now missing its head. It was one of only two tangible marks of Faustus Blackwood’s brief and twisted domain over the Church of Night, the other being his office within the building. Zelda had begun to clear it out the previous week, but had left almost as soon as she entered. She could not stand his lingering scent.

In response to Hilda’s question, the ginger-haired witch merely raised her left hand, palm facing the statue, and Hilda turned to look at Zelda as she felt her sister’s magic surge through the room. Slowly at first, but then with increasing speed, the neck of the statue began to melt. Dark grey droplets formed, dripping from the statue’s throat down to its shoulders. Before long, stone flowed as liquid, the statue becoming misshapen, drooping as it disintegrated.

Once the statue was no more than a large puddle of grey sludge, it suddenly errupted into flames. Zelda took a drag off the cigarette in its holder on her right hand, watching the remains of the statue evaporate.

“Well,” Hilda broke the silence as the last of the puddle burned away. “I suppose that’s that.” She began, somewhat awkwardly, to sneak out of the room around her sister. Zelda methodically exhaled a cloud of smoke before flicking the ashes of her cigarette in the swiftly shrinking puddle. Then the redhead turned on her heel and sauntered out, feeling somewhat lighter.

~~

The evening was lovely. The hall of the Academy was alive with light and sound. Candles on each wall and hovering overhead created a sophisticated and appropriately spooky embiance. Music reverberated softly through the space, somehow smoothly alternating between classical orchestrations, jazz band recordings, and modern pop songs for the younger generation.

Sabrina sat on the staircase surrounded by her schoolmates, the red silken fabric of her skirt draped over the stairs. Her mortal friends had joined the coven for the occasion, mingling with the Academy students around Sabrina. Hilda played hostess as she made her way in cheerful circles around the room to ensure that every guest was contented, the neckline of her blue dress cut just a little lower than previous dresses (at her sister’s encouragement). Zelda was every inch the High Priestess. Her fiery hair was pinned up, her dress a formal black, pointed at her shoulders and at the ends of her long sleeves, partially covering the backs of her hands. Her nails were a deep, blood red matching the jewels of her earrings and the color painting her lips. She stood in a cluster of warlocks, trading ideas on numerology, quietly pleased that things seemed to be going so well. Their guests appeared to be enjoying themselves, and Zelda felt respected, listened to, equal with the men she stood amongst. It made for a very welcome change.

The music shifted into a haunting waltz, a minor-keyed orchestration full of strings. The warlock on Zelda’s left extended an upturned hand to her, the gesture holding a certain air of ceremony. He made quite a picture with his gold suit jacket, along with gold rings on his fingers, eyes lined in the same color, and nails painted to match. So much gold laid against his dark skin created quite a striking effect. “Might I ask you for a dance, High Priestess?” he questioned with a charming smile. Zelda raised an eyebrow, almost as though she were evaluating him before replying.

“Very well,” she murmured after a moment’s pause, placing her hand in his outstretched one. He led her to the centre of the room where other dancing couples had begun to pick up the waltz tempo, and pulled her gracefully into a dance frame with a hand on her back, leaving her free hand to rest on his shoulder. As the music rose, he stepped forward and began to lead.

They were a very elegant pair, and other couples drifted to the outskirts of the dancing space to allow them more room. A number of conversations around the room fell silent as people turned to watch.

“You dance beautifully, High Priestess,” he spoke as she followed his change of direction with ease, flashing her that same lovely smile.

“Thank you, Brother Ethan. It was one of my favorite pastimes a century or two ago, I did quite a lot of it. All those marvelous European parties.”

“Oh I know just the ones, somehow the Europeans always throw superior parties. And so many handsome young men,” he added, a wry smile on his lips. Zelda gave a knowing laugh as he raised their connected arms for her to turn under, but as she spun- once, twice- the room seemed almost to tilt under her feet, and she heard the flutter of a skirt that she was not wearing, felt sharpened fingernails pricking the delicate skin of her waist. She was pulled back against the warlock, and she desperately tried to focus on his tightly curled hair, the feeling of the flat of his palm nearly between her shoulder blades, the gold edging his dark eyes, anything to remind her that this was not Faustus.

Breathe, she thought, forcing herself to keep with the rhythm of the music while everything in her screamed to run. Careful to keep her face frozen in a slight smile, she directed all of her attention to inhaling and exhaling evenly in time with the music, counting waltz time in her head. In 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Out 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Her feet followed his automatically, and she bit hard on the inside of her lip as he turned her again.

An eternity later, the music came to an end, and she returned his bow with a picture perfect curtsey. “You are truly lovely, Sister Zelda,” spoke her partner as they returned to the side of the room.

Zelda, Blackwood’s voice hissed in her mind, a cruel echo of Ethan’s friendly tone.

“Thank you for the dance, Brother Ethan,” she spoke, digging her fingernails into her palms to stop her hands from shaking. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some-something to attend to.” Without waiting for his response, she turned away from him and started across the room. She managed to keep a sensible- though swift- pace until she stepped into the empty corridor. Her strength disappeared and she broke into a run, undeterred by the height of her heels.

Swinging around the corner, she flung herself at the front doors and stumbled through them, the chilly evening air tearing into her lungs. She flew down the stone steps, no thought to where she was going, only wanting to get as far away as possible. Racing towards the railroad tracks, one foot caught behind her, and suddenly the ground rushed up to meet her, her palms skidding against rough soil and small stones tearing at the knees of her stockings. As she whipped her head around to look behind her, she saw her right shoe standing upright, its heel rooted in the earth. Her breath caught in her chest and a sob ripped from her lips, fingers digging into the dirt in an effort to find something- anything- to hold onto as memories that plagued her nightmares flooded her mind. She sank back on her knees, gasping air into her lungs while her tears left tiny dampened spots on the ground beneath her.

Every thought was disturbingly vivid- the overpowering scent of Faustus’s cologne, the sickly sweet taste of sugared tea, the sharp crack of the cat o’ nine tails against her back, pricks of pain as his sharpened fingernails tore at delicate flesh inside of her until there was blood on the sheets. The maddening knowledge that she was aware of every moment and yet powerless to stop anything.

A hand on her back startled her so that she recoiled from it with a strangled cry, her hip landing hard against the uneven earth. Half-expecting it to be Faustus standing above her, waiting to drag her back to the prison of the music box, she was somewhat bewildered to see Lilith looking down at her, an unfamiliar expression of pity on the face borrowed from Mary Wardwell. Zelda wiped furiously at her cheeks with the back of her hand in a futile attempt to compose herself.

“My Queen,” she spoke, her voice wavering. “What m-”

“I’m not here as your queen,” Lilith cut her off, kneeling beside her despite the dirt. “I could feel you. All the way down in Hell- your body, your magic in distress, your mind practically screaming. Zelda, what’s happened?”

“I-it felt… it felt like F-faustus, when he-he…” A sob bubbled up in her throat and she tried to swallow it, her head dropping in shame at such a display in front of the Queen of Hell. In front of Lilith.

Lilith reached out a gentle hand and placed it lightly against Zelda’s head, brushing fiery hair away from her face. The witch allowed it, leaning in almost imperceptibly to her touch. Wishing to spare her High Priestess any pain she could, the demoness pulsed her magic through her hand and nudged into Zelda’s mind, carefully touching on the recollections at the forefront of her memory. Brushing up against the thoughts, Lilith could see Zelda’s remembrance of the last few minutes in the hall, and of everything she suffered at Faustus’s hand. Her lips parted as she gasped in horror, tears burning in her own eyes to match the redhead’s.

“Oh, Zelda,” she breathed, leaning forward to touch her forehead lightly to the witch’s. “As I am Queen of Hell, I promise that no man will ever hurt you like that again. And when I find Faustus Blackwood, I will drag him screaming into the Pit and I will visit on him pain as he has never known before. He will pay for what he’s done, I promise you.” Lilith tilted her head up to press her lips against Zelda’s brow, sealing her vow with a kiss heated in Hellfire.

Hold me, she heard Zelda’s whispered thought as the witch bit her lip, trying fiercely to hold back tears. Lilith, please. Please hold me. The desperation in the redhead’s mind broke the demoness’s heart as it had not been broken in millennia. She gathered the other woman into an embrace, feeling Zelda’s arms wrap around her waist as she held her tightly. And as the witch sobbed against her chest, finally giving into tears, Lilith began to plot revenge against the man who had brought her High Priestess, trembling, to her knees.

What fun she would have with him. What fun.

[soyforramen]

3 times archie wanted to call veronica while he was away but didn’t, and one time he did. 39 for varchie!

I’m so sorry, apparently I posted this on AO3 and not on Tumblr!!!

One:

 On the outskirts of Riverdale, Archie watched as Jughead spoke into the payphone, letting Betty and F.P. know where they were, what he was doing. Even from this distance his posture was relaxed, calm. It was a direct contrast to how Archie was feeling, every nerve, every muscle, every joint ready to be gone from here.

Archie was grateful beyond words that Jughead had insisted on going with him when he found out about the bounty. That he’d refused to let Archie go through this alone, even though some part of Archie knew Jughead’s insistence had more to do with living out the lives of so many of those long dead authors he worshiped.

But Jughead wasn’t the person who Archie wanted to be crossing the country with.

A surge of longing shot through him as he did his best not to dial that number he knew by heart. The number he knew could soothe some of this pain. He slipped a hand into his coat pocket where his cell phone lay dead from the last two days on the road. His thumb ran over the glossy surface, keying in the number as it went.

Even if he could talk to her, she’d tell him what he didn’t want to hear. What he didn’t want to believe. She’d tell him they could work this out together. That together they could stand up to anything. Whatever stood against Veronica Lodge would fall when it came in front of her determination.

Everything she would tell him would be enough to make him second guess his footing. Enough to second guess this self-imposed exile.

She’d be angry, too. Angry that he’d left her without a word. And she’d have every right to that anger.

But this time, Archie couldn’t let himself be convinced by her. He couldn’t risk her getting hurt because of him. Too many people already had.

There was blood on his hands, blood that could never wash out. Blood that would only stain her silk satin sheets. Blood that would turn her white pearls a murderous pink.

He’d stain her to her soul, and that was one thing Archie couldn’t do.

Jughead hung up and Archie stood to wipe the dirt from his jeans. He scraped his palms across the denim, a small burning ache lingering across them. The ghost of her hand around his wrist called to him and he tried to rub the feeling away.

Concern splashed across his face, Jughead gave Archie a side-long glance. It was obvious he wanted to talk, probably about whatever Betty wanted to pass along. But Jughead passed on doing so. Instead he fell into step with Archie as they walked the silent road to Greendale, both heavy with something neither could quite put a word to.

Two:

Late at night, cicadas screaming around them and the smell of hay heavy in the air, Archie stared at the stars above them. Next to him, Jughead snored and rolled over. He’d always been able to sleep no matter the circumstances. A survival instinct, he’d once called it. Archie hadn’t understood what he’d meant at the time, and even now it made little sense. Sleep was a luxury now, one Archie couldn’t afford to indulge in. Not with so much running through his head, and even more running after him.

It had been a week since they’d first come to the farm, but time meant nothing to him now. It stretched out into a puddle disturbed by a rock skipped across it, the ripples distorting days and minutes into one and the same.

On the farm, time held no meaning outside of day and night. Things were simple. Wake at dawn, feed the animals. Heavy labor the rest of the day, broken up by a meal. The physical work took his mind off everything he’d been running from. It wasn’t hard to see him living out the rest of his days here.

Jughead, though, was unnerved by this place. Those he’d spoke to in town had unsettled him, the dice seeming to follow him at every turn, a reminder and an omen of Riverdale. But for Archie, this place felt safe.

And as guilty as he felt about it, Laura made him feel safe. With how sweet she’d been to her sister, with how kind she’d been to open her doors to two strange travelers. She’d understood how hard it had been for them when Archie had told her the truth. She had even gone so far as to ask if there was anything else she could do for them.

He hadn’t felt this safe in a long time.

No, that wasn’t true. There had been one place. One person.

That safety was long gone, along with it his rose-colored dreams of their future together. Both had been dashed to pieces under the strange circumstances they’d both found themself in.

Jughead’s phone pinged, its screen throwing up an eerie glow. While Jughead slept on, Archie’s fingers crept towards it. It would be so easy to make one phone call. So easy to dial the number seared across his heart.

The phone went dark, the barn’s walls rushed up to fill in the space. It was tight, choking the air out of this place. Archie shoved his feet into his shoes and ran out of the barn to escape it.

Three:

A knife against his throat helped put things into perspective, Archie realized. It was a direct threat to his life, an indirect threat to everyone he’d cared about. A threat that drove him further and further into the Canadian wilderness. As hard as it was to leave Jughead behind, it was a million times hard to leave his father at the border. Even with Vegas at his side, Archie’s future looked grim.

Jughead’s cell, slipped into Archie’s coat pocket at the junkyard, vibrated. Archie glanced around, unsure if he was alone in such darkness, and pulled it out. In the corner a single bar flashed, the first spot of service he’d had in hours.

He unlocked the screen only to find a text from Veronica, a jumble of words asking where they were, whether Archie was safe. Why he wouldn’t talk to her.

His vision blurred as a deep loneliness threatened to strangle him. One more reminder that he wasn’t just leaving his family and friends behind. He was leaving pieces of himself behind as well.

It was all too much all at once. He hit the call button one last time. All he needed was to hear her voice one last time to get through this. The phone rang through to Veronica’s voice, as velvet and lush as her hair, ordered him to leave a message, but he didn’t dare. He’d already put her, and himself, in too much danger by calling.

Archie shoved it to the bottom of his pack. He headed deeper into the dark woods.

It had been pure, dumb luck when he’d found the old abandoned cabin in the woods just before dawn. Wood had rotted away in some areas and weeds had grown up above the windowsill. The door with its parks ranger sign fell off when Archie tugged it open, but the inside was relatively untouched, save for the raccoons that had made a vacation home in the closet and the years of dust that covered every surface.

Archie fell into the old spring mattress, his body aching and his eyes closing of their own accord. He barely noticed Vegas nestled up against him.

When he woke, the air around him was suffocatingly hot. Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sun and a buzzing noise came from across the room. He propped himself up on his elbows, a part of his dazed mind thinking ‘wasps’, but there was nothing there. He fell asleep again and slept dreamlessly until the next dawn.

It was another two days of working to put the cabin back together that Archie remembered about the phone buried in his backpack. He’d promised to send some signal back to his father when he’d found a place to stay and this shack looked as good as any. He pulled the phone out and found that it still had a charge but no signal. A trek to the nearby creek fixed that, and as he sent out a text to his father the phone buzzed with missed calls.

Fingers shaking, Archie held the phone up to his ear to listen to the solitary voicemail.

“Please come home,” Veronica said, her voice thick and cracked. “I miss you.”

A black heaviness started in his heart until it pooled down into his feet. He listened to her voice again, another time. A third, a fourth, a twelfth. He listened to it again and again, a sickly sweet punishment for everything he’d done. For all the pain he’d put her through.

Archie listened to the voicemail until the phone warned him it was about to die. He wanted to call her again. To tell her exactly where he was. To beg her to come to him. When the phone died, he stared at the phone.

It wasn’t until Vegas began frantically barking that Archie woke up as if from a dream. He picked the axe up and headed over the hill.

Four:

His breath was shaking as he stood outside the convenience store. A car backfired and he jerked back into the payphone.  The gash on his chest stung - still a raw, open reminder of his own brash carelessness - and he gasped in pain.  

On the other end, the line rang.  Archie held his breath, waiting for her to pick up.  He wondered if she still cared, if she’d want to talk to him after two months of no contact.  She’d been so adamant that they work through this, that they work together.  

She’d promised him she’d keep him safe and he hadn’t believed her.  

That pain hurt worse than any physical wound ever could.  Reflexively he ran his hand across his chest to check that the bandages were still intact.  He pressed down on the edges while he waited.

Four rings, five.  And still nothing.  When the phone finally went to voicemail, he squeezed his eyes shut.  His hand pressed down upon the bandages, a warning flare of pain shooting through him.  

“Veronica.”  He breathed her name like a prayer.  Standing silent, he tried to think of something, anything he could say to make it better.  The voicemail clicked off, and he finally spoke.  “I’m coming home.”

[urdbell18]

Those Moments in Between Chapter 2: Boo to You

AN: So I’m not sure how often I would post new chapters but I’m starting a new project (not writing related) and decided to post this chapter before I completely forgot about this. Also I want to hear from you guys. I want to know what you guys want to see. My box is open and ready for your ideas. Everyone stay safe out their and enjoy.

Mary wouldn’t admit it to Zelda, not when the other woman had so much on her mind already, but she was nervous. She had never taken care of a child as small as Vida and though Vida seemed to like her that could all change in a heartbeat. This was the first time that the two of them would be alone together, without Zelda. To say that Mary was under some significant pressure was an understatement. This one night could make or break her budding relationship with Zelda. Was she overreacting? Maybe. Was it justified? 100% Mary hasn’t known Zelda long but the one thing that Mary did know was that Vida came first. If tonight went south that was it, she was done.

So far things seemed to be going okay. Vida took to her mom leaving very well and was still excited about going out for trick or treating. If that’s what Vida wanted then so be it. Well… trick or treating was part of the deal but Mary wasn’t going to force Vida to do something that she didn’t want to.

The advantage of Greendale being such a small town was that everything was in walking distance. From the town center you could easily walk to any of the housing neighborhoods. That made things a whole lot easier for Mary, she could park her car in one spot and not worry about its safety or where she left it. Mary managed to convince Vida that they should start with the furthest neighborhood.  As they approached the first house Mary turned to Vida.

“Do you remember what you have to do Vida?”

“Yes. I ring the doorbell and wait for someone to answer and then I say ‘trick or treat’. Right?”

“Very good. And what do you say after they give you treats?”

“Thank you and happy Halloween!”

“Excellent! Your golden.”

“But my dress is black.” Vida looked herself over, yup everything was black. Her dress, her tights, her shoes. What was gold?

Mary mentally slapped herself. Of course Vida wouldn’t understand. Mary stumbled on her words for a second. She paused and took a deep breath, she can’t let this phase her.

“It’s nothing Vida. Are you ready?” Vida nodded causing her pigtails to bounce from one side of her shoulders to the other. They walked up to the house, Mary hung back but kept a close eye on Vida as she stepped onto the porch. Vida turned to look at her, there was a tiny bit of fear on her face. “It’s okay I’ll be right here. You got this.” With a small smile Vida turned back to the door and rang the doorbell. A few minutes passed by until a middle aged woman with wheat colored hair that was in a neat bun answered the door.

“Trick or treat!”

“My aren’t you precious. Is this your first time?” Vida nodded.

“Yes, but my mommy sometimes lets me help my Auntie Hilda hand out candy. She works at the bookstore.”

“Dr. C’s? I think I know who you are talking about. And since you are my first trick or treater I have a special surprise for you.” Mary tensed and stepped closer to Vida. Though this woman didn’t set off any alarm bells it never hurt to be overly cautious. And if anything happened to Vida Mary was sure she would never see the light of day again and her body would never be found. The woman brought out a spellbook but when she opened it several large candy bars were nestled inside. Vida’s face glowed bright and she turned to Mary and then back at the woman.

“I can really have one!?” The woman nodded. Now came the hard part, which one? Mary scanned the bars over. They were all pretty basic, none of them contained nuts or a filling, but some had extra like the big Crunch and Kit Kat bars.

“These seem to be a good option Vida.” Mary brought Vida’s attention to the king size Hershey milk chocolate and dark chocolate bars, they were the simplest and would most likely appeal to Vida’s pallet. Vida looked between the two bars clearly torn between which one she should get. The woman smiled softly.

“How about this. I give you both but promise you won’t eat them both at once. I don’t want your mom hunting me down.” The woman looked at Mary and gave her a wink. Did she just... no... but she had to…

With her candy bars in hand Vida tried to fit them in her plastic jack o'lantern bucket with little success. Mary chuckled and held out the tote bag that she brought with her. Did she expect to fill the whole bag? No, Zelda might murder her. But Vida’s bucket wasn’t very big and would fill up pretty quick. The tote bag was there to help with that, as well as hold the flashlight that Mary brought with her just in case. Vida got the hint and placed the bars in the bag.

“Thank you very much! Happy Halloween!”

“Happy Halloween!” Vida and Mary waved the woman goodbye. One house down several more to go.

______________________

Mary decided to call an end to the trick or treating at seven. They have been out for a few hours and Vida was starting to get tired. They took a break when they finished the first neighborhood but that only stalled the problem for a little while. Halfway through the town center Vida started to complain that her feet were hurting. While yes she was tired it was bigger than that. Her shoes were physically hurting her. Mary understood and called it a night, she picked Vida up and walked back to her car. Despite that, Vida had a pretty good haul. She had to empty her jack o’lantern twice and it was half full when they called it quits. It stacked up to a nice size pile that Mary could just see Zelda scowling at.

When they arrived at Mary’s house Mary helped Vida remove her tights to see if there were any injuries. The back of the poor little girl's ankle was scraped up. It wasn’t bleeding but it looked pretty raw. After relieving Vida of her shoes they had some dinner. Mary wasn’t a cook by any means so the best she could manage was pasta with some sauce. Vida didn’t make a big fuss. While Vida was eating Mary went through the backpack that Zelda left for Vida. Inside was a change of clothes, pajamas, a stuffed bear, a blanket, hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste in a zip lock bag, and a DVD, a double feature of The Addams Family. What wasn’t in there were bath supplies so Zelda wasn’t expecting Vida to bathe while she was with Mary but Mary decided to let Vida decide.

“Vida did you want to take a quick bath or shower? I can get the movie set up while you do that.” Vida tilted her head back in thought.

“What’s a shower?”

“It’s like a bath but you stand and the water comes down in a continuous spray.”

“I still don’t understand but I’m willing to try it.” Okay, alright, now what?

Deciding that it would be too inappropriate for her to be in the bathroom with Vida Mary got the bathroom ready. She started the shower, laid out a towel, and left Vida’s pajamas on the counter top. The last thing she did was brush out Vida’s braids, if she left them in water would get trapped and it would dry stiff. With one last check of the water temperature, it was ready for Vida.

“Okay Vida it’s all set up for you. There’s some soap and a sponge on the wall and I have a towel laid out for you. I don’t have any shampoo for you so don’t worry about washing your hair. Don’t worry about shutting the shower off. I’ll do it. I’ll be right outside if you need me. Okay?” Vida looked at her, she was a little scared but nodded. In she went, the door closed softly behind her. Five minutes later she was out, dressed in her pajamas and hair laid out on her shoulders in damp ringlets. “Finished?” Vida nodded.

“It was nice. Thank you Mary.”

“You’re welcome. I’m going to get changed myself so you can wait here for me or you can head downstairs if you like.” Vida nodded and she brushed past Mary to head downstairs. Mary gave a sigh of relief when she shed her Gomez costume. Between the stiffness of the actual costume and the clip digging into the back of her head it felt nice to let the slight breeze that was in her house wash over her. She really wanted to shower but decided that she couldn’t leave Vida on her own for that long. She would just have to live with her cotton sleep shorts and tshirt and her robe. It still felt refreshing. Vida was on the couch when she came downstairs. She wedged herself between the pillows and her bear was on her lap.

“So how about that movie?”

“Yes!” Mary didn’t need to be told twice. Turning on the DVD player Mary popped in the movie. She debated on whether or not she should make popcorn but decided against it. She didn’t want to feed Vida too much and make her sick nor did she want to end up on Zelda’s bad side. They made it though half of the first movie before Vida was out like a light. Mary carried her upstairs and settled her in the middle of the bed with the comforter tucked around her. It was still too early for Mary so she went back downstairs. After some light cleaning Mary poured herself a glass of wine and picked up the book that her W.I.C.C.A. club was reading, The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison. Rosalind Walker already read the book, led a protest on the books ban which was why they were reading it. Mary wanted the group to touch on the elements of the actual book as well as the politics behind it, mainly why it was banned. It wasn’t a school requirement nor a group one, participation was purely voluntary. Mary was proud to be a part of it. Though it wasn’t a school read, Mary was treating it as such so her plan was to read it once, absorb it, and then make notes. As the advisor she felt obligated to be prepared.

At around eleven her eyes started to get tired. So she finished the chapter that she was on and called it a night. There was a little bit of wine left so she downed it and then placed the glass in the sink to soak for the night. That’s when there was a knock on her door. How odd. Her house was out of the way, so she wasn’t the one to get casual visitors. With caution she opened the door and was met with an exhausted Zelda Spellman. Mary wasn’t expecting to see Zelda, and she definitely wasn’t expected to be kissed within an inch of her life but you won’t see her complaining. However, they didn’t have the pleasure for things to escalate any further. It was late and Vida was just upstairs. Mary led Zelda upstairs and set her up with some night clothes just like she did on their first date. Mary climbed into bed but waited for Zelda. Vida murmured a little and scooted closer to Mary. When Zelda climbed into the free side of the bed she leaned over Vida to give her a quick kiss and then kissed her daughter’s cheek goodnight. Mary settled down and before she knew it was fast asleep.

__________________

When Mary woke up the bed was empty but the house didn’t feel empty. Though it was faint, Mary could detect some noise coming from downstairs. Mary followed it and was kind of taken back. Vida was on the couch, the movie playing where it left off last night. Zelda was in the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of bacon simmering in the pan wafted from the kitchen. Vida was the first to notice her. She smiled and held her bear close to her chest.

“Morning Mary!” That caught Zelda’s attention. She smiled softly at her.

“Morning.” Mary nodded and made her way over to Zelda. On her way she ruffled Vida’s hair. Vida pulled back but she giggled and remained smiling. When Mary reached Zelda she hesitated. Though they have slept in the same bed and Vida has witnessed some moments between them that line hasn't been laid out yet. What was considered okay and what was considered inappropriate? That was up to Zelda, and Zelda decided that kissing was okay. She kissed Mary squarely on the lips and Mary was totally okay with that. She knew enough that it couldn’t escalate any further than that, it couldn’t be like last night, and that was okay too. Mary returned it, kept it nice and simple, that was enough.

“What are you making?”

“Eggs, bacon, and pancakes. I figured you earned a little reward for what you did last night.”

“It was no trouble. It was fun. Hey Vida!” Vida’s tiny head popped up over the armrest of her couch. “Do you want to show your mom all the candy you collected?” Vida nodded enthusiastically and scrambled to get the tote bag that Mary left near the front door. She brought the bag to the table and dumped it onto the wooden surface. The result was a good sized mountain made of pure sugar and chocolate. And Zelda turned as white as a ghost.

Mary was right, she did give it the scowls to end all scowls. Vida just smiled and Mary popped a candy corn into her mouth to try, and fail, to hide her smirk. Zelda turned the scowl onto her and her smirk cost her being hit in the hip with a kitchen towel.

Worth it.

[inyourwildestdreamslove]

Tripping Over You

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Summary: Sweet Pea proves he is the best guy for you, even though you already knew...

The final part of Playing Hard to Get: Check out the other parts here!

Read me Please: All of the poetry in this story is from the anthology the princess saves herself in this one by Amanda Lovelace, which you should clearly check out if you enjoy her work in this as much as I did! She is an amazing poet and does touch on some pretty rough topics sometimes. AKA you should be prepared to cry, but like a cleansing cry... Anyway... ENJOY!

Your stomach is twisted into unfamiliar knots as you walk the halls. Simultaneously, you crave and fear the moment you will see Sweet Pea walking down the hallway. If he even talks to you today…

‘Why am I such a spaz?!’ you reprimand yourself as you remember running off yesterday.

You groan as you hit your head against your graffiti covered locker. A bold red ‘Princess’ sticks out in metallic gold. You roll your eyes.

Today is going to suck.

You walk into your first class of the day and sitting on the desk you usually occupy is a coffee. Decorating the paper cup are the words:

when i see

your light pieces

with

my dark pieces,

i begin to

understand why

they say

opposites attract.

-chiaroscuro

The words are familiar but you can’t place them, almost as if you read them in a dream. You can feel them at the edge of your conscience but you can’t grasp them in your hands.

You take a sip and the soothing taste of your favorite drink coats your senses and brings peace to your mind. It’s like wrapping yourself in a blanket on a rainy day.

You smile softly as you reread the words and feel a soft contentment and frazzled excitement warring in you.

“You look happy,” the deep voice of Sweet Pea interrupts your thoughts and you turn to look at him. He’s got this look of inquisition upon his handsome features and for a moment you hope that he is one who left the coffee.

“Someone brought me my favorite coffee,” you say presenting him with the cup.

“Oh? Who?” he asks in interest.

“There’s no name… so I don’t know…”

“Hmmm… sounds like you have an admirer…” he says slyly.

You giggle to yourself, “Maybe…”

He smiles in return, that boyish smile that gives you butterflies and makes your heart pound.

“His smile makes my bones ache.

-a pain i welcome”

The words slip across your mind like honey, sticky sweet and a little messy.

“What’s written on it?” he asks.

“It sounds like a poem…”

“Do you know it?”

“Kind of… It sounds so familiar, but I’m having a hard time placing it.”

He nods in understanding before turning his attention to his phone as the teacher walks in. You spend class happily sipping on your drink and relishing in the fact that Sweet Pea is absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair.

Your day progresses like normal, Sweet Pea walks you from class to class talking with you about this and that.

“The Insidious movies are clearly better than the Paranormal Activity movies, even though the first one kept me up for three days…”

“Three days?” he questions looking down at you, “I thought Miss Horror wasn’t scared of anything…”

“A demon possessing you and dragging you into the attic IN YOUR SLEEP is a little terrifying… That is practically my worst nightmare…”

“Demons in your attic? Do you even have an attic?”

“That is beside the point!” you pout.

“Of course it is…” he chuckles as he leans casually on the locker next to you. You open your locker and something flutters to the floor. A postcard print of your favorite artist stares up at you from the floor. You pick it up and turn it over to see if a name or message is on the back.

in winter,

it’s the snowflakes.

in spring,

it’s the raindrops.

in summer,

it’s the flower petals.

in autumn,

it’s the leaves.

all these things

will eventually fall,

but not one of them

will fall as hard

as i do for you when i

wake up every morning.

-all the cliches were written with us in mind.

“What is it?” questions Sweet Pea from above you, he’s reading the poem over your shoulder.

“Another poem…” you mutter to yourself.

“Do you know this one?” he asks in curiosity.

“Maybe…” you mutter more to yourself than you do to him.

You smile down at the picture and tuck it happily in the book you’re reading. You aren’t sure which side you like better, the colorful or the black and white. You smile up at Sweet Pea feeling giddy with feelings of warm hugs and sweet words. He smiles back and you can almost see the promise in that smile.

‘Is it him?’ whispers across your mind as you grab is arm and pull him down the hallway towards the cafeteria.

“Well then Mr Big Bad Serpent… What are you afraid of?” you challenge in a playful voice, the grin on your lips infecting his.

He looks up in thought, “People living in the walls…”

You laugh in delight and launch into the topic of people being more terrifying than monsters.

When you arrive at your final class of the day a bouquet of deep purple, black, merlot and cherry red flowers greet you on your desk, all of your favorite colors wrapped in a bow. Your smile is so wide that you can feel the moon being drawn to you from the sky. You rush over to your desk and notice the smile on Toni’s lips as you take the card from the pick.

I.  a well-loved book.

II. a cool, overcast day.

III. a mug of coffee.

IV. a warm blanket

V. you.

-The only things i need to feel free.

You spend class telling the butterflies in your stomach to play nice, but they are just too excited to listen.

You spend the next day with Sweet Pea working on your papers as he grills you about the mysterious admirer that you have acquired.

“So you have no idea who it is? Not even one?” he asks for the 10th time that morning.

“No! I told you there wasn’t a note and I don’t know who would even begin to pay that kind of attention to me! I mean they know my coffee order!”

“Well if a guy really likes you… he’s going to know those kinds of things…”

“So you think he really like me then?” you ask with a dreamy smile.

“Yeah… I think after all of that he really does like you…” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You never know with things like this… it could be a prank…”

He seems to become frustrated at your words and changes the subject.

“So… Instead of going to that party tonight… we could do something else?”

“Like what?”

“Well… Greendale Drive-in is doing a horror movie marathon… We could go to that instead?”

“Seriously?! I’ve always wanted to go to one of those, but all of my friends hate horror movies!”

“Yeah! I know you don’t care for parties… plus there is that bakery you mentioned a couple of weeks ago… we could get something there after?”

“That sounds perfect Sweet Pea! When do we leave?” you ask in excitement.

He smiles down at you, “Around 5? We could grab dinner before the movie?”

“Sure! Do you want to hang out until then?”

“Actually, I have a couple of things I need to do at home…” he says getting up from your table.

“Oh.. okay…”

You are a little disappointed when he leaves, but you honestly can’t wait for tonight. You know he has to be the person leaving you all of those presents and poems. At least you hope he is since you have something planned for tonight.

You take your time getting ready… Okay so you antagonize over what outfit to wear for far too long then you fix your hair just the way you like it and do your makeup.

You glance over at the novel sitting on your dresser. It is a hardcopy of Dracula, you vividly remember the moment you fell for him as you discussed the book in question. You take the book and tuck it into your bag.

You pull your phone out and text Sweet Pea, “What are we taking tonight? Your bike?”

“Yeah... are you okay with that?” he writes back.

You smile to yourself, a date.. Can you call it a date… with Sweet Pea wouldn’t be complete without his bike. You simply text him that his bike will be fine.

The sound of his motorcycle roars into your driveway and you rush outside to meet him. He smile when he sees you and you happily return it.

“You ready for tonight, beautiful?” he asks handing you a helmet.

You nod shyly before you slip the helmet on and climb on behind him.

“Where are we sitting if we are taking your bike?” you ask in confusion.

“I have a blanket in the storage compartment for us to use… is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine!”

The ride to Greendale is smooth and beautiful, the colors of the sunset paint the sky and you can feel your nerves build. The two of you end up grabbing food to take into the Drive-in and you have a picnic as you wait for the movies to start.

“So any more thoughts on that mystery guy?”

“I have an inkling…”

“Do you now?” he asks glancing from the movie over to you, giving you his full attention.

“Yeah…”

“And who do you think it is?” he asks with a slight smirk.

You smile as you look up into his eyes, “You know I just remembered I have something for you…”

He furrows his brow, “Come on! You can’t change the subject now!” he exclaims leaning into you a little more. His eyes are a honey brown and you feel yourself falling for him even more.

“I’m not!” you laugh, “I just want to give you this before I forget! It’s that book for your project!”

He just sighs in disappointment, “That’s what you want to give me?”

“Yeah! It’s right here!”

You pull the book out and hand it to him, “Wow… thanks this is going to be really helpful…” he says flatly.

“Open it Sweet Pea,” you whisper to him.

He glances up into your eyes then does as you say.

Written inside the front cover are the words:

my boy?

he is even

better than

books.

-fiction has nothing on you.

His eyes are wide as he looks up at you.

“Is that-?”

“From the same book? Yeah it is…” you say with a soft smile.

He smiles before he leans in and captures your lips with his in a soft sweet kiss. Your hand rests on his chest to steady yourself as his fingers tangle in your hair. You can hardly believe the feelings that course through you, relief, excitement, happiness and contentment battle in your heart. When you finally pull back you both smile happily at each other.

“When did you figure it out?” he asks looking down fondly at the book in his hands before he meets your eyes again.

“Toni looked way too pleased with herself yesterday. This is after she got really cozy with my friend in our art class…”

“Toni helped to place some of the gifts so you wouldn’t suspect anything, but I did plan out all of it. Well I did need help with your coffee order…”

“How did you know about the book?!”

He laughs, “You carried that book around for weeks last month! I thought it fit you too… the princess saves herself in this one, how could I not use that as my proof that I’m way better than that other guy?”

“What other guy?” you ask in confusion.

“The… one in your math class… everyone said you have a crush of him…”

You laugh, “I don’t have a crush on a guy in my math class! And I never did!”

“What!? Seriously? You mean I got worked up over a guy who doesn’t even exist?”

“You got worked up because you thought I had a crush on someone else?” you ask sweetly leaning into him.

“Well… yeah… I wanted to prove I’m the best guy for you…” he says as he looks down into your eyes.

“Well… I think that you succeeded…” you whisper.

He smiles the happiest smile you’ve ever seen before he leans in again and kisses you softly as he pulls you towards his warmth. Pulling away from the kiss you rest your head on his shoulder and you relax contently against him. The butterflies, who have been restless all day, finally settle and allow you the peace to truly enjoy these feelings of unbridled happiness and content.

he

opened me up

like a book

& poured the

poetry

back into

me.

-my personal pen & paper.

Tags: @kammmmmmxp @love-your-little-thingss @nepriaa @live-love-bailar

[comebackbehere23]

A/N: I’ve teased y’all about this fic for too long...here’s chapter one ;)

“This is torture.”

Veronica laughs softly, “It’s baking, Cheryl.”

“I wasn’t talking about baking. I’m talking about the fact that my girlfriend basically dropped me off with you cub scouts so you could babysit me.” Cheryl huffs. “I am a grown woman, I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me.”

“She thought this would be a good idea, to keep your mind occupied.” Betty shrugs. “Jug calls V over to spend time with me all the time, especially if their meeting is going to be long.”

“Congratulations. I’m glad your boyfriend keeps you crated like a puppy whenever he’s gone.” Cheryl snaps, but the harshness in her eyes softens as she looks away. “I didn’t mean that. I’m…I suppose I’m just worried.”

Kevin wraps a gentle arm around her, “She’s fine. They’re meeting about a problem in Greendale, it’s not a big deal.”

“I realize that.” Cheryl sighs as she shrugs off his comforting touch. “Somebody distract me before I drive to the Whyte Wyrm to pick her up.”

Betty smiles as she licks batter off a spoon, “How are things going between you guys?”

“Clearly well enough for me to move her in.” Cheryl replies as she busies herself with cleaning up. “I never thought I’d be able to tolerate someone living with me, breathing my air, but it’s…amazing. She’s the best roommate.”

“Oh, I bet she is.” Veronica smirks.

Cheryl rolls her eyes with a blush, “Shut up.”

“I think it’s great that you’ve found someone, Cheryl. You seem to be really happy.” Betty offers, and Cheryl simply smiles. “I never pictured you with a Serpent though, gotta be honest.”

“Toni is so much more than that.” Cheryl scoffs with a scowl. “She joined the Serpents to find a family, but that isn’t who she is. She’s…so sweet. She listens to me, encourages me, understands me, and loves me without expecting anything.”

Veronica blinks in awe, “You are in deep.”

“Oh please, like the two of you have room to talk. Your lives revolve around Archie and Jughead. You’re in just as deep.” Kevin snorts as he sets a tray of cupcakes on the counter. “Face it, you’re all completely gone for your significant others.”

“Can you blame us? Have you seen Jug’s smile? Or listened to the way he speaks so passionately? He’s amazing.” Betty whispers as her cheeks color in a dark blush.

“He isn’t anything compared to my Archikins. Archie treats me like a queen. I never have to worry when I’m with him, I know he’ll always take care of me to the best of his abilities.” Veronica grins. “He’s the best boyfriend in Riverdale.”

“Does Jughead take you on bike rides at midnight for picnics at the lake? Or buy you roses just because?” Cheryl asks, and when Betty shakes her head she turns to Veronica. “Does Archie bring you shakes from Pop’s because you mentioned craving one? Does Archie kiss you and tell you that you’re his entire heart and he’ll always protect you?”

“No?” Veronica frowns.

“Didn’t think so. You peasants may have…semi appealing boyfriends, but none of them hold a candle to Toni.” Cheryl chirps. “Let’s be real, I clearly have the best significant other.”

Kevin chuckles at Veronica and Betty’s pouts before he glances down to a buzzing phone, “Speak of the Serpent and she shall call.”

A smile spreads across Cheryl’s face as Kevin slides her iPhone across the island surface and she is met with the sight of Toni’s smiling face. A wave of adoration washes over her as she thinks about the day the picture was taken; if she tries hard enough, she can still taste the cotton candy on Toni’s lips and smell the sunscreen on her girlfriend’s warm skin. With greedy hands, Cheryl scoops the phone up and accepts the call with a breathless tone. But she immediately frowns when she hears a deep voice that definitely doesn’t belong to Toni.

“Cheryl, it’s Toni.”

“Oh, God. What did you do to her now? Is it her face? Please don’t tell me it’s her face. Pea, I swear if you busted her nose again…”

“She’s in the hospital. W-We’re heading back to our bikes when a Ghoulie approached and Jug said something and…it’s all just a fucking blur. One minute it was just words and the next…”

“Wh-What happened?” Cheryl demands.

“She got stabbed. You need to get here. Now.”

Cheryl goes numb.

Everything around her seems like background noise and her body buzzes with fear. As she stands there, the phone slipping from her grasp, she hears the sound of a hoarse scream slip from someone and isn’t until Veronica frantically approaches her that she realizes she is that someone. Just as Kevin reaches her, her knees give out and she can’t seem to make out what he’s saying and she barely feels Betty’s hand resting gently on her back. No, all she can hear is Sweet Pea’s broken tone repeating over and over and over in her head, stuck on a loop that will never reach an end.

-

Cheryl doesn’t remember much of the ride to the hospital, mostly she remembers Betty talking to Jughead on the phone in a soft voice. She remembers Kevin helping her into the hospital, and she can remember seeing Sweet Pea leaned against the wall with blood smeared all over his front while Jughead sat beside him in a matching state. In that moment, Cheryl had felt the world slip from beneath her and she has no recollection of making it to a trash can before she emptied the contents of her stomach. Eventually, she finds herself sitting in an uncomfortable chair with a stiff spine and wide, unblinking eyes.

As she sits, all she can think about is how she should’ve seen this coming. Luck doesn’t exist in her world, there’s no such thing as happy endings; she’s a Blossom, all their love stories are meant to end in tragedies. But not Toni. No, Toni isn’t supposed to be a part of that. Not her girlfriend with her sweet smile and quick as a whip sass, not Toni who is pure magic and love. She wasn’t supposed to be touched by Cheryl’s darkness, but somehow she managed to be swallowed up in it.

“Here.”

Cheryl glances up at the offered water, “Thanks.”

“I uh don’t have enough cash on me to get you any coffee, and Toni says you refuse to drink anything other than Starbucks.” Fangs mumbles as he sits beside her. “She talks about you a lot.”

Cheryl stares at him, takes in his soft eyes and shaking frame. She tries not to pay too much attention to the blood smeared on his cheek or the drying brown spots caked into his nails. No, she can’t focus on that because that’ll mean her girlfriend’s life is literally spread across him and she can’t handle that. Her stomach churns with the idea of it. So, instead she takes sips of her water and watches her friends mill around the waiting room as they all try to avoid getting in her path. Thankfully, Fangs is mostly silent as he sits beside her and bounces his knee and squeaks his sneakers against the tiles.

“What does she say?” Cheryl sniffles, and wide eyes blink towards her as his brow furrows. “When she talks about me? What does she say? Does she...does she really talk about me that much?”

“All the time. Y’know, she’s always been a flirt. Always liked to play games.” Fangs whispers as he stares down into his cup of water. “Until you. She told Sweets and me that you weren’t a game, that you were the real deal.”

Cheryl swallows down a sob, “Oh.”

The second she closes her eyes, Cheryl can almost see Toni smiling as she tells Fangs and Sweet Pea about her. She can picture the way her girlfriend bounces on her toes when she’s excited and the way her brown eyes shine whenever she is rambling about something. If she tries hard enough, she can picture Toni the way she’s supposed to be; she can picture her laid out in their bed in an oversized t-shirt and holding Blossom, she can picture Toni as something other than a bloody mess.

“Um, this is hers.” Fangs frowns as he arches his hips up to pull a necklace from his back pocket. “I nabbed it before the ambulance took off, she’d never forgive me if something happened to it. It was her mom’s.”

“Thank you. I’ll make sure to give it back to her as soon as she wakes up.” Cheryl murmurs as she stares down at the pool of silver Fangs releases into her palm. “She loves this locket.”

“She beat the shit out of some kid in fourth grade when he tried to steal it from her.” Fangs snorts, but Cheryl hears no humor in his tone. “She never takes it off. I’m uh sure you’ve noticed that. It’s kinda like Jug’s beanie, it’s just a part of who she is.”

Cheryl falls silent as she clutches the necklace, “Can I ask you something?”

Fangs nods, “Of course.”

“What happened? I know Toni, I’ve seen her fight, she doesn’t leave herself open like this.” Cheryl hisses. “She’s too smart, her moves are too calculated. So, why was she so distracted?”

“I…” Fangs trails off with a frown.

“Fangs. Please.”

Fangs runs a hand through his dark locks, “The meeting had just broke and we were walking back to our bikes when a group of Ghoulies came around talking all kinds of shit. We ignored it up until they started running their mouths about FP.”

“You mean Jughead ignored it until they started talking about FP?” Cheryl corrects.

“Yeah. Kinda. They just…jumped us. It was nine against four, and Tiny got caught up in a group of three with Jughead. He turned away for a second and then they all scattered, when he turned back around she was on the ground.” Fangs mutters, and his jaw flexes in pain. “There was too much blood for us to just take her to one of our trailers, Jughead ended up calling an ambulance.”

Cheryl sucks her wobbling lower lip into her mouth as she gives a hard swallow, “W-Was she in pain? Did she say anything?”

“She’s Toni, of course she said things.” Fangs replies, and Cheryl cringes at the chuckle he forces out. “She was…crying. And Tiny doesn’t ever cry so we knew it was bad.”

“I need her to be okay.” Cheryl whimpers.

“You and me both.” Fangs sighs. “Toni’s been one of my best friends since second grade, she lived with me and my pops for a few months. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Cheryl smiles softly, “She adores you.”

“And she adores you.” Fangs shrugs as his expression turns serious. “We’ve all gotta keep her safe, y’know? Sweets and I may be her big brothers or whatever, but you got her entire heart. I know we’ve told you before, but…don’t break her heart, alright? She won’t live through it.”

Cheryl scoffs, “Break her heart? She’s the one who got stabbed! What about my heart?”

Fangs smirks as he slaps a giant hand on her small shoulder, “You can punish her when we finally see her, alright?”

Cheryl hangs on to the fact that he says when and not if. Out of all the Serpents, Fangs is the most gentle; Toni has told her about his past, how he joined the gang for the sake of his terminally ill mother. He has such a huge heart, and Cheryl smiles softly as she glances momentarily into his warm eyes. He leaves shortly after and Sweet Pea takes his spot in silence. It gives Cheryl too much time to think, too much time to drown in her racing thoughts. What would she do if Toni died? What if there was a complication and Toni bled out on the table? Cheryl had seen so much loss in her life and Toni had been the shining light at the end, she didn’t think she’d survive if she lost Toni too.

Sweet Pea nudges her softly, “You okay?”

“Okay? Far from it.” Cheryl scoffs as she swipes at a single falling tear. “How could this happen? She’s always so careful.”

“Tiny thinks with her heart too much.” Sweet Pea replies. “When those Ghoulies brought their knives out, she stopped watching her own back. She was just trying to protect us.”

“She’s an idiot.” Cheryl whispers.

“Oh, totally. But she’s your idiot.” Sweet Pea teases, and Cheryl finally cracks a smile. “She’s going to be fine. Just watch, she’ll be up and annoying the nurses within the next few days.”

“I just wish they’d tell us something.” Cheryl grumbles. “It’s torture just sitting here and waiting.”

“Thomas will tell us as soon as he knows something. It could be a while.” Sweet Pea warns as his knee bounces nervously. “So, do you want me to take you home…?”

“No. Of course not.” Cheryl scowls as she looks to Sweet Pea. “I’m not leaving until I see her. And I am not getting on your metal death trap. I’ve seen you drive before, it isn’t pleasant.”

Sweet Pea gives a forced smirk, “You have no problem getting on Tiny’s bike, and that girl uses her speed to make up for her lack of height.”

“Toni is a fantastic driver.” Cheryl sniffs, stumbling a bit over her girlfriend’s name. “At least let her be here to defend herself before you insult her.”

“She’s going to be alright. She’s tough.” Sweet Pea says gruffly, the Serpent on his neck glaring as he swallows thickly.

“I can’t lose her, Pea.” Cheryl whispers brokenkly.

Sweet Pea heaves a breath as he lifts his arm and Cheryl falls into his side. As she sits there, Cheryl realizes she hasn’t felt this bad in a while, not since Toni came into her life. This moment doesn’t feel right, not when everything has been so good for so long. Not when her nights have consisted of watching Toni dance in her underwear in the living room, not when her mornings are spent kissing her girlfriend against the counter and feeding her strawberries. Not when everything that has been so wrong has suddenly began to feel so right.

It doesn’t make sense, all of this. This isn’t supposed to be how their night went. Toni was supposed to pick her up, kiss her on the forehead and ask her if she wanted to go home. They were supposed to go home to Blossom, to shower together, and curl in bed together. She isn’t supposed to be sitting in a hospital waiting room, she isn’t meant to be counting the speckles of blood on Sweet Pea’s nails. But she is. So, she sits there and watches the time bleed together as she waits for Toni’s grandpa to receive some type of update on his granddaughter’s condition.

“Cheryl?”

The sound of her name is like someone slinging a cold bucket of water over her head as a chill runs down her spine. With swollen eyes, Cheryl slowly lifts her head and stares at the innocent, hesitant form of Betty Cooper. Just the sight of her stupid ponytail and powder blue cardigan sends a bolt of anger through her as she lifts her head from Sweet Pea’s shoulder. She sees the hesitance that shines in those bright blue eyes, and it only sparks the fire that crackles low in her stomach.

“What?”

Betty swallows hard, “Jug and I are going to head back to his trailer, he um…he wants to get cleaned up. Can I…is there anything you need us to get you before we go?”

“No.” Cheryl snaps.

“Okay. Is there anything you need us to get while we’re out? And I mean anything.” Betty replies with a look of desperation. “Jug said we can stop by Thistlehouse and check on Blossom.”

“He’s fine. I’m fine.” Cheryl hisses. “Toni is not.”

“Cheryl, I am so sorry this happened.” Betty softly murmurs with a grimace. “I’m just glad that no one else was hurt. Jug has a…”

“I don’t care about your boyfriend, you walking All American Doll.” Cheryl growls as her grasp tightens on the handles of the chair. “This is his fault. He should’ve never provoked those Ghoulies.”

“Jughead wasn’t trying…”

“I don’t care, Betty.” Cheryl scoffs. “Look at where we are. Look at what happened. I talked to Sweet Pea and Fangs, they told me that Toni tried to get Jughead to walk away but he wouldn’t. So this? This is on him no matter what you say.”

“Cheryl, that’s not fair.” Betty whispers.

Cheryl stands quickly, “It’s not fair? No, what isn’t fair is that your boyfriend has caused problems a million different times and somehow Toni always ends up in the middle of it. It isn’t fair that my girlfriend was stabbed yet Jughead is walking around looking just fine. So, don’t talk to me about fair right now.”

“Jughead was defending his dad…”

“He started a fight that he had no business beginning. I will always stand by my Serpent brothers, but I’ll also admit when they’re wrong. And Jughead? He was wrong.” Fangs sighs as he stands beside Cheryl. “Toni could’ve died.”

“But she didn’t!” Betty exclaims. “She’s going to be okay.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that you had a medical degree.” Cheryl sneers, and Betty simply rolls her eyes. “You know nothing, Betty.”

“I’m not trying to upset you, Cheryl.” Betty sighs.

“Well, that ship has already sailed and sunk. Consider me upset.” Cheryl replies. “My girlfriend could’ve died and you really want to stand in front of me and defend the person who caused this. Honestly, you can go and fuck yourself.”

“Alright. Retract your claws.” Sweet Pea snaps as he finally heaves himself from his chair. “This isn’t going to fix anything, it won’t change what happened. So, let’s drop this. For Toni’s sake.”

“I was only trying to offer to help.” Betty sighs with a look of defeat. “It’s not my fault that Cheryl has such a hard time believing there are other people in her life that care about her.”

Cheryl swells with immediate rage, “You do not want to go there.”

“Guys,” Veronica pleads as she joins them. “Sweet Pea is right, the doctor is going to come out with an update soon and he’ll throw us all out if he sees us fighting. Betty, just apologize.”

“For what?” Betty demands. “All I did was offer to get her something, to pick up some coffee for her. I know she’s dealing with all of this, but so are the rest of us. Jughead is…”

Cheryl shakes with annoyance, “Get out.”

“I…”

“I said get out!” Cheryl exclaims as she points towards the doors. “It’s clear all you care about is Jughead, and I don’t want to stare at your pitiful puppy dog eyes anymore. So, take Draco Malfoy home and leave me be.”

“Stop. Both of you.” Fangs calmly orders.

“Family of Antoinette?”

Cheryl turns from Betty in time to watch as a man in scrubs leads Thomas off to the side. As she stands there, she feels a hand clutch at her own and she looks into the comforting brown eyes of Veronica while Kevin slides up beside her. It seems like forever as she stares at the doctor, watches him speak quietly to Toni’s grandfather before the man claps Thomas on the shoulder and says something that makes him nod. As soon as she meets a strong, steady gaze she feels her knees go weak and Kevin immediately wraps a protective arm around her waist as she stumbles back while Thomas walks to them with a stone faced expression.

“She’s okay.”

Two little words. Two simple, amazing words and Cheryl bursts into tears.

“The surgery went fine, just had to do some patching up.” Thomas explains in a gruff tone. “She won’t be up for visitors for the next few days, doctor has her on some strong stuff. I appreciate everyone sticking around for her.”

“You let us know as soon as she’s awake.”

Cheryl barely lifts her gaze from the hospital floor as she hears FP’s commanding tone. Once again, it’s all just a blur. She doesn’t hear Kevin whisper a goodbye and an order to call him. She doesn’t remember hugging Veronica or feeling Archie kiss her cheek. She can barely form words when Betty finally says something about leaving, and all she can choke out is a thank you. The exhaustion of the situation hits her, and Cheryl finds herself breathless as she glances up and sees that the once packed waiting room only houses herself, Sweet Pea, Fangs, and Thomas. Toni’s family. Her whole world. The four people she holds the closest.

“She’s only allowed to see family.” Thomas frowns as he looks to them. “But if you happen to sneak into her room without me seeing then there’s nothing I can do. It’s room eighty five.”

The trio hurries off to the room and Cheryl squeezes past Sweet Pea to peer through the crack in the door. It takes her breath away as soon as she sees Toni, so peaceful and bruised. With a shudder of a breath, Cheryl pushes into the room and hurries across the floor as she reaches for Toni’s hand before she pulls it to her lips and presses gentle kisses to each one of her knuckles. A slow tear trails down her face as she stares at Toni, takes in the dried blood from her split lip and the nasty black eye that is beginning to swell. She takes in the wires and machines, the steady beep of a heartbeat, and files the knowledge of seeing that her girlfriend is okay. She’s alive.

“Hey, baby. You scared me.” Cheryl whispers as she stares down at Toni. “I hope you know that you have a very long lecture coming your way. Prepare yourself for a PowerPoint.”

Sweet Pea stands back and keeps a close eye on the couple; Cheryl’s fire has returned and he knows the sight of Toni is what sparked it. Once again, he sees life and happiness bleed into eyes that were once so empty. He can see how much Cheryl adores his best friend, he sees it in the way she whispers softly to Toni while her lips leave gentle kisses on her bruised and scarred knuckles. He feels it radiate off her and through the room, and he finds that it makes him warm and light.

“You need to wake up,” Cheryl sighs as she stares down at Toni. “I can’t do this without you, you’re my clarity. So, open those gorgeous eyes so I can feel a little more sane.”

Fangs nudges him with a smirk, “We were right about her, dude.”

“Yeah.” Sweet Pea whispers as he watches Cheryl lay her head down on Toni’s mattress. “She really is Tiny’s soulmate.”

[curlsandcrown]

That’s the Spirit (Serpent Princess #4)

Summary: It’s Christmas and, despite their hard exteriors, the Cooper women are the biggest fans of the holiday. Betty is determined to get Jughead into the spirit. (Ao3) Word Count: 3,025 Warnings: some smut (18+), pure fluff

Part One / Part Two / Part Three 

Four: That’s the Spirit

Without a doubt, Thanksgiving is his favorite holiday as a teenager. There’s a giant turkey, so many different forms of potatoes, the other occasional vegetables that taste better this time of year, then dessert. Don’t even get him started on the dessert that he can pair with a Pop’s milkshake. All the pies, the cake, even the weird sweetened salads that Archie’s mom loves to make.

But just like that, the second that it hits midnight, it’s all about Christmas. Sure, maybe he’s a bit of a Grinch because he never had an amazing holiday like so many others have had like Archie and Veronica.

This Thanksgiving though, he falls asleep at Betty’s house after her mom cooked the most delicious turkey he has ever had. Even his dad passed out on the couch from their post-dinner meat haze. He rolls to the side, reaching for his girlfriend and feels cold sheets underneath his palm. Jughead groans then sees that it’s nearly nine in the morning when he looks over her pillow to the alarm clock.

He moves to pull on some sweatpants and groggily walks to the door while trying to get his hair into some semblance of order, leaving his beanie on the nightstand for the time being. It’s absurdly bright in the Cooper’s living room so he rubs his eyes until they get used to the sunlight. When he opens them, he stops in his place and looks around.

His girlfriend and her mom are Christmas freaks.

With all the dark colors they wear in the gang, he was surprised when he first saw their house - all light, bright and airy with a classic well worn homey feel. But even now, he wasn’t expecting the massive amount of Christmas decorations that are littering the place, including the giant tree sitting in the corner.

“When the hell did they go get a real Christmas tree?” Jughead keeps looking around in shock until his eyes land on his dad on the couch. The older man is lying there but instead of the navy blue blanket that he went to sleep with, it got exchanged for a bright red one that has cheerful snowmen and snowflakes on it.

If it all wasn’t so horrifying, he would be laughing his ass off right now.

Jughead plops down in a chair, throwing his leg over the side then turns on the TV. He’s not entirely sure where the Cooper women are at but he definitely doesn’t smell food so he figures he’ll relax until Betty comes home so he can conserve water and shower together, even if she already showered to put up the monstrosity of lights all along the walls.

At some point, he falls asleep again. Jughead wakes up to the smell of something baking and stretches out on the armchair. His dad is awake, watching whatever is up on TV while eating a bowl of cereal.

“Morning, son.”

“Morning,” he mumbles out before sniffing the air. “What are they making?”

“Alice is making something for dinner out of the leftovers. It was either a turkey sandwich or cereal but if we’re having more turkey later then I wanted something different.” He shrugs and spoons in another mouthful.

“I’m gonna go shower and maybe grab some cereal.” He stretches and moves towards Betty’s room, walking to his drawer to take out his change of clothes which is really just another color variation of what he wore yesterday.

“Hi, Juggie.”

He turns and smiles at his girlfriend, dressed up in a red sweater and tan ankle boots, a big change from her usual Serpent colors. She moves into the room and closes the door before collapsing onto her bed.

“Looks like you’ve had quite the busy morning, babe,” he teases before moving over and running his hands up her jean-clad thighs then rests his hands on either side of Betty’s hips.

She nods. “We love to decorate the day after Thanksgiving.”

“I can see that by the glitter infested ornaments and garland hanging around.”

This gets her attention and Betty leans up onto her elbows, looking into his eyes. “You don’t like Christmas?”

He sighs though Jughead knew this was going to come out sooner or later. “We've never had a spectacular Christmas, Betts. The food my mom made was always burnt but the eggnog was out in full force. What is there to really love anyway? Ugly Christmas sweaters, creepy Santa at the mall, crazy drivers….” He trails off before meeting her eyes again.

“Sugar cookies, the smell of a real Christmas tree, wood crackling in the fireplace, hot cocoa,” she trails off then leans up to brush her lips against his. “Mistletoe,” she whispers before pecking his lips and lying back down.

Jughead hums and leans down to kiss her again. “Mistletoe and cookies may be the only good things.”

“Oh come on! You haven't worn anything festive before?”

“Hell no and right now, I don't want to be wearing anything at all. Want to come shower with me?”

“Absolutely!” Betty jumps up and pulls him towards the shower.

Betty hates the fact that her boyfriend doesn't enjoy Christmas. She knows from her mother that FP had a harder time making Christmas special for Jughead after his mother took JB and left. And while they never had them over before, she knows that will change now that they're a Serpent family of sorts. The man that is basically a father figure to her always declined the past few years but now that she and Jughead are older he can't refuse especially since his son is dating Alice's daughter.

So she ends up at the mall in Greendale, trying to find something festive yet subtle for her boyfriend to wear to the wrapping/holiday party they're throwing at the Whyte Wyrm.

Betty is perusing through the men's section, noticing they don't have much along the lines of nice Christmas attire. All of it seems based on tacky Christmas sweater parties. She feels like she'll be resigned to getting a solid colored sweater for the holidays rather than his dark, neutral colors he seems to be attached to.

All of a sudden, something catches her eyes and she smiles widely as she approaches a stand. In front of her, there's a multitude of cute but masculine Christmas designs. Betty picks out her two favorites and quickly checks out before driving over to Jughead's place.

She knocks then walks in, moving towards her boyfriend's room. “Juggie?” Betty calls out then walks in. He's typing fervently at his laptop before looking up to meet her eyes.

“Hey, Betts.”

Tossing the bag onto the bed, she moves next to him and glances at the laptop. “What are you working on?”

“A piece for the Blue and Gold about the River Vixens that Cheryl threatened me with.”

She makes a face and lays back on his pillow. “Threatened?”

“Does hostilely asked sound better?”

“Not quite. Try again, Romeo.”

Jughead laughs and types a bit more before shutting the computer. “She said I need to write about the Vixens or she'll get Weatherbee to shut us down. Which he wouldn't but I caved because Veronica is on the squad.”

“Such a softie,” Betty murmurs before curling up into his side. He makes a non-committal noise then buries his nose in her hair. “I got you something for the party.”

“Christ, should I be nervous it's some Christmas monstrosity?” He pulls back and his blue eyes meet hers. “Don't demasculinize me in the Wyrm, baby.”

“I wouldn't dare.”

She moves out of his arms and grabs the bag, dangling it in front of his face. He snatches it and peeks inside.

“If you hate them, then I'll return it and I'll never force anything Christmas on your person again.”

Jughead sits up and opens the bag, dumping the contents on the bed while Betty is settled sitting on his thighs. He frowns when they're wrapped in what seems like butcher paper before giving his girlfriend a look. She laughs a bit and shrugs. Her eyes move to the wrapped presents and linger on his digits as he tears the paper apart. Soon a set of suspenders are revealed, one that has red and black plaid while the other is black with Santa hats on them.

“Christmas suspenders?” He says with a laugh.

She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as he looks them over, reaching for the suspenders he has in his hand at the moment. “Do you like them?”

His fingers move over the patterns and he smirks. “Yeah, actually. I do. Thank you, baby.”

Later that night as they're wrapping presents, he actually gets quite a few compliments from the other Serpents on his suspenders. They don't seem to be the jolliest bunch but after he gets comments from Toni and Sweet Pea, Jughead decides he likes them even more.

He and Toni are talking while taping the bright wrapping paper when Alice breezes over from another group.

“How are things going over here?”

“Great, boss. Even if everything that Jug wraps looks like a train ran over it.” Toni says with a laugh.

The blonde laughs along then moves her eyes down to his suspenders hanging down by his hips. “That must be my daughter's doing.”

Jughead thumbs the plaid suspenders and nods. “Guess she wanted me to be in more of a festive mood.”

Alice hugs him briefly -much to Toni's surprise- but before she pulls away, she murmurs, “Be glad I talked her out of the Grinch ones that she sent me a photo of.”

He laughs with a slight shake of his head and turns back to his work before a set of arms wrap around his middle. Without needing to look, he knows who it is. “I heard you had some other interesting suspenders picked out for me.”

“Mhm. Lucky for you she said no. Would you have worn them?”

“Probably but only because they would have been from you.” He turns and leans back against the table, pulling Betty closer to his body. Jughead leans down to kiss her then looks around the Whyte Wyrm with all the presents wrapped up. “It's cool that you guys do this.”

“Mom likes to give back to the community.”

He kisses her temple then glances back over at Toni who is talking animatedly with Fangs while the other guy sets down some hot chocolate.

“How does she do it all?”

“One day, you'll see. Maybe you can ask her at Christmas.

“Maybe. Where have you been hiding while I'm struggling to wrap oddly shaped toys?”

“Wrapping your present. I just got it a few hours ago and wanted to get it set up to go under the tree.”

“Baby, you didn't have to get me anything.”

At that, she rolls her eyes and he can't help but chuckle at her expression. “The point of gifts at Christmas is to give. And it's something I wanted you to have.”

He hums at her before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Roll your eyes at me again and I'll get you on the naughty list.”

Jughead hears her quick gasp before he pulls back to start wrapping presents again. Betty moves over to stand by Toni, the two talking almost instantly like they didn't just see each other. His fingers make quick work with the paper, taping it strategically so it won't fall apart then finishes it off by smacking a bow on it.

“Perfect,” he says before pushing it to the center of the table.

This attracts Betty's attention and her jaw drops in horror. He didn't think it looked so bad but the way his girlfriend is staring at it makes him question his decision before he shrugs.

“They're just going to tear it all off anyway, Betts.”

She rolls her eyes and his eyebrows shoot up towards his forehead. Betty reaches to rewrap it but his own hand moves forward to grab her wrist before he tilts his head towards her room upstairs. A blush works its way over her chest before she turns to go up the steps. He waits a few minutes, wrapping another present before he moves upstairs to his waiting girlfriend.

After closing the door, he turns to see her sitting on a desk with her legs crossed. Her eyes immediately darken as he moves in front of her, dropping to sit in the chair by the desk. Jughead looks her over, Serpent jacket left downstairs by the bar, golden waves falling over her shoulders.

He sits up and sheds his own jacket, tossing it next to her on the desk before leaning back.

“Have you been bad, Betty?”

All she does is nod, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. He crooks his finger at her then looks down to his lap. Betty moves over to straddle his legs then brings her lips down to hover over his, silently asking permission as their eyes meet. Jughead moves forward just a bit before she surges closer to kiss him. Her lips are bruising his but he stands up to deposit her on the desk, angling his head to kiss her deeper.

Pulling back with a gasp, she whines at the loss of contact between them. “Touch me, Jug. Please.”

He grasps the bottom of her shirt, pulling the fabric up and over her head then tosses it onto his jacket then moves to her bra. His fingers make quick work of the clasp then gets rid of that item as well. Stepping back, he looks at his breathless girlfriend as he licks his lips. Jughead wants to kiss and lick every visible inch of he body but she whines again, causing him to move and touch her puckered nipple.

The day that Christmas gets there, Jughead finds himself at the Cooper residence again with his father. There are gifts under the tree for all them while Alice cooks up pancakes in the kitchen. Surprisingly enough, they're not lounging around in pajamas - to his dismay- but there's a fire going in the fireplace while snow flurries are falling to the ground outside.

Betty is curled up against his side, texting Veronica about what the raven-haired girl got Archie. She laughs a little before shaking her head and putting the phone away.

“Let me guess, something super extravagant that Archie wasn’t expecting?”

She hums and curls closer to him, her fingers stroking his suspenders. It’s something that he’s noticed her doing more lately rather than pulling at the fabric of his shirts. “Of course. Something about a watch but he got her a locket, which I’m sure you knew about.”

“Actually, I didn’t.” He shrugs and is about to ask her something when Alice’s voice calls out.

“Jughead! Betty! Will you two come help grab everything to take into the living room? We can eat then open presents.”

He jumps up at the mention of food and hauls his girlfriend up by her hand. “C’mon Betts. Food is waiting!”

“Don’t you ever get full?” She laughs as Betty follows him into the kitchen.

“If you think it’s bad now, imagine him as a kid!” FP calls out behind them.

Alice just laughs and pushes all the food towards them to haul into the living room. On the second trip, he has utensils in his hands while Betty is going into the kitchen to grab something to drink. She pauses and quietly murmurs his name. Jughead glances over to her but Betty is looking up.

“Mistletoe,” she says with a smile before leaning in closer.

His eyes move up once more then he leans down to brush his lips against hers. It’s meant to be a quick kiss but Betty’s hands latch onto his suspenders, the Santa hat ones that she got him, pulling him closer as her thumbs brush over the festive material. With his free hand, Jughead wraps it around one hip and pulls her closer, angling his head to deepen the kiss.

Betty falls more into him, her hands sliding up the material since he’s wearing them properly over his sweater at the moment. She pulls them down, letting the straps fall to his waist while her tongue moves against his.

“Alright you two, that’s enough! The food is getting cold and I know you’re hanging out underneath the mistletoe!”

His girlfriend pulls away as Alice’s voice reaches them, sighing a bit. Her fingers move over the material before she bites her bottom lip.

“Have I ever mentioned that I love your suspenders?”

Jughead moves his head in a ‘no’ like fashion then moves a finger under her chin, leaning down to kiss her one more time. “You can show me how much you like them later.”

She grins and moves into the kitchen, grabbing her drink before they settle back in the living room. They all take turns eating and opening presents. He’s thrilled about the typewriter that Betty gets him, along with more suspenders and t-shirts from Alice, and a new motorcycle helmet from his dad. As Alice and FP finish opening their gifts, he leans over and kisses Betty’s cheek while she tears up over her own present from him, ignoring the few things she got from her mother and FP.

“Do you like it, Betts?”

Her green eyes look down at the signed first edition of Beloved by Toni Morrison, fingers stroking the letters before looking over to him. “I love it, Jug. I don’t think I got you enough. I mean…”

He rests his finger against her lips. “Stop, Betts. That’s not the point of Christmas. I knew you would love it and besides, this typewriter! Best thing I have ever gotten besides meeting you.”

They smile at each other before Betty leans over to snap his suspender which he pulled back onto his shoulders before he got back to their parents. “Best Christmas ever?”

He nods then kisses her again. “Best one yet. I don’t think we’ll ever be able to top this.”

“Oh, Juggie. You don’t know us Coopers very well, do you?”

Happy Holidays! As always, requests are open. Written by J.

J + R

[soyforramen]

number 1 from the list of prompts, for varchie!

Update: I am an unorganized mess, and this was the one for 39, not 1.  Mea culpa.

I played with the timeline for this because iirc this whole arc took, like, five days and that makes no sense at all. Also, did you know twelfth has an f in it?

From this list.

xxxx

On the outskirts of Riverdale, Archie watched as Jughead spoke into the payphone, letting Betty and F.P. know where they were, what he was doing.  Even from this distance his posture was relaxed, calm.  It was a direct contrast to how Archie was feeling, every nerve, every muscle, every joint ready to be gone from here.  

Archie was grateful beyond words that Jughead had insisted on going with him when he found out about the bounty.  That he’d refused to let Archie go through this alone, even though some part of Archie knew Jughead’s insistence had more to do with living out the lives of so many of those long dead authors he worshiped.

But Jughead wasn’t the person who Archie wanted to be crossing the country with.

A surge of longing shot through him as he did his best not to dial that number he knew by heart.  The number he knew could soothe some of this pain.  He slipped a hand into his coat pocket where his cell phone lay dead from the last two days on the road.  His thumb ran over the glossy surface, keying in the number as it went.

Even if he could talk to her, she’d tell him what he didn’t want to hear.  What he didn’t want to believe.  She’d tell him they could work this out together.  That together they could stand up to anything.  Whatever stood against Veronica Lodge would fall when it came in front of her determination.  

Everything she would tell him would be enough to make him second guess his footing.  Enough to second guess this self-imposed exile.

She’d be angry, too.  Angry that he’d left her without a word.  And she’d have every right to that anger.  

But this time, Archie couldn’t let himself be convinced by her.  He couldn’t risk her getting hurt because of him.  Too many people already had. 

There was blood on his hands, blood that could never wash out.  Blood that would only stain her silk satin sheets.  Blood that would turn her white pearls a murderous pink.

He’d stain her to her soul, and that was one thing Archie couldn’t do.  

Jughead hung up and Archie stood to wipe the dirt from his jeans.  He scraped his palms across the denim, a small burning ache lingering across them.  The ghost of her hand around his wrist called to him and he tried to rub the feeling away.

Concern splashed across his face, Jughead gave Archie a side-long glance.  It was obvious he wanted to talk, probably about whatever Betty wanted to pass along.  But Jughead passed on doing so.  Instead he fell into step with Archie as they walked the silent road to Greendale, both heavy with something neither could quite put a word to.

Late at night, cicadas screaming around them and the smell of hay heavy in the air, Archie stared at the stars above them.  Next to him, Jughead snored and rolled over.  He’d always been able to sleep no matter the circumstances.  A survival instinct, he’d once called it.  Archie hadn’t understood what he’d meant at the time, and even now it made little sense.  Sleep was a luxury now, one Archie couldn’t afford to indulge in.  Not with so much running through his head, and even more running after him.

It had been a week since they’d first come to the farm, but time meant nothing to him now.  It stretched out into a puddle disturbed by a rock skipped across it, the ripples distorting days and minutes into one and the same. 

On the farm, time held no meaning outside of day and night.  Things were simple.  Wake at dawn, feed the animals.  Heavy labor the rest of the day, broken up by a meal.  The physical work took his mind off everything he’d been running from.  It wasn’t hard to see him living out the rest of his days here.  

Jughead, though, was unnerved by this place.  Those he’d spoke to in town had unsettled him, the dice seeming to follow him at every turn, a reminder and an omen of Riverdale.  But for Archie, this place felt safe.  

And as guilty as he felt about it, Laura made him feel safe.  With how sweet she’d been to her sister, with how kind she’d been to open her doors to two strange travelers.  She’d understood how hard it had been for them when Archie had told her the truth.  She had even gone so far as to ask if there was anything else she could do for them.

He hadn’t felt this safe in a long time.  

No, that wasn’t true.  There had been one place.  One person.

That safety was long gone, along with it his rose-colored dreams of their future together.  Both had been dashed to pieces under the strange circumstances they’d both found themself in.

Jughead’s phone pinged, its screen throwing up an eerie glow.  While Jughead slept on, Archie’s fingers crept towards it.  It would be so easy to make one phone call.  So easy to dial the number seared across his heart.

The phone went dark, the barn’s walls rushed up to fill in the space.  It was tight, choking the air out of this place. 

Archie shoved his feet into his shoes and ran out of the barn to escape it.

A knife against his throat helped put things into perspective, Archie realized.  It was a direct threat to his life, an indirect threat to everyone he’d cared about.  A threat that drove him further and further into the Canadian wilderness.  As hard as it was to leave Jughead behind, it was a million times hard to leave his father at the border.  Even with Vegas at his side, Archie’s future looked grim.

Jughead’s cell, slipped into Archie’s coat pocket at the junkyard, vibrated.  Archie glanced around, unsure if he was alone in such darkness, and pulled it out.  In the corner a single bar flashed, the first spot of service he’d had in hours.

He unlocked the screen only to find a text from Veronica, a jumble of words asking where they were, whether Archie was safe.  Why he wouldn’t talk to her. 

His vision blurred as a deep loneliness threatened to strangle him.  One more reminder that he wasn’t just leaving his family and friends behind.  He was leaving pieces of himself behind as well. 

It was all too much all at once.  He hit the call button one last time.  All he needed was to hear her voice one last time to get through this.  The phone rang through to Veronica’s voice, as velvet and lush as her hair, ordered him to leave a message, but he didn’t dare.  He’d already put her, and himself, in too much danger by calling.  

Archie shoved it to the bottom of his pack.   He headed deeper into the dark woods.

It had been pure, dumb luck when he’d found the old abandoned cabin in the woods just before dawn.  Wood had rotted away in some areas and weeds had grown up above the windowsill.  The door with its parks ranger sign fell off when Archie tugged it open, but the inside was relatively untouched, save for the racoons that had made a vacation home in the closet and the years of dust that covered every surface.

Archie fell into the old spring mattress, his body aching and his eyes closing of their own accord.  He barely noticed Vegas nestled up against him.

When he woke, the air around him was suffocatingly hot.  Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sun and a buzzing noise came from across the room.  He propped himself up on his elbows, a part of his dazed mind thinking ‘wasps’, but there was nothing there.  He fell asleep again and slept dreamlessly until the next dawn.

It was another two days of working to put the cabin back together that Archie remembered about the phone buried in his backpack.  He’d promised to send some signal back to his father when he’d found a place to stay and this shack looked as good as any.  He pulled the phone out and found that it still had a charge but no signal.  A trek to the nearby creek fixed that, and as he sent out a text to his father the phone buzzed with missed calls.

Fingers shaking, Archie held the phone up to his ear to listen to the solitary voicemail.  

“Please come home,” Veronica said, her voice thick and cracked.  “I miss you.”

A black heaviness started in his heart until it pooled down into his feet.  He listened to her voice again, another time.  A third, a fourth, a twelfth.  He listened to it again and again, a sickly sweet punishment for everything he’d done.  For all the pain he’d put her through.

Archie listened to the voicemail until the phone warned him it was about to die.  He wanted to call her again.  To tell her exactly where he was.  To beg her to come to him.  When the phone died, he stared at the phone.

It wasn’t until Vegas began barking that Archie woke up as if from a dream.  He picked the axe up and headed over the hill.