#here comes Jughead breaking the fourth wall again

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Also - in Riverdale Season 6 Jughead keeps walking around playing narrator Rod Serling style, and I'd like to think that everyone can actually see and hear him as he wanders through scenes, they've just chosen to ignore it.

[heytherejulietx]

“I’m happy for you.” ~ Bughead

Masterlists

Requests are OPEN

Notes - This is something taken out of my Wattpad book, which you can find here! I’d really appreciate if you could go and check it out, it’d mean a lot!

Warnings - None.

Word count - 2.2k.

"When did everything start going wrong?" Jughead whispered, his arm around Betty's waist, keeping her close as he spoke.

Betty didn't have an answer to his words. Everything had been perfect in the beginning. Having been friends for so long, they both had assumed that a relationship would be weird and wrong. But it was perfect. They were completely obsessed with each other - sleeping over each other's houses practically every night, messaging whenever they weren't together, kissing whenever they were alone. They had both shared their first time with each other. Granted, it was filled with embarrassed giggled and some awkward fumbling around, but it had been special nonetheless.

Though after high school had ended, the bliss of the relationship started to fall too. They both had ended up going to Yale, and thankfully managed to get a collage dorm together. But the stress of deadlines, being with each other all the time, and sleep deprivation from staying up to finish essays started to get to them. Betty and Jughead started fighting all the time, sometimes even ending in Jughead sleeping in one of his friend's dorms to give both himself and Betty space.

Both of them knew how it had to go, but neither of them wanted to end everything. They'd been through too much together, but it was getting too much. The fights were really affecting them both, and they couldn't do it anymore.

"I don't know." Betty whispered back, her eyes cast downwards on her hands. She knew if she looked at Jughead she'd start crying, and she had promised herself that she wasn't going to cry in front of him. "This is for the best, though."

"I know." Jughead muttered, lifting his free hand to start rubbing the blonde's arm gently, trying to give her some comfort.

Even though they were breaking up, Betty still appreciated Jughead's comfort. His touch still warmed her, to the point where she knew if he wasn't holding her she'd start crying. Her lip quivered though that was all, as she'd blinked back the tears that had started to burn along her waterline.

"We were good, weren't we?" Betty asked softly, causing a light chuckle to pass Jughead's lips that sounded forced.

"Yeah, we were. The best." Jughead responded, his arm subtly tightening around Betty's waist.

"When do you have to leave?" Betty questioned after another moment of silence.

Their split couldn't have been more perfect time-wise. College was over, and Jughead was moving to New York for a writing opportunity that he'd managed to get after a submission to their company a month back. Betty was staying in the dorm for another week, before she planned to move back to Riverdale for a little while as she considered her own options.

Jughead glanced at the clock on the wall opposite the bed they were both seated on, before breathing out a quiet sigh. "Ten minutes." He responded.

"You be careful, okay?" Betty asked, the tears starting to burn along her waterline again as she swallowed back the lump forming in her throat. "New York is a little while away."

"I will, I promise." Jughead nodded. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I will be." She responded after a pause. Of course Jughead was going to be incredibly hard to get over, but she was confident that after some time she'd move on and get on with her life.

The first tear slipped down her cheek, her hand lifting up to catch it quickly. The action hadn't been missed by Jughead, who leaned down to press a lingering kiss against her temple. "Good." He whispered as he pulled away.

"I'm gonna miss you, Betty Cooper." He muttered quietly.

"Yeah," Betty whispered back, tears falling faster as the lump in her throat returned. "I'll miss you too."

The next time Betty heard from Jughead was a good few years later. To help herself move on, she had thought it was better to cut all contacts; getting rid of his number, his Instagram account, and even his email. Though it didn't help, not really. She'd gotten into a few relationships after him, though they had all ended pretty quickly afterwards. Betty missed him more than she realised. She missed the way he would touch her with such care to make sure she felt loved. She missed the way he'd kiss her passionately in the night but gently and loving in the morning. She missed him being her boyfriend, and her being his girlfriend. It felt a little pathetic, that after so long she was still missing her ex. But she couldn't get over him.

The small white envelope addressed to Betty in fancy handwriting had been dropped off on Betty's doorstep in Riverdale - where she was taking over the Riverdale Register for her mother after she'd retired. The blonde was confused as she picked it up, not recognising the handwriting nor knowing why she would have a letter other than her bills and occasional letters from Polly.

What was inside was the last thing she'd expected.

The first thing she saw was Jughead's name at the top, his full name. Next to another woman's whom she had no idea who they were.

The second thing she saw was the date for the wedding.

Betty didn't know why she had started to cry at first, but the small white card caused the lump in her throat to form quickly as the tears built up. The card was dropped onto the table as she started crying properly, sitting in one of the dining chairs as she cried into her hands.

It took her a while to decide whether she was going to go. At first she had completely sworn off of the idea, thinking it would be too much, but after a phone call from Veronica - who was still her best friend after all of the years - she'd managed to look at it in a different light. Maybe seeing Jughead happy with someone else would give her some closure, seeing him again might hurt but it would also make her move on.

So the following weekend she'd sent the letter back to say she'd be attending the ceremony, and the following July she'd flown all the way out to New York to attend the wedding.

So the hotel wouldn't be as expensive, Betty and Veronica had decided to share a room together and split the cost between them (though Veronica had insisted to pay it all herself, Betty had the decency to insist she pay her share).

The dress she'd picked for the wedding wasn't too flashy, but it was still beautiful. It was a blush pink Chiffon dress, that was floor-length with an open back and a somewhat low neckline. To go with it she'd picked out some simple heels of the same colour, and on the day matched it with some light makeup, spare the light pink eyeshadow and lipstick.

Her arm had been looped with Veronica's as she'd walked into the chapel where the ceremony was taking place, seating with the raven-haired girl in the fourth row, with others from their high school such as Kevin Keller, Toni Topaz and Cheryl Blossom (who had come as a couple, as they'd gotten engaged the year prior), Sweet-Pea, and Fangs Fogarty (who Veronica had said was oogling Kevin from the moment he'd seen him). Archie was there too, but he was stood at the front of the chapel as Jughead's best man.

Betty hadn't looked at Jughead as she'd walked in, who was stood talking to Archie and his dad whilst everyone waited for the bride to come in. But she had made eye contact with him once she had sat down. He had sent her a half smile, which she returned with one of her own paired with a small wave, before his attention had been taken by Archie again.

Jughead looked the same. His hair was still the same length, he was still the same height and slim but muscular build; the only difference was that his head wasn't crowned with his grey beanie anymore.

"Betty," Veronica mumbled, tapping her arm lightly. "Are you okay?"

Betty just shrugged, not able to respond as the music had started filling the room, and everybody stood up to see the bride walk in.

She was beautiful, was what Betty noticed first of all. Annabelle Hope had been the name written on the wedding invitation, which she knew was soon to be Annabelle Jones. Her hair was a deep umber colour, which was pinned up into a bun that had small white flowers pinned to the strands. She looked to be somewhat taller than Betty, with a petite figure that made her look a little smaller than she actually was. Her dress was a simple but elegant strapless mermaid dress, with a matching lace train that was clipped to her hair with a small silver tiara.

Betty watched Annabelle for a moment, before glancing back towards Jughead. His smile was so wide and his eyes filled with both adoration and happy tears. An expression that she hadn't seen in years, maybe even since before the start of college. She was clearly loved dearly by him.

The ceremony went as smoothly as anything. They both read their elegantly scripted vows, Jughead's one causing Betty to almost get emotional, before they'd given each other their rings and kissed shortly after. Veronica had reached for Betty's hand during the service, which she accepted with a light squeeze.

The wedding reception was just as beautiful as the service. It was in the hall of the hotel that everybody was staying at, making it convenient for everybody attending who didn't live in the area. Golden lights were strung everywhere, white chairs and tables in one side of the room with the food table and the wedding cake, whilst the other was a dance floor.

Betty chatted with some of her old friends for a while, catching up on Cheryl and Toni's plan to adopt, on Kevin's new job which had him a director at a theatre, and on other little things. Though about half an hour into the reception she'd gone to the bar to get herself a drink, soon finding herself stood next to the groom.

"It was a beautiful service." Betty told him softly as she turned to face him, smiling softly. It was oddly normal to talk to him, despite how many years it had been and how they had spent their last time together.

"Thank you." Jughead nodded. "Annabelle did most of the planning, she's got more of an artistic eye than I could ever have." He chuckled before taking a sip of his own drink, which Betty could see was rum and coke - the same drink of his choice when they were together.

"You look beautiful, by the way." Jughead told her, his smile softening as he lightly touched her arm for a moment. "I'm glad you came, Betty. I wouldn't put it past you if you hadn't, but I'm glad you came."

"I... I wasn't going to go originally, I thought it might be weird for you having your ex at your wedding," Betty told him, putting aside the truth of how it would have been too hard for her. "But Veronica persuaded me in the end."

"It was actually Annabelle's idea to invite you." Jughead told Betty, causing her eyebrows to furrow in confusion. "I've spoken about you before, and she said it might be good to see you again."

"Oh." Betty nodded, a little surprised that he had spoken about her, though it did make her smile to know he still thought about her. It was a selfish thought, but she couldn't help it.

"Jug?" Betty asked softly after another moment. "I just uhm, I just wanted to say..." she paused for a moment, knowing how her next words were going to go. Was she really about to tell Jughead that she still loved him on his wedding day? Her green orbs glanced at Annabelle for a moment, who was dancing with Jughead's father on the dance floor. She looked already like a part of the Jones family, more so than Betty had ever been. As quick as she'd looked away she glanced back at Jughead, smiling softly. "I just wanted to say that I'm happy for you. You two look really happy together."

Jughead smiled and nodded his head, pulling Betty into a brief hug once she'd spoken. "Thank you, Betts." He nodded, the use of the nickname making her heart ache more than it was before. "And we are. She's very special."

Once he'd pulled away from the hug Betty took a sip of her drink, suddenly fighting the urge to start tearing up. "I'd better go find Veronica. She told me to not let her sleep with Archie tonight, but you know how she gets when she's drunk." Betty forced a chuckle, whilst the one that escaped Jughead was genuine.

"Alright, that's fair enough." Jughead nodded. "But I'll see you around?"

Betty looked at him and forced a smile, nodding her head. "Yeah." She nodded. "I'll see you around, Jug."

[roseyserpents]

Secrets

Discoveries

Summary: You and Sweet Pea went through a rough patch in your relationship that almost tore you apart. As you're fixing your relationship, your secrets start to get in the way. Can your relationship withstand another storm?

Warnings: threats?

Word count: 1438

A/N: I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long! I've been busy with midterms and shit but I should get back into updating now! That's also why the chapters short (I edited and it didn't save and I'm to tired to redo it) :)

You woke up lying on Sweet Peas chest, his arm wrapped around your waist keeping you in place. His chest gently rose and fell, moving your head up and down with each of his soft breaths. A gentle smile crossed your face as you moved your thumb back and forth, your hand on his chest. Sunlight seeps through the cracks in the blinds, basking the peaceful morning in a warm yellow glow.

"Morning." Sweet Pea says, voice deep and scratchy from sleep. You prop yourself up on your elbow, placing a chaste kiss to his cheek pulling away with a small smile. "You missed." You roll your eyes as he turns on his side, his head still in the pillow.

"Can we just stay here all day?" You ask, mindlessly playing with the fingers on one of his hands.

"I would say yes, but I have to go somewhere with Jughead and Fangs at one." Sweet Pea sighs.

"Nooo." You oppose, wrapping your arms around him. "Mine."

"I'll be back around seven." He assures you, his hand cradling the back of your head. "It's not that long."

"Six hours!" You exclaim, leaning back so you can look at him. "That's a fourth of the day!"

"You're not coming with us." He says softly but sternly saying there was no bargaining on this.

"Why not?" You whine, sounding more like his child than his girlfriend.

"It's dangerous and I don't want you getting hurt." He answers. "It's a boys trip."

"So you think us girls and Kevin aren't tough?" You ask, quirking a brow prompting him to let out an exasperated sigh.

"No, but none of us want our girlfriends or boyfriend to get involved with this."

You groan but give up on trying to go with him, finding it cute he wanted to keep you safe and gratefully accepting the momentary peace from a great deal of questions from the events of last night. After lying in bed for another hour you finally get dressed and make food.

-

Around quarter til seven you hear a knock on the door, pausing the TV and drawing your brow together. You didn't understand why Sweet Pea would knock on the door to his own home but you got up to open the door nonetheless, your face falling when you see the person behind it.

"You didn't tell me you were home all by your lonesome today." Matt says, letting himself in.

"Get out Matt," you command sternly, "You will not come in and taint my home, the one place I have left that's fortunately been untouched by you."

"Well unfortunately for you, I have the upper-hand in this situation." He says, picking up a framed picture of you and Sweet Pea and rolls his eyes.

"Honestly he's made you go soft. You never did anything like this in Bidview." He scoffs, referring to you and Sweet Pea sitting on a couch with your legs over his and your arms wrapped around him, your chin on his shoulder and your noses brushed against each other in an Eskimo kiss. You both have wide smiles but they're at each other instead of the camera as if it simply doesn't exist.

"No, he's made me me again. You have no clue who I am." You defend.

"Oh Y/n/n, you don't really believe you can escape from who you were with me; from what you did. Killing someone isn't something you can just forget." He smirks, leaning against the wall next to the still open door.

"Matt I swear to you, if you lay a single one of your disgusting hands on Sweet Pea or keep meddling in our relationship, I chase you out of town. I will tell everyone who - what you are. And that's a promise." You hiss, slowly stepping closer until you stand in front of him with your finger jabbed in his chest.

"I think you forgot my only real goal in being here. All of the other stuff I'm doing on the side like our dance we shared yesterday is simply just for fun. But there's something I can promise you, if you keep this up, not only will you be back with the Ghoulies and the Serpents gone, you and Sweet Pea won't exist and you'll be crawling back to me. So if I were you, it choose your next actions very. Wisely." His voice and expression had gradually hardened and gotten darker as his mini speech continued until he looked exactly how he did when he was with you. For the first time since this all started, you felt genuine fear of what you had gotten yourself in to and for everything you'd gotten for yourself. You hated yourself for dragging Sweet Pea into this, for risking the entirety of the Serpents, for getting involved with Matt, for getting into this mess in the first place. You'd rebuilt yourself since Bidview and the Ghoulies but now the tar that seemed to fill the two memories was trying to seep into the sunny bright new life, slowly infecting the light.

"Y/n?" Toni says from the doorway.

Toni looks between you and Matt in disbelief and something between disappointment and something else.

"Sam. Out. Now." You say with no way for him to deny it. He walks out but now without flashing Toni a grin before trotting down the steps and back to what ever depth of hell he came from.

"So are you going to explain that to me, or am I going to have to ask Sweet Pea?" She asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Toni it's, it's not that easy." You sigh, running your fingers through your hair and closing the door before sitting down on the couch.

"You killed somebody? You were a Ghoulie?" She continues to question, standing in front of you after crossing the room.

"Everything you heard is from my life before I moved to Riverdale and left it all behind. I don't want anything to do with what I did. You heard, I'm a lot different than that me." You give an exasperated answer. "Please, let's just leave this for tomorrow."

She presses her lips into a line, as if considering your proposal before agreeing. "I expect answers, though." You nod and let her out before collapsing on to the couch with a single, silent tear tracking down your cheek. You tried so hard to prevent this. To prevent everything from your before to come crashing into your now.

The front door opens yet again but this time the heavy footsteps are welcome. Sweet Pea shuts the door and throws off his Serpents jacket where it falls in a heap of leather on the counter.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" He asks after seeing your cracking state. You don't answer as you feel yourself break down, standing up and wrapping your arms tightly around him you let out a sob into his shirt leaving a wet spot of your tears. "Hey hey hey, I got you, you're okay." He tries to comfort you, his strong arms holding you against him. He places a lingering kiss to your hair before resting his chin on your head. You clung to him like your life depended on it, like he was the only thing anchoring you to this life. Sweet Pea lead you to the bedroom and you both sat down with you still clinging to him.

"Y/n, what happened? Did someone hurt you?" He asks, the last part coming out sterner as if he was already enraged at the thought of it.

"I'm sorry." You sniff, your face still buried in his chest. "I love you, so much Sweet Pea."

"I love you too." He replies, chosing to leave the answers to his questions for another time seeing as you didn't seem to be in the right state to give them. He was worried about you. Ever since Sam had started school and he was in your life again, you had gone downhill fast. Everything about you had changed and your overall positive mood had been turned into one of seriousness. Your jokes and clinginess that was annoyingly cute had disappeared and been replaced with worry and you acting like you were always looking over your shoulder. He didn't know exactly what the situation between you and Sam was, but he knew he was going to get to the bottom of it and find some way to get you out of whatever it was and keep you safe. But in doing so, he didn't know just how much trouble he would get himself in.

Taglist: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @stilinski-sister @oopsiedoopsie23 @yall-wildin-like-siriusly

[cheryl-in-a-barrel]

Drive safely (choni one shot)

Based on this prompt list, using the prompt, “Drive safely.” 

Sweet Pea places a hand down on top Toni’s rapidly bouncing leg from where he sits beside the shaking girl. His eyes hadn’t even been open, they still aren’t. He’s leaned back in the cheap hospital waiting room chair, the back of his head pressed against the wall behind him, and his gigantic legs stretched out on the floor in front of him.

Toni is in a much different position. She’s in an identical chair, however, her body is scrunched forward, legs close to her body as she bounces them in anxiety. Her lip is bleeding from how much she’s been chewing on it the past hour, and her face is much paler than her normal colouring.

As soon as Sweet Pea’s hand makes contact with her thigh, her own shaky, much smaller hand clings to it. Threading her fingers in-between his, and squeezing tight as if she’s terrified of what will happen if she lets go.

Sweet Pea says nothing, does nothing, nothing but squeeze his friend’s hand back just as tight. There was nothing left for him to do, and he knows this. He’s here to support Toni, pushing down his own fears and anxiety that’s bubbling in his chest, in order to be a strong front for the other girl to lean on.

Fangs comes shuffling in, taking a stand next to the pair, a plastic cup of water in his hand. “Here, Toni, you should drink something,” he speaks softly, leaning down to the distressed girl.

Sweet Pea opens his eyes, looking between his two friends with a solemn expression. When it doesn’t look like Toni is making any attempts to accept the water, Sweet Pea just slowly shakes his head to Fangs.

He sighs, and moves to take the seat on the other side of the shaking girl, bringing the cup up to his own lips instead.

“She’s going to be okay,” Sweet Pea says, and the words solicit Toni to meet his eyes for the first time since they got there.

“You can’t know that for sure,” is her response.

Toni’s face is a complete mess of ruined makeup and tears as she stares up at Sweet Pea with an almost desperate plea in her eyes. As if she’s begging him to be able to tell her that he does know for sure, begging him to have all the answers she needs. But he doesn’t. Toni’s right, Sweet Pea can’t know for sure. He knows Cheryl Blossom is one badass chick, but he doesn’t know if that’s enough to save her life.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers instead, a tear of his own escaping down his cheek, as he watches his best friend break apart.

“She’s strong as hell,” Fangs comments, and Toni turns around to face him. “We don’t know if she’s going to be okay, but if I had to bet on anyone making it through this, it’d be her every time.”

Toni starts crying even harder at the words, moving forward and wrapping her arms around Fangs for a hug, soaking his plaid shirt with her tears in the process. He doesn’t mind though, he simply holds his friend close, trying not to let his heart break at the tragic sobs that wreck Toni’s body.

Cheryl has been in surgery for an hour now, and with each minute that passes, Toni becomes more and more consumed by the impulsive, dark thoughts in her brain telling her the girl she loves is dead.

Yes, the girl she loves. She hasn’t even gotten the chance to tell Cheryl that yet, and now she might never get to.

Sweet Pea had told her that Cheryl already knows, even if she hasn’t heard the actual words yet. Toni finds ways to say I love you without actually having to say it. It’s silly, because she knows she should just come out and tell the truth, she knows Cheryl feels the same way. But something always stops her from choking the confession out, so she finds other ways to ensure her girlfriend knows just how much she loves her.

Tonight, before absolute hell broke loose, Toni had done just that.

“My shifts over,” Toni speaks into the phone as soon as Cheryl’s voice came through the speaker with a cheerful greeting.

She holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder, while she digs around her bag for the key to the trailer her and Sweet Pea share.

“About time,” Cheryl teases.

Toni finds the key and shoves it into the lock, jiggling it for good measure, before responding, “You were welcome to come hang out at the Wyrm, you know?”

“As much as I love your little greaser bar, TT, I think I’ve had one too many nights sat next to drunken men with all too curious eyes, for the week”

The serpent girl smirks as she enters her trailer and throws her bag down on the couch. “Just give me the names,” she says, “and I’ll destroy them all for looking at you.”

Cheryl snorts, “How chivalrous.”

“I’ll always be your knight in shining leather,” Toni walks into the kitchen, grabbing an apple from a bowl sitting on the counter. She hadn’t eaten since before her shift, and knew Sweet Pea wouldn’t mind some missing fruit.

“You better,” Cheryl hums, and then Toni hears some sort of shuffling on the other side, “Can I come over now?” the redheaded girl asks.

“You sure you don’t want to me to come to you?” Toni questions, “It’s kind of a mess around here,” she takes a glance around the dishevelled trailer with a small grimace.

“I don’t mind,” Cheryl promises, “Besides, If I’m being honest, I’m sick of being at Thistlehouse right now, only took 17 years, but this stupid house is finally starting to give me the creeps.”

Toni can sense the deeper emotion hidden behind Cheryl’s causal wording. A frequent tactic implemented by the redhead. She still wasn’t the best at communicating her feelings, but she had improved tremendously since Toni met her.

The serpent didn’t want to divulge into the reasoning for her girlfriend’s sudden apprehension for the house she’s previously defended to Toni on numerous occasions, over the phone. Instead, she made sure to take note of the information, and decided she could try to talk to her about it later, once they were together.

In the meantime, she just chuckles and replies, “That’s because you practically live in a haunted house attraction, Cher.”

“Hey, it once held a certain charm, believe it or not.”

“I’m sure it did,” Toni rolls her eyes, knowing the other girl can’t see her.

“So,” Cheryl clears her throat, “I can come over?”

“Of course,” Toni tells her. “Sweet Pea was still at the Wyrm when I left so we should have some time alone together.”

“Perfect,” Toni can hear her smile over the phone, “I have to admit that giant is actually quite entertaining, but he’s also much too loud.”

Toni laughs. “I’ll agree as long as you promise to never tell him I did.”

“Your secret is safe with me, TT,” the sound of a door opening and closing is then heard.

“You leaving already?” Toni asks.

Cheryl takes a second to respond, “I may have been ready and waiting for the past hour.”

Toni’s more endeared by the response than she’d ever admit out loud. She doesn’t know how she got so lucky with Cheryl Blossom. The girl is too good to be true sometimes.

“Someone’s eager,” she grins.

“Don’t tease,” Cheryl scolds, and Toni swears she can see the little pout on her girlfriend’s lips even though she’s miles away from her.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she speaks, “Get over here, and I’ll make it up to you.”

Cheryl seems to like the sound of that. “Already in my car.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon,” Toni wants to say something else. The confession sitting on her tongue, begging her to make sure Cheryl knows. But she can’t. The first time she tells Cheryl she loves her isn’t going to be over the phone.

“Cher?” Toni asks quietly before they hang up.

“Yes, TT?”

“Drive safely,” she says in place of I love you.

“Always.”

Cheryl did drive safely. Turns out, some drunk asshole driving down the opposite lane from her, did not.

Toni gets a call a mere 25 minutes after she gets off the phone with Cheryl. She’s expecting it to be her again, perhaps with a reason for her hold up considering it only takes her 15 minutes to get to Sunnyside Trailer park.

She definitely gets her reason, but it wasn’t Cheryl on the other line.

After Toni gets the call, she’s in a state of shock.

She calls Sweet Pea, but honestly she can’t even remembering dialling his number. All she knows is one minute she’s being told her girlfriend’s in critical condition, the next minute she’s in the back of Sweet Pea’s truck, and now, she’s here in the Riverdale hospital waiting room.

It hurts. Everything hurts. Her lungs feel like they’re on fire, every time she tries to breathe, knowing that Cheryl may have taken her last breaths tonight.

She can’t stop thinking about Cheryl dying. Toni didn’t even know that was her biggest fear until tonight. If someone asked her what she was most afraid of a couple days ago, maybe she’d say something about following in her parents footsteps and ending up in jail, or maybe being stuck working a lousy bartending job in this small town for the rest of her life, or hell, she’s always been kind of uneasy around clowns. She thought she knew her biggest fears, but she’s living her worst nightmare right now, and nothing could ever come close to this amount of pain.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t heard anything about your friends condition,” a sympathetic sounding nurse says to Sweet Pea who has found his way to the reception desk for what might be the fourth time that night.

“Okay,” he nods, wringing his hands under the counter to hide his impending nervousness.

Fangs shoots him a look from over Toni’s shoulder, and he shakes his head. No news.

Sweet Pea looks around the empty waiting room save for him and his two friends, and wonder if they should be calling anyone else.

He hadn’t even told Jughead where they were going when he and Fangs rushed out of the Wyrm after receiving Toni’s call. Cheryl’s other friends, Betty, Veronica, Josie, even Archie, they all had no idea anything had even happened to her. Sweet Pea didn’t know if calling a good percentage of Riverdale’s youth over here was the best idea right now though. It’s not like they knew anything yet anyway, and Toni doesn’t seem to be in the appropriate state of mind to handle more people. They’d all be fawning over her at a time like this, bless Veronica and Betty’s hearts, but they were extremely prone to prying, and Toni didn’t need that. Sweet Pea decided he’d call them the minute the they heard anything, and for now, the three serpents could just wait in silence.

It took half an hour longer.

With Toni growing progressively worse in that time, as she seemed to equate the passing minutes to the likeliness of Cheryl’s death.

It was during a particularly rough breakdown in Sweet Pea’s arms this time, when a doctor, looking a little worse for wear himself, came through the swinging doors.

“You three here for Cheryl Blossom?” he questions, easily spotting them out in the sparse room.

They all but sprint towards him. Toni is immediately front and centre, despite the fact that she’s beyond a mess at this point.

“Is she alive?” she frantically asks, her heartbeat jumping out of her chest. The blood is so loud in her ears, she’s afraid she won’t even hear the doctor’s response.

“She’s stable,” he confirms.

Toni feels air enter her lungs without the sting of fire for the first time since she got the call.

“Will she be okay?” Fangs questions quietly, rubbing his hand along Toni’s back in comfort.

“Ms. Blossom will recover. She lost a lot of blood, the drivers side door came in and crushed her left side, leaving a pretty bad wound. She also broke her arm on that side, and she broke multiple ribs as well. She suffered a small concussion, but it doesn’t appear too serious or to have any long lasting effects, all in all, Cheryl’s a very lucky girl right now.” he finishes, a small but tired smile on his face.

Toni doesn’t know how to feel. She’s relieved that Cheryl’s going to be okay, but hearing everything she went through still breaks her heart. She didn’t deserve this. Cheryl’s been hurt over and over again her entire life, and she didn’t fucking deserve this. It wasn’t fair.

“Can we see her?” Toni asks with a small crack in her voice, there are still a few tears rolling down her cheeks, but she’s managed to get her crying somewhat under control.

The doctor shares a look between the hopeful and worried teenagers in front of him. “You can,” he tells her, “But just one at a time, okay? You don’t want to overwhelm her right now. She may be a little dazed from the medication as well as her concussion.”

She’s given a room number, and that’s all it takes before she’s rushing off to Cheryl’s room. Sweet Pea and Fangs promise to wait outside, and Sweet Pea mentions he’s going to make a couple of calls.

Toni only partly processes what they say, if she’s being honest. She’s way to focused on getting to Cheryl to concentrate on a single other thing.

Once she’s standing in front of Cheryl’s door, she takes a deep breath before turning the handle.

Oh god. If she thought her heart was broken before.

Toni has to cover her mouth with her hand as she feels herself begin to sob again. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, but seeing Cheryl so broken and weak, lying in a hospital bed that her skinny frame sinks right into, was more than she was prepared for.

“Cher…” she whispers brokenly.

The redheaded girl has her eyes closed. Toni moves closer, coming to stand directly beside her, choosing her right side instead of her significantly more battered left. With a shaky sigh, Toni grasps her hand, holding it tight and letting her thumb run over the smooth skin.

“I’ve got you,” she says, kissing Cheryl’s palm before gently bringing it back down to the bed.

“I’m so sorry this happened, but I’ve got you now, and I’m not going to let something like this happen to you ever again,” she promises through her tears.

She falls to her knees, pressing her forehead down on their conjoined hands as she cries. Toni’s sure she’s cried enough for the whole year in this one night. She’s beginning to get a headache, and her throat is awfully dry, but none of that matters to her.

“T—Toni?” A weak voice pipes up, and Toni quickly lifts her head just as Cheryl’s eyes flutter open.

“Hey, you,” she replies with a watery smile.

Toni stands and puts her other hand on Cheryl’s cheek. “You really scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Cheryl dreamily sighs, blinking her eyes a few times.

“How are you feeling?” Toni asks.

“Really good,” Cheryl smiles, “Everything’s all tingly.”

Toni can’t help but chuckle softly. “Yeah, they’ve got you on the good stuff all right.”

Cheryl doesn’t reply for a moment, her smile turning to a frown once she takes a better look at Toni’s face.

“Why are you so sad?” she wonders aloud, attempting to sit up only to have Toni quickly push her back down.

��Take it easy, Cher,” Toni frets, holding the girl at her shoulders now so she wouldn’t get up. “Baby, you were in a car accident, you’re at the hospital right now,” she explains, as Cheryl’s clearly too out of it to hold much awareness of her surroundings.

“Oh,” she pouts. “I was going to offer to beat up whoever made you so sad, but I guess that would mean I’d have to beat myself up.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Toni pointedly tells her, “You, my princess, are too high to even remember your own name,”

Cheryl just pouts some more, and Toni leans down to kiss the girl’s temple. “Again,” Cheryl requests with innocent doe eyes once Toni pulls away.

Toni laughs, but happily complies. Coming back down to kiss Cheryl’s forehead, both her cheeks, her nose, and finally her lips.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Toni breathes. “Thinking I lost you, was the scariest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“I’m here,” Cheryl whispers.

She then starts shuffling over a little, making more room on the side closest to Toni.

“Cher, be careful!” Toni reaches out immediately, helping the girl gently move over and putting a stop to her fast paced movements.

“Cuddle with me,” Cheryl states, more so than asks, looking up at Toni expectantly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Toni says, her bottom lip between her teeth worriedly.

“You won’t,” Cheryl tell her, “not unless you tell me you don’t want to cuddle with me.”

Toni shakes her head at the girl’s antics. “Fine, but the minute you look like you’re in pain I’m getting up.”

“Deal.”

Toni slides into the bed incredibly slowly, dreadfully careful not to discomfort Cheryl in any way.

“How’s this?” Toni asks once she’s laying down.

Cheryl moves to rest her head on Toni’s chest, moving her body, and specifically her left side, as little as possible.

“Better,” Cheryl breathes.

Toni kisses the top of her head.

They lay silently for a few minutes, the only sound is the consistent beep of a heart rate monitor, and the gentle rise and fall of both their chests.

Toni breaks the silence with a smile, a thought popping into her head as she stares at the cast on Cheryl’s arm. “Sweet Pea’s going to write something dumb on your cast.”

“No, I forbid him,” Cheryl nuzzles a little deeper into Toni.

“Then Fangs will,” Toni suggests.

“I forbid them both, and you’ll be next if you even think about it,” she threatens.

“I would never, serpent’s honour,” Toni promises, and Cheryl agrees with a little hum, too out of it to remember that serpent’s honour isn’t a real thing.

The room goes quiet again. Toni can tell Cheryl is getting sleepy in her arms, and she’s quite exhausted herself after the night she’d had.

As tired as both girls are, and as high as Cheryl may be, Toni knows she can’t let another minute go by without telling Cheryl something she should have told her a long time ago.

Because the only thing she could possibly ever fear more than losing Cheryl, was losing her before she told her she loves her.

That ends now.

“Hey, Cher, I have to tell you something.”

Cheryl lightly grips one of Toni’s hands that had been resting near her stomach. She fidgets with a couple of the serpent girl’s fingers before quietly asking, “What is it?”

“I love you,” she lets the words she’s been dying to say finally slip out her mouth. Toni doesn’t even know if Cheryl will remember this, but it doesn’t matter, because starting now, Toni’s going to make sure she tells Cheryl she loves her every single day, so she won’t ever forget.

She’s not even expecting a response, figuring Cheryl may want to be in a clearer mindset before addressing Toni’s confession. She didn’t need a response now, she just needed Cheryl to know.

That doesn’t mean she’s not a little excited when the redheaded girl does in fact repeat the words back to her.

Cheryl threads her fingers through Toni’s before saying, with the most sincerity she’s had since Toni walked into this room, “I love you too.”

Toni feels complete in that moment.

Yes, her girl has been badly broken once again, and Toni’s heart still aches when she thinks about all the pain Cheryl is going to be in. But she’ll be there to take care of her, every single step of the way. Most importantly she’ll be there to love her. Something Cheryl hasn’t had a whole lot of in her relatively short life, but Toni’s determined to change that.

The girl she loves, loves her back, and it’s an exhilarating feeling.

In the end, Sweet Pea does write something on Cheryl’s cast. He makes some dumb joke in sharpie marker, You should see the other guy.

Cheryl slaps him over the head with her good arm when she sees it. He only laughs before running off in the other direction, before she gets the chance to retaliate any further.

Toni writes something too. It has Sweet Pea and Fangs making fake gagging noises after reading it, and has Cheryl beaming, with adoration practically oozing from her eyes when they skim over the words.

She signs, in small, neat lettering, I love you - TT.

[makenna145]

Welcome to Riverdale (Fangs x Ellie x Sweet Pea)

Chapter 4: Confessions

Silence filled the room. No body knew what to think.

“There has to be some kind of explanation behind it…” Jughead was the first to speak. He refused to believe that his sister was a murderer. He couldn’t imagine her killing someone in cold blood.

“Like what Jones? It clearly says what she did” Sweet Pea stated. He himself wanted an explanation from her, but from experience, he knew that anyone could surprise him. Sweet Pea had wished for it to be something good. But again, he was disappointed.

“All I’m saying is that she probably had good reason. Like self-defense, maybe? She told me about her mom, and she wasn’t a good parental figure in the slightest bit.” Jughead, knowing what it was like to have an alcoholic parent understood what she went through. “Now I’m not trying to say that what she did was okay, but we at least owe it to her to give us an explanation before we go assuming anything.” The group nodded. They knew that they needed to talk to Ellie about what they found and have her tell them what really happened.” If you all are okay with it, I was going to ask her at lunch. That’s the only part of the day that I see her. So, if you want to come you are more than welcome to. We will be in here right after the bell rings.” With that, Jughead grabbed his things and left the room, leaving the others to discuss what they were going to do.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of fourth period, Jughead headed to the Blue and Gold, texting Ellie on the way. He knew that she would come so there was no reason to come up with an excuse to try and get her there. Opening the door, he was met by the faces of Fangs and Toni. Sweet Pea was nowhere to be found. Pea had decided that he didn’t want to be there for the confession because he knew that Fangs would tell him later, so instead he decided to miss the rest of the day and just go home.

Jughead walked over to his desk and sat down his things, he expected this to be a long conversation so there was no need to hold all of it. Then, he made his way over to the rest of the group and took a seat, waiting for Ellie to walk through the door.

Walking to the cafeteria, Ellie felt her phone buzz in her pocket. It was a text from Jughead asking her to meet him in the Blue and Gold. Putting her phone back away, she turned around, now going in the opposite direction of where she was going at first. She didn’t think anything of the request from her brother because he often needed her help with reviewing what he wrote. That’s what she thought she was going there for. However, when she opened the door and saw Toni and Fangs there too, she knew something was up.

She walked in slowly, very confused as to why there was a crowd of people. “Hey guys…what’s going on?” She searched the faces of all three teens, trying to read them, but coming up with nothing. Fangs wouldn’t even look at her, he sat in the chair, staring out the window; Jughead was looking at the floor with his arms crossed, in deep thought; and Toni stared at her blankly, it looked like she had never even met Ellie before. Jughead inhaled deeply, handing her the article they had found. He printed one out before lunch because he thought it would be easier to deliver what they had found versus trying to explain it to her.

Ellies breath hitched as she read the header.

Teen kills mom, all charges dropped.

She stared at the article, not even reading it as memories of the night flooded back to her. It was the worst night of her life. However, during her time in Riverdale she was able to forget about what had happened, the memories only surfacing when triggered.

Her hand began to shake. She wanted to explain why she did it but she was too angry. Angry that Fangs didn’t listen to her. Angry that they all went behind her back. Angry at herself for not telling them sooner. She knew that they would find out somehow, but she never thought it would be this soon.

“Ellie…” Fangs was trying to get her to come back to reality. He wanted the explanation more than anyone in that room. He jolted when Ellie’s head snapped in his direction, anger in her eyes.

“Why Fangs?! Why wouldn’t you just drop it?! Why did you go behind my back when I would have told you myself if you had only given me time?!” Ellie was pissed. Even she had never seen herself this mad. Fangs’ eyes widened.

“I…I…” He began.

“You know what, screw all of you.” Ellie cut him off. She ripped the article in two, throwing it on the floor before storming out of the room. She ran down the hallway and out the doors, stopping for a second on the steps, frantically looking around the lot, then running in the direction of the trailer park.

Ellie didn’t stop until she reached the steps of her trailer. She knew that no one would be home, so it was safe to go inside without getting caught by FP. She swung the door open then slammed it shut behind her. At this point she was crying. She ran her hands through her hair, tugging at it a little as she paced up and down the trailer. She felt so betrayed and so stupid at the same time. Why didn’t I just tell them? But why did they have to go behind my back? If only they gave me more time…

She stopped pacing only to throw everything off the coffee table, breaking almost everything she could even though she knew she would have to pay to fix it later. She was screaming curse words as she continued to hit and break furniture, completely losing it.

Sweet Pea was in his trailer when he began to hear lines of profanity echoing throughout the park. It was a small area so he could hear everything clearly. Listening closer, he began to recognize the voice it was coming from. He stepped outside to see if he could hear better. Only then were his suspicions validated. Ellie. Everything began to register in his head. He knew that she must have figured out about Fogarty’s investigation into her less than perfect past and about how her brother and best friend were in on it.

Hearing things breaking along with the lines of profanity coming from her triggered something in him that caused him to run to the Jones’ trailer. He knew he needed to calm her down before they both got caught. While in route to the trailer, he noticed that the sounds had stopped. Slowing to a walk, he listened closer. Nothing. He knew that he could go back to his place now but something inside him drove him to helping her.

Making his way up the steps, he knocked on the door, receiving no answer. Turning the doorknob, he opened it slowly. The mess she had caused took him by surprise. As he made his way inside, he noticed more and more objects that were broken and out of place. While surveying the damage, he looked in the direction of their living room and noticed Ellie sitting in the floor staring straight into the wall. His heart ached a little. He didn’t understand why, but he felt bad for her.

Sighing, he walked over to Ellie. “Jones.” He said annoyed. She didn’t reply. Rolling his eyes, he repeated it once more. “Jones.” Again, no reply. He knelt next to her. “Jones…” He repeated on last time. Still receiving no reply, he turned her head towards him. Her cheeks were stained with tears. Eyes red and puffy but blank. His heart stung at the sight.

“Sweet Pea?” She said, her voice soft.

“Yea, its me” He smiled, hoping that she would get up so that he could go back home and not have to worry about her anymore.

“Wha…What are you doing here? I thought you hated me.” She turned back to face the wall.

“I do Jones, but you were making a lot of noise. You were going to get us both caught. Now, get up, clean this mess, and go to bed. You look like shit.” He stood and made his way to the door. He was about to leave when the sound of her voice stopped him.

“Can you stay? I don’t want to be alone and you are the only one who doesn’t look at me like a murderer.” Her eyes pleading for him to stay. He remained in the doorway, cursing at himself for what he was about to do.

“Yeah, I can, but we have to clean this mess up first.” She nodded.

He honestly couldn’t believe that he was about to help someone he hated. However, as time passed, he wondered if he even hated her at all. Yeah, they weren’t best friends. Yeah, they argued. Yeah, they weren’t particularly fond of each other, but was there really hatred between them?

It took twice as long to clean up her mess than it did making it. Putting the vacuum in the closet, Sweet Pea let out a sigh of relief. They were finally done. He looked over to the couch where Ellie sat. He could tell that she was still upset, but she was already looking way better than when he arrived that afternoon. He watched as she stood and walked to her bedroom. Jughead let her have it when she moved in so that she could have a little more privacy.

“Thank you for helping Pea. I appreciate it.” Her smile was soft. She was completely drained from all the crying and that was all she could offer him. She paused before she closed the door. “I know you don’t want to because I promise you I don’t either, but I really don’t want to be alone when FP and Jug get home…” Sweet Pea knew where this was going and he was not going into that bedroom and lay in the same bed as her. She got a lot more from him already than anyone else ever had, why was that not enough for her. “Look, if they come home and see you with me, they won’t bother me, but if you’re not here, then Jug will come in here and just bother me about the whole “mom-thing” again. Do you really want all of that work we just accomplished mean nothing?” She was hopeful.

Sweet Pea contemplated the thought. While he really didn’t want to do it, that same ache in his heart pulled him to her bedroom. He couldn’t pinpoint where this feeling was coming from, but he hated it. How was she making him feel this way? He followed Ellie into her room and looked around. The walls were covered in band posters and postcards from places he didn’t even know existed. Her bed was a baby blue color which happened to be one of his favorite colors, just like Ellie’s. His glance made its way back to her as she was already in her pajamas and crawling into the bed. He sighed once more before taking off his jacket laying it on the chair that sat next to her door, then taking off his boots. He laid them at the foot of the same chair and then crawled in with her. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his chest. A since of safety washed over her as she cuddled into him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, absorbing the warmth as they both drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the days activities.

TAG LIST:

@chipster-21

[whisperilllistentohearit]

Knowing Pt. II

Hi!

This is sort of a follow up to my last piece. Again, I am no writer, sometimes I just have things in my head I wanna write out. This was inspired by the promo shot of Betty and Jughead kissing with his hat in his hand, and by the ending of last episode. Mild spoilers ahead! 

Her entire body froze the moment her gaze flittered across the old photograph. Her own smile, the one she had spent countless shameful hours flashing into her mirror, critiquing the shape, how much her teeth showed, the way her cheeks bunch around her eyes, was turned up to her from a frozen snapshot in time. Confusion prickled at her mind as she lifted the photograph and flipped it over, looking for an explanation or a notation, like the kind she inscribed on the back of her own photographs in pristine hand writing before tucking them into the frame of her mirror, but found only a blank back.

It was taken in a class room that didn’t stick out in her memory in any way, her own figure sitting at a desk, slightly turned away and erupting in laughter. She knew instantly that it was taken without her knowledge, or she would not have let her smile grow so broad, her gums showing. Judging from her clothing in the image and the roundness of her face she could guess it was taken a year, or perhaps two, prior.

She lifted her gaze to her beanie-clad partner, both of them standing out in the unfamiliar space. His suspenders were stretched over his rounded shoulders and his face was turned away as he crouched over a wide desk, pulling drawers open, shuffling through art supplies and drawings, his long fingers grazing over pens, markers, papers, unsure of what they were looking for. Betty spoke after only a moment of hesitation.

“It’s me.” She declared almost too loudly in the quiet room.

Jughead’s blue eyes flicked to her immediately, his brow already furrowed from his hasty investigation through Dilton’s personal belongings. Betty watched his gaze drift to the photo she was holding up towards him, her own confusion mirrored in his expression until is cleared away to recognition, or understanding? Before she could name is properly his face shifted to smug, the small smirk that played across his mouth confused her further. And irritated her.

Which must have reflected on her face as her mouth snapped open to demand an explanation. Jughead raised his hands up, his palms out in mercy right before she began full steam, “Why is this here!? Tucked away in a book, even! Was he trying to involve me in these rituals – Why are you smiling??”

“Ah – I’m not.” Jughead began, his hand reaching to his beanie as if to tug it, but his stayed suspended near his eyeline “You see, he is– was - “ he grimaced at his own use of present tense, licking his lips to restart his statement,

“He sort of… Had a thing for you.” His hand fell to the back of his neck, the unique composition of shame coming from breaking a confidence filtering across his face. Which she recognized easily from years of her countless demands of which girl Archie was interested in, wanting to know what Ethel had passed to Jughead in a note, demanding there be no secrets between the boys and herself.

“What..? Did he say that to you?”

Jughead shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest and lifting his shoulders in a small shrug, his gaze landing on her face again, something guarded in his eyes.

“No, but he didn’t need to.”

“Since.. When?” Her mind filled suddenly with Dilton, his nervous smile, his glasses constantly partially fogged. Insisting she read his favorite fantasy novel, offering to help her with her biology homework. Handing her a small, sloppily wrapped Christmas during secret Santa. The loss of this person she didn’t make enough effort to know, the reality that he was gone consumed her, filling her lungs with a painful ice grip. The room seemed to tilt under her feet, too warm and too muggy, this room was suddenly unbearable – which she had never stepped foot in until 10 minutes prior – filled with his things, his memories, his –what right does she have- oh God.

‘Betts”, her heart throbbed again as the familiar sensation of Jughead’s palm resting against her cheek cut through the panic. Her hand lifted to his chest, her palm flat against the spot where his heart resided. She counted the rhythm, strong and sure under her scarred skin. She allowed herself several moments of counting, the feel of his heartbeat one of her favorite sensations, before she lifted her gaze to his to repeat, “Since when?”

The question was met with his soft, concerned look she was so familiar with, that she somehow both loved and hated, that made her feel cherished and hatefully fragile simultaneously. His mouth formed a crooked line of indecision momentarily before he shrugged again, his chest rising with movement under her palm.

“Since…I don’t know. Since you wore that yellow dress…The one that was sort of crinkly material and had the bow in the back? Freshman year.”

She furrowed her brow, seeking the memory in her mind.

“You looked like lemon meringue.” He added softly, not quite teasing. Food he always took seriously.

A second wave of demanding questions was forming in her throat but stilled to silence when he continued, “Since our seventh grade science fair? When you did your presentation on those slugs, but you couldn’t complete your experiment because you became too attached to them. You spent the entire presentation explaining their personalities and why you named them after leaders of the women’s suffrage movement.”

A smile erupted on her face at the memory, recalling how she made Archie and Jughead help her return each beautiful slug back to their natural habitat, both boys gagging and complaining the whole time.

Had Dilton been in that class with them?

Her smile fell.

“Since you yelled at Reggie and called him ugly when he made Ethel cry in fifth grade?”

Betty blinked.

“You walked her home and baked her cookies the next day. They were peanut butter with a Hershey kiss stuck in the middle.”

Unexpectedly, Jughead flushed furiously, and took a step back from her. His arms wrapped across his chest, his weight shifting to lean against Dilton’s desk as he shifted his gaze away from her. She could see the flush on the tips of his ears.

Later, when writing in her journal, Betty wouldn’t be able to describe this moment to fully explain how it felt when this warmth, prickling really, started at her scalp, filled her face with heat, sent her heart plummeting into her stomach and her knees actually weaken and begin to shake. It was like the sun rising, like waking up anxiety free, like getting glasses and seeing a flower up close, this whole new beautiful world opening up to her.

It wasn’t until this very moment did she realize that she had this amazing, big hearted, mess of a boy by her side, loving her this entire time. He had loved her always.

(She knew, very clearly remembered now, that Dilton was always around on the weekends and summers, but he had undoubtedly spent fourth through eighth grade at a military school that he had begged his parents to go to. He returned to class with them after an incident in which he had pulled a practical joke on another student with itching powder who ended up having a severe allergic reaction that sent them to the hospital.)

Having also realized his slip Jughead huffed a little annoyed breath as a smile blossomed across her face, down to her toes, to the tips of her fingers, “Juggie…” she began, closing the space between them tentatively.

He pushed at his hat nervously, tugging on his hair in a familiar, anxious habit.

These moments of self-doubt and hesitation were much fewer and farther between at this stage in their relationship. The confidence that he had of her love for him typically radiated from his skin. He would drum it out from his long fingers to the length of her torso as they lay next to each other, exhausted and spent from passion. He would hold the truth of her undeniable love tucked away in the corner of his lips, always ready to pull into a smile.

This moment of vulnerability and fear felt like the last of its kind, breaking away this last hidden piece of his heart. He pulled his hat off in a fist, running his other hand through his hair a few times, readying himself to speak. She gave him this moment, this last vestige of the wall he kept around his heart that he had torn down for her. To love her and be loved by her.

Both arms were crossed across his chest in a protective pose, his hat fisted into the crook of one his elbows. His mouth was set in a stern line, but his were so, so soft when they met hers, “You are very easy to love.”

She closed the distance between them fully, pressing her body against the length of his, pushing her hips into his, threading her fingers through his hair, cupping his jaw, tilting his beautiful, stubborn face up to her own to kiss him sternly.

She held him firm and true, not caring they were wasting their snooping time, not caring they were in a strange room. She stood a little taller than him with him sitting and took advantage of the delicious angle, tipping his head back, pressing soft insistent kisses to his lips, his checks, his nose, his jaw. While his body language remained rigid, tucked into himself, his face was soft and peaceful. His eyelashes jumping and resting with each soft kiss she gave to him.

She had never really been that good with words, not the way Jughead was. He was witty, he was thoughtful. Yes, she could investigate, and push herself and write a flaming article with great talking points, but when it came to expressing her own feelings in her own voice she stumbled. She tripped up and repeated herself. She never quite got the words out the way she wanted, they never sounded to her hears the way she was shouting them from her heart.  There were so many things she wanted to tell him that didn’t sound right with her voice.

So, she slipped her useless tongue against his gently, wanting tell him everything this way. To say, thank you for loving me all along. You are easy to love, too.

She knew that she would probably feel this small guilt in her heart forever. Partially hating herself for not knowing of or being able to discuss with Dilton his affection for her, and partially hating herself that she could not truthfully tell Jughead that she always felt the same for him as he did for her. She could pour all of her love and longing and heartache into this kiss and this boy, and he would be there to take it all from her.

Eventually, and all toon soon (remembering where they were and that a grieving family was sure to walk in on them at any moment) Betty pulled away from Jughead slowly, his mouth traveling with her, his lips the last point to lose contact. His eyes opened slowly, blurrily, grief and love mixed together in his achingly beautiful gaze.

Betty had to swallow down the emotion that rushed through her, causing the corner of her eyes to prickle. Her gaze landed on the ground between them to the blank photo back innocently empty to them now.

Jughead reached over to pick up the photo that had fluttered out of her hand. It wasn’t until he was lifting himself back up with the photo in hand facing towards them did she notice the most important detail. Mostly cut off by the framing of the shot, but in the corner, clear as day, and in the direction photo-Betty was turned to,  the source of her carefree laughter, was a hand on a desk. A hand she’d know anywhere, from countless touches and moments being intertwined with her own. The hand that touch her own bloodied palms and covered them with understanding and acceptance.

Betty placed the tip of her index finger on the photo-hand that she adored and declared, “It’s you.”

Jughead jolted in surprise as he whipped his gaze to hers from the photo, her smile warming in response to his wide eyes. He blinked at her for a beat, before his features melted into her favorite half small, his eyes softening and turning her to goo all over again.

Reaching into his pocket he withdrew is wallet, folding the picture to slide it into one of slim pockets before returning it to the worn square in his jeans. His eyes flicked to her before softly wondering, “Think he’ll mind..?”

Betty shook her head softly, her ponytail brushing along the line of her shoulders, and her smile faded with the movement.

As they left the darkened bedroom dusk began filtering through the window, casting long orange shadows across the walls. In time with their padding steps Jughead’s hand slipped warmly into hers, as it often so easily did. Betty turned over her shoulder to gaze back into the room belonging to a boy she did not know well enough and closed her eyes for one quite moment. She said a small little prayer from her heart to Dilton, again, not having the right words...

I’m sorry. Thank you.

-

Any feedback is appreciated! ❤��

[dreams-of-wings]

Out of Your Time (1/?)

A Riverdale X Stranger Things Imagine

Imagine being from Riverdale and somehow ending up in Hawkins 1983.

Warnings: swearing, some violence.

Masterlist

You walk out of school with your friends on either side of you. Betty and Jughead to your right, and Veronica and Archie to your left. Today was a good day, Jughead was able to leave school early to come visit, and Cheryl hadn’t sassed anyone in your group.

You all laughed as Jug and Archie tossed jokes back and fourth, taking jabs at each other. Once you reached the bottom of the steps, the four of your friends paired off - Archie was going to walk Veronica home and Betty was going to go hang out at Jugheads place for a bit. You, on the other hand, had a shift to work at Pop’s Chock'lit Shoppe - a job you had taken after your parents split up when you started highschool. Puddles of water splashed under your feet as you ran to the sidewalk on the other side of the steet - the messanger bag at your side jossling with every hurried step you took.

Once reaching the other side, you let out a sigh and shoved your hands in the pockets of your hoodie, before continuing on your way to the small family diner. It took you about 25 minutes to get there, and once you were there you burst through the front door.

“Evenin’ Pops,” you called as you rushed to the bathroom to change into your uniform. He leaned over the counter to peer around the corner - just in time to see the door to the bathroom close. He simply laughed in response, shaking his head and throwing the rag he had been wiping the counter down with, over his shoulder.

You looked in the mirror, making a few last minute adjustments to the old-timey uniform before leaving the restroom - breaking out a pen and small note pad as you immediately began taking orders from customers.

As the evening went on, people began filtering out of the diner to head home - it was a school night afterall. You began cleaning off tables when you heard the familiar jingling of the door bell ringing, you turned to greet them.

“Hello- Oh,” you stopped mid-greeting, “It’s just you guys,” you said with a smile.

“Just us guys,” Veronica repeated, feigning offense as she raised a hand to cover her heart somewhat dramatically.

“I would think that warrants an even more spectacular greeting!”

Betty laughed before she stepped forward, “We all decided to hang out at Archie’s, and we were wondering if you would be able to join us?” She raised her shoulders and lowered her head as if she was shying away from your response. Her brows were inquisitive, furrowed and slightly raised like the tone of her voice at the end of her question.

“Hmmm…” You crossed your arms and pretended to think it over - like you might actually say no to their request.

“Yeah, of course,” you finally replied after a moment, “My shift is over anyways, but just give me a sec to take out the trash okay?” Betty nodded along with the others before you left them in the middle of the diner to complete your last chore before clocking out.

You sling the garbage bag over the shoulder opposite to the one carrying your satchel, before heading out the back door, and towards the dumpster. Then suddenly, a high pitched chirp catches your attention and you pause where you stand before gently placing the full bag down on the ground as you try to listen for the sound again. ’Clank’, ’ting’, and more chirping

“The hell?” You pull out your cell phone and turn on the flashlight before continuing towards the large dumpster. Placing a hand on the corner, you peer around the edge of the steel garbage bin only to see a large tadpol-looking creature with slimy skin. It quickly turns to look at you and screeches, causing you to yelp in suprise and jerk away from the dumpster - a jagged piece cutting the palm of you hand open.

“Shit!” You hiss in pain, shoving your phone into the pocket of your apron, before pulling your injured hand to you chest and cradling it.

A large shadow looms over you as you slowly continue to back up. The lights in the diner, unbeknownst to you, were flickering and flashing like mad - as were the street lamps. You stop backing up when you hear a gross bone chilling gargling sound, and you turn in time to see a sharp-toothed, fleshy flower bloom. You open your mouth the scream, but the sound never makes it to the air as you just disappear.

Fast forward two weeks, and you’re still missing in Riverdale. ‘Have you seen me’ flyers litter the small town - on light posts, on gas station windows, and the bulletin boards of various schools and supermarkets. For the most part everyone has stopped looking, they all asume you either died or ran away, but your friends know better.

Meanwhile, for you, those two weeks have been hell of earth - that is, if you are still on earth. Everything looked the same, except rotted, decaying, moldy, and covered in weird vines. You don’t know how long it’s been, this place seems to be in perpetual darkness so there is no way to differentiate between night and day, on top of that, the time on your phone seems to have stopped, and the battery drains faster than normal. You had decided to turn it off days ago in hopes you could conserve energy. For those two whole weeks you had constantly been moving - the first few days were spent hiding around in this dystopian Riverdale, but after a while that creature seemed to know all your hiding spots, and so you did the only thing you could do - leave town.

Ten days later you’re now out of your work cloths and dressed in casual wear - some jeans, shoes, a shirt, and your Letterman jacket. You see a town you don’t recognize in the distance, and you’re both relieved and terrified. What if you can’t get back home? It really doesn’t matter at this point - you just want to survive, but for how much longer could you keep this up? The thump of sticky foot steps and gargling is quick to snap you out of your thoughts and keep you moving. You pass a giant sign covered in vines and other gunk with the words 'Welcome’ on it; you’re sure it would tell you where you were, but you don’t have time for that.

Once you reach the edge of the small town you whip around the corner of a house to try and catch your breath.

“Shit,” you sigh and place a hand on your chest, “I really…really need to work on my cardio.” After a brief moment you peak around the corner and see nothing, no creepy walking death flower stalking around the streets. Hesitantly, you walk out from behind the house and glance around - the coast was clear, for now.

A scream in the distance nearly gives you a heart attack and you whip around to look in the direction it came from. For a moment you stagger, caught between wanting to help and wanting to run away. So far, you have seen no other people here and you honestly thought you were the only person stuck in this twisted rotting world. You take a step in the opposite direction.

“Damn it,” you curse yourself, “Fuck,” before turning back around and sprinting in the direction of the scream. Your legs burn, and your lungs ache, you aren’t sure what’s in the air here, but its taking it’s toll on you, it gets harder and harder to catch your breath every time you do anything strenuous. Another scream rings through the air, closer this time and you take a sharp turn towards a small one story house surrounded by trees with the front door busted open. You stop on the porch to look in the house, waiting for some sign of life.

“Mom!”

Your eyes snap up to look at the closed back door.

“Jonathan!”

You make a mad dash for the back of the house around the side, just in time to see the monster leap from the doorway of a small shed to the back door of the house - smashing through it like glass.

“Son of a-” you stumble, wanting to rush in, but you need to be smart about this. With a frustrated grunt you go towards the shed, hoping to find something to defend yourself with.

“Bingo,” you say with a smile before grabbing a machete that was mounted on the wall. You pull it slightly from its sheath to examine the condition - the last thing you needed was it breaking while you went toe-to-to with a monster that was almost twice your size. The machete was just a little bit rusted and worn along the spine, but it should get the job done for now.

“Help!”

You remove your new weapon from its sheath completely before heading back towards the house.

“Mom! Jonathan! Anyone!”

You rush inside the house through the shattered door while the monster is distracted by the little boy.

“Hey, asshole!” You swing the sharp object and it slashes the creature across the back, leaving behind a deep gash. The Death Flower, as you so lovingly decided to call it, let out a shreek before whipping around to 'look’ at you, and you stepped back. The tall creature snarled before lowering its self to all fours, the frills covering it’s mouth adjusting with every noise it made. It stalked towards you, head held low, with its long body slinking behind it as it sized you up.

“Go,” your voice was sharp as you spoke to the little boy - probably no older than twelve. The beast snarled as the front portion of its body lowered further, its front arms widening, and back legs tensing as it prepared to lunge.

“I said go!” The boy with the bowl cut bolted just as the monster leapt for you, its mouth opening like a flower in full bloom. You swung the machete again - getting 'The Death Flower’ across the chest and knocking it off its course which, in turn, gave you a chance to move out of the way. It stumbled for a moment, losing its footing, and giving you an opportunity to bolt out the front door after the little boy.

The tween stopped for a brief moment to see if you were okay and he turned just in time to see you burst out through the front door.

“Go,” you encouraged him as you placed the machete in your belt, “keep going!” Placing a hand on his back you hastily urged him to move.

“What is this place,” he asked. Oh, if only he knew your predicament.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you said as the two of you sprinted from the house.

Once the two of you were deeper into the town you pulled him into an old fashioned-looking arcade and closed the door before moving to try and push the nearest machine infront of the door. You sigh as you slide down the side of the machine into a sitting position, exhausted from what just went down.

“What town is this,” you’re finally able to ask - though still out of breath.

“H-Hawkins,” he answers shakily.

“And your name?”

He freezes, not sure if he should tell you his name or not - his mother always told him not to talk to strangers.

“C'mon kiddo, we might both be stuck in this place for a while, and I haven’t seen another person in…” You stop to think, “I don’t know how long, might as well get to know eachother.”

“Will,” he says finally still trying to catch his breath, “Will Byers.”

You nod before introducing yourself.

“Riverdale?” He tilts his head slightly, “Never heard of it.”

“Just like I’ve never heard of Hawkins,” you snickered.

“Are you okay?” Will looked like he was feeling better, but you were still panting like a dog.

“Yeah,” you wave him off, “it’s just,” you motion to all around you, “this place- this world. I’ve been here a while, and I dunno’ - the air isn’t too good.”

“How long is a while?” He took a step closer to you, finally feeling a little better about you being here with him.

You shrug, “I don’t know, days? Weeks? Maybe months? It feels like a long time, and there is no night and day here, so it’s hard to count.” Will shivers at the thought of being stuck in this darker world for months.

“How did you make is all this time?”

“Wasn’t easy,” you sighed, “I had to scavenge for food in these houses, and it’s weird-” you looked at him, “even though these houses are abandoned, the food never looks grown over. It actually almost always looks new.” You leaned your head back, finally able to breath normally, “The plumbing still works too, oddly enough.”

“Do you know how to get out of here?”

You sigh again and shake your head, “Believe me, if I did I wouldn’t be here right now.”

After a while, you both decide to raid the back of the arcade counter. Will said some employee always liked to hide the best snacks in the back for himself. Now you were both indulging in some chips, candy, and bottles of water.

“So what’s with the cloths?”

“What’s wrong with my cloths,” he shrunk slightly, like he was preparing himself for the worst.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, “just,” you swallowed the piece of candy that was in your mouth, “the last time I saw a kid dressed in a plaid button down, and neon jacket vest with bowl cut was in an old 80’s or 90’s show.” You broke of another piece of candy to put in your mouth, “Just figured you had some event going on at school or something.”

His nose wrinkled and his brows furrowed into a look of confusion, “But it is the 80’s.” Now it was your turn to give him a look that said, 'I’m not stupid, kid.’

“No,” you insisted.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes!” He nodded his head vigorously, “It’s 1983!”

You huffed, reaching into the satchel you managed to keep all this time and pull out your phone before turning it on. The display was still the same, a picture of you and your friends as the lock screen, and the same date and time from when you first arrived here was shown. Battery now 25%. He eyed the electronic skeptically, not sure what the heck it was as the small screen lit up the tiny nook behind the counter.

“Look,” you pulled up the calendar before turning it around to show him. The month and year you 'disapeared’ was in large text at the top of the screen and the day was highlighted in a blue squear, “Year 20XX.”

He looked at you incredulously, “What’s that?”

You gave him a dead pan look, “A cell phone.”

“That’s a phone,” he asked disbelieving, “But it’s so small, and it’s not plugged in to anything?” You raised a brow, maybe this kid was actually from the 80’s.

“Hm…” You turned off your phone to conserve the battery. It would make sense in some weird way. Time stood still here or at least, that’s what you thought, but what if time didn’t exist here at all? Your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a roar in the distance, and your first response was to put your arm around Will’s shoulders and pull him closer to you.

Your mind was going a million miles an hour, time spent here has made you adapt to being fast on your feet.

“We need to move that machine away from the door.”

“What?!”

“Shhhh!” You place an index finger infront of your mouth, “If that thing gets in here, that door may be our only way out.” Will was silent for a second.

“There’s a back door, that only employees have access to.”

You look at him with a blank face, “Do you have a key to it?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “but I know where the spare key is!” You think about your options for a moment.

“We probably shouldn’t be here if it does get here.”

He has a point. You nod in agreement before following the twelve-year-old to the back room where the out of order games are kept. Will gets down on all fours before reaching his arm between two machines and pulling out an old rusted key.

“Follow me,” he leads you through the small maze of broken arcade machines to a door in the corner of the room.

'CRASH’

Both of your heads whip around in the direction of the noise and a loud gargled roar is heared. Will fumbles with the key, nearly dropping it in his panic while you pull the machete from your belt - just in case.

“You got it,” you asked in a whisper, determined to keep your hiding spot a secret.

“Y-yeah,” he studdered turning the keys with trembling hands. His nerves were shot, the poor boy - you felt bad for him, but you had to push your emotions aside for now and focus on keeping the two of you alive.

“I got it!”

“Shhhh!” You whipped around to look at him, before the sound of heavy footsteps reached your ears.

This one came out longer than intended lol. I just meant for it to be like a short anecdotal story, but I wasn’t happy with it short so I just kinda’ kept going. Might end up being a series, idk what do you guys think? The last two numbers on the date previously read 17, but I updated it to say XX so you all could feel free to place the current year in your minds. Sorry if it seems a little odd!

[floggingink]

Riverdale, “Chapter Seventeen: The Town That Dreaded Sundown”

SOME TENSE SHIT!!!!! SIT BACK!!!!!

Jughead should definitely know that a serial killer needs to have a body count of three to earn that sobriquet, so what Riverdale has is a sort of obstinate murderer

I LOVE his serial killer thought-mannequins

“Damn good coffee”: of course the Riverdale library has one light bulb per shelf and of course the librarian is dressed like that, with a big, big flower pin and half-moon readers

Jug should probably NOT say things like “Research, not for school,” unless he wants to be put on a list, like in Se7en (he has to raise flags verbally as it appears the library is offline)

Cheryl’s hair: there is very little Cheryl in this episode, but I take heart from the fact that her hair looks as bouncy and incredible as always, in the background

Alice rolling her eyes at Hal putting in a stronger lock seems to encapsulate much of Alice’s particular joie de vivre: She hoovers up every grisly bit of information, draws the most macabre conclusion possible, and spreads her vision to the masses for others to panic, but dares the danger itself to try and affect her, Alice Cooper

another slide transition wherein Alice and Jughead are more or less doing the same thing!

one of these days Jughead is going to cautiously open the door of his trailer and get absolutely pummeled

Archie made a little target out of printer paper with a Sharpie

I really like the long, serious, universe-appropriate fallout of the video. people are like, What the FUCK were you thinking? because it was a fucking insane thing to do!

Hermione is ON THE MONEY about Archie right now. Archie was a bumbling hero last episode, but at the end, VIA HIRAM, took it to “the streets” and is now “threatening violence,” because he has PTSTunnel Vision

Veronica’s hot pink miniskirt? seconded

Hiram beaming as he ticks off the “chaos and confusion” spreading around Riverdale, half of it brought about by his bequest, wishes he had a glass of port to swirl menacingly

the Coopers seem to have a centerpiece on their dining room table of a big bowl filled with napkins

Best costume bit: Betty’s cut-out paper snowflake shirt???

The Blossom spawn: REMEMBER THAT POLLY RAN AWAY AGAIN? it was like the fourth time she ran away

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: Alice’s HUGE DRAMATIC inhales as she cry-scolds Betty. “AND THEN YOU TRY AND MAKE ME THE MONSTER.” PUNCH THE TABLE

Hal’s extremely calm, blue American Eagle sweater

okay when Archie said he took the original video down on his own, I was slightly mollified, but you know, YOU KNOW HE WASN’T DONE OKAY

at Betty’s request that Jughead leave Southside, during lunch, to go to Riverdale, during lunch: “Betty, I have to try and at least maintain a semblance of being a student here.”

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: Sweet Pea’s computer is such a piece of shit, he is amazing

Toni has on some sort of incredible elastic headband from Claire’s

Gay?!: Fogarty wants to earn his “Serpent stripes,” which apparently means you need to...take something to the streets…

he and Moose would probably get along. they seem to be built from the same mold

Sweet Pea LOVES this idea and pounds the table!!! gerrymandered violence!!!! meanwhile Jughead is panicking because he is really bad at violence

Gay.: “I know this guy,” AKA I slept on his bedroom floor for a couple weeks

Jughead calls Archie “a milquetoast,” a word Archie would not understand

there is a BEAUTIFUL, eye-rolling Serpent along the wall behind Sweet Pea, with a nose ring, who does not care that Jughead does not like this

Sweet Pea’s sort of caustic bluster comes from someone who has probably never shot anybody. I think he is still trying to figure out Jughead, whom he just calls, proprietarily, “Jones”

Archie > Dawson: Archie strutting down the hallway, revelling inwardly at how badass his callout of the Black Hood was, crashing into a Veronica who does not give a shit, is almost perfect except that there isn’t literally a record-scratch sound effect

there is a girl in a pink sweater, by the way, who gives Archie what would be my expression, which is like, Don’t you, like, play the guitar?

Fifth period is AP English: Archie read Lord of the Flies but missed the part where it’s not about human nature in general but rather the nature of spoiled boys

Veronica is slightly stunned that Archie does not have a plan more intricate than basically what he outlined in the video. basically that Hermione was right

I don’t think Betty/Jughead and Veronica/Archie interact this episode, which means we do not get to read the screen of Archie’s phone receiving Jughead’s text: “nice video, YOU DOLT. ARE YOU HAVING SOME SORT OF PSYCHOTIC BREAK.” five minutes later: “is this because I stopped sleeping on your bedroom floor? tell me the truth.”

someone transcribed the audio of Archie’s video into Principal Weatherbee’s olive Moleskin dayplanner

if Episode 1-5 Archie saw what Episode 17 Archie has done to his music and football career, he would have a coronary

Kevin has “reupped” his membership to a hookup site for blue-state people in red-state states

OOH the soundtrack when Betty talks about getting the Black Hood letter was SORT OF opening-credits Se7en, but like, by way of the Riverdale theme

Betty makes a classic horror movie decision (good or bad TBD by the outcome) of deciding not to tell anyone about The Test

Kevin makes a valid point that Betty is not unionized FBI Special Agent Will Graham, or even trainee Clarice Starling

50 Shades of Betty: Betty’s eyeliner manipulates Alice’s dramaternal instincts

Alice assumed the Black Hood is “terrified” of her so he uses the second-best Alice, which is Betty

in another Zodiac move, Alice publishes the cipher in case an old retired couple takes a crack at it and solves it over breakfast (this is a great movie)

Reggie’s world is collapsing around his ears: “PLEASE, BRO. SIGN THE LETTER.”

Archie is taking Alice’s spin seriously that the killer must be a Southsider, like he took Hiram’s word to form…….I’m exhausted

this episode’s Archie is the same Archie as “The Outsiders” when he outs Jughead’s father as a Serpent, which was awful, except the awfulness this episode entertains me

Dilton just wants to watch the world burn, which at this point Archie should recognize since he says things like “The hunter becomes the hunted” and “And then there was one”

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica quietly confronts her father, Slytherin to Slytherin, about Archie’s simpleness being both a pro and con

is it weird for her to have to sit facing a portrait of herself? (probably not)

the CW website dims when you pause it, so I can’t read Jughead’s notes, but he’s taking notes longhand, which is probably, like, calming

I want to say he’s put up a few of his movie posters! Jughead has a bedroom!!!!!

Toni prefers Jake Gyllenhaal’s Zodiac book from the movie (this is a great season of Riverdale for David Fincher)

Jughead is kind of adorable in this scene. he has never had a friend, EVER, who has not given him a weird look when he drops a reference to H. H. Holmes’ murder hotel or Dahmer’s sex zombies or whatever (Archie does not know who they are). his big blue-eyed gaze up at Toni is because he finally found someone else who listens to The Last Podcast on the Left

though Albert Fish stuck pins up his dick, so there’s a time and a place for all quips

“True crime is my crack” is an understatement

“True crime is my JJ” would work

the lock screen on Betty’s phone is like a pink Versailles print because Betty is a French Rococo princess

in a twist I never saw coming, Jughead chooses the “__ - __” version of a dash instead of an em dash

Veronica supports Archie’s dangerous side-project because right now it’s just Archie and his “comely crew” picking up Ethel on the side of the road. she does not know of the plan to go TO THE SOUTHSIDE, LIKE A MORON, for a confrontation no one else wants

I’d like to know what secret fund Archie is dipping into to buy Ms. Grundy $300 cello bows and $500 tactical Army gear

Jughead 1) brought his beanie with him to the door and 2) doesn’t bother putting it on when it’s Betty, because he is a special young man

Betty wants to see Jughead EVERY DAY

Jughead becomes the second television character in history to admit to having morning breath, after Sookie St. James

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Jughead’s freshly slept-on mop of hair, Jughead’s bedhead, reinforcing the lesson that seeing him without his hat on is a privilege reserved for the few, the proud

Jughead eats: Jughead’s breakfast of coffee and cereal feels right, true

consider that Jughead could have lied and not told Betty that he’s been doing research on the side—and it’s not even on the side! it’s on his own time, at his school—with his ONE OTHER FRIEND, leaving her to “discover” this fact later when Toni “lets it slip,” what we might call the Gossip Girl route. instead Jughead’s like, I’ve been doing X with Z, by the way

Betty very cannily proposes a group project to steer this train barrelling down a hill and makes sure to haul in Kevin, an ally

Jughead’s resistance to fully embracing Kevin continues

“Are you saying I’m not rocking the scoop-neck look?”

Veronica was rich: Veronica’s late-night planning is impressive, as was someone’s ability to come up with a wholly original logo for a downtown office space converted into a restaurant only open for brunch and happy hour for her

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: Cheryl agreed to help distribute the T-shirts, I can only assume because she knows she is spreading Hiram’s chaos and confusion

WHAT’S UP, TONI?

Kevin knows where his platonic bread is buttered: “ICONIC AND BEYOND REPROACH”

Kevin looks SO MUCH like his father in this scene!

Betty TAKES DOWN her ponytail, in an incredible soft-power move!

God bless jingle-jangle: Toni is right that people need to stop TOTALLY ERRONEOUSLY forcing themselves to assume everything bad is from the southside and Betty is right that Toni is TOTALLY ERRONEOUSLY forcing herself to assume Betty is Betty’s mother! it’s not Toni’s fault that she didn’t get that Blue & Gold issue with Betty’s huge “FP JONES PURE AS FRESHLY FALLEN SNOW” headline. however I do wish Toni’s defenses of the southside, that mostly it’s patriarchs like Clifford Blossom who are involved in drugs and that Archie’s Red Circle IS A GANG, were not so couched in obnoxious SJW verbiage

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: also I agree with other very eloquent, thoughtful people that what Toni probably wants is for Jughead to just be a fucking Serpent already and that Betty, to the Serpents, is an almost out-of-nowhere anchor to the preppy, ancien régime northside who needs to go so Jughead’s transformation will be complete

CAN PEOPLE STOP TELLING JUGHEAD’S GANG SECRETS FOR HIM? CAN JUGHEAD LET PEOPLE KNOW THINGS HE WANTS TO TELL THEM ON HIS OWN TIME? CAN JUGHEAD HAVE ONE SINGLE THING TO HIMSELF?

Archie going to the southside, completely unbidden, is GLORIOUSLY HORRIBLE, OH GOD

if Jughead knew Archie was strolling around graffitiing vintage barn doors on his side of town just to intimidate the locals with a giant defacing threat of baby police state violence, Jughead would actually, literally kill him

some sorta sweet green muscle car parked there though!

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: as it is, Sweet Pea would be honored to do Jughead’s dirty work for him, except that Archie is PACKING HEAT

These students are legally children: Sweet Pea’s feelings look hurt that Archie escalated this so insanely and Archie’s hand is shaking because he wants to be a big scary guy but really he is an infant

Allison Anders’ camera pans so lovingly up Betty and Jughead’s semi-entwined bodies as a sort of cool-down exhale, like Everything is fine

Jughead confirmed big spoon

“Exhaustion. It’s not easy being us.”

Cheryl’s sheaths: Don’t miss Cheryl’s low V-neck in science class!!!

she’s partnered with Kevin, so...to be a fly on the side of that table…

Archie can TRY TO PRETEND like he’s still writing songs!

VERONICA’S READING GLASSES ARE BACK

HERMIONE IS GREAT AGAIN

“Let me tell you something about loyalty. AND I KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.”

YOU KNOW I LOVE THE HUGE THEMATIC THUNDERSTORM

YOU KNOW JUGHEAD HAULED HIMSELF TO THE COOPERS’ AFTER HE READ THAT LETTER

Jughead CANNOT BELIEVE he was not immediately included in the intimate circle of two who knew HIS GIRLFRIEND got a PERSONAL LETTER from his PET SERIAL KILLER

oh my god, oh my god, someday I will be a good enough writer (@nimmieamee) to sit down and with cool confidence articulate all the ways that Jughead’s scene with Archie in the second episode, when he grabs Archie by the lapels and shakes him, with his words, begging him to TELL SOMEBODY, is Jughead’s defining, most fantastic, saddest, righteous moment, from a kid who screams at the sky that he doesn’t care about anything yet cares EXTREMELY about EVERYTHING. it gladdens me...it is my JJ...that Jughead does the same here, to someone else he loves, who is sitting on explosive information that is putting, you know, lots of people in danger, just because the information is too close or too scary. you know, Jughead can be on whatever side of the town he wants. but Jughead is a fucking moral compass. Jughead is like the Zodiac killer’s target symbol, except that his target IS JUSTICE

“I’ve been gone for two days.”

Jughead doubts it: at this point I honestly can’t tell if I think Archie would absolutely know that Betty isn’t to blame for anything or if he’d be like….But is it possible…

goddamn fucking Jughead like when Betty was like, AM I CRAZY, Jughead is like, GET IT TOGETHER

it was too much when he sat next to her and rubbed her shoulder. his signature move. can you believe this. it even calmed Archie once. Veronica, you’re next. sit down on a couch built for two and let your eyes start to fill. I need a Jughead right now because of all the emotion I’m feeling about Jughead

HE EVEN TRIGGERS ANOTHER BLUE & GOLD BRAINWAVE I’M HAVING A HEART ATTACK

Veronica makes an instinctively uncomfortable face reaching into the tank, but the tank water is clean, for the record. I want to stand up for these bathrooms because they are so much immeasurably fancier than my high school bathrooms

Archie’s blackout speech to Veronica in his living room is the apex of his insanity, so it’s all going to be okay, but Veronica has to do all the work to get him there

“No, you just asked me to fetch your loaded gun.”

a Reggie will always defuse tension

Penelope’s looking good at the town hall! you can only barely tell her face is fucked up

“In the Book of Reg, that makes you a top-tier loyal badass.” basically what Serpent Daddy told Jughead about his father

GET IT? BECAUSE THE RED CIRCLE IS BASICALLY A GANG? they’re both gangs. case dismissed

Sweet Pea just gets cuter and cuter

SWEET PEA AND REGGIE, TOGETHER AT LAST?!

“You have crap timing, bro.”

Veronica calls them all “troglodytes,” which I think isn’t giving troglodytes enough credit

everyone promptly concedes to Veronica, who is far and away the most natural leader amongst them

Jughead and Betty break into the library to stop an actual killer and Veronica breaks into the school to get Archie’s gun, so you tell me who’s a better boyfriend (they are both excellent girlfriends)

okay maybe they go to the library, which is just open late, and calmly check out a Nancy Drew book, but once again Betty&Jughead’s plot is like THE SKY IS FALLING, meanwhile Archie is like, THIS PROBLEM I CREATED IS GETTING OUT OF HAND!

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: Mayor McCoy is about done with Alice

What damn high school in America: I don’t think Alice means that the Southside kids should integrate into Riverdale High so much as they should just end up on the streets like the hoodlums they are

THIS “PIT OF VIOLENCE WAITING TO ERUPT” IS A RED BUTTON LABELED DO NOT PRESS THAT ARCHIE ANDREWS CAN’T LOOK AWAY FROM

Certified pedigree: “Alice, you’re the one holding the cleaver.” WHERE IS YOUR SON FREDERICK

Fred saying “Meanwhile there’s a guy out there with a gun and a hood” overtop Archie, a guy with a gun and a hood, “bringing out the worst in this town”

Archie’s haymaker is really good, though

Sixth period is Intro to Film: the pullback along the line of Serpents and Bulldogs crashing into each other is straight out of Captain America: Civil War because it cannot be improved upon

does Hiram WANT Riverdale to get divided into two different towns so that he can buy one of the towns?

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: Veronica, in a cape, fires a gun into the air to stop the gang fight, because out of everyone there she is actually impressive

Dilton Doiley is a canonically great dancer: Does Dilton—stab himself? is Dilton ACTUALLY a psychopath?

Betty and Jughead with their post-investigation wet hair is classic

I am breathlessly waiting, BREATHLESSLY, for Alice’s hammer to come down on Jughead

Veronica uses the word “fraught,” which Archie will write down for later

The female gaze: Archie’s torso and Veronica’s thighs

the warm summer rain of perspective starting to mist in on Archie’s garden of trauma

Betty answers her the call from “Unknown,” because I suppose she’s never answered one and it’s turns out it’s from the car dealership in the state you don’t even live in anymore trying to tell you that the warranty on your Corolla is about to expire soon when you know very fucking well it expired like ten years ago and they just want YOUR MONEY

Please protect Betty: BETTY PLEASE BE CAREFUL!!!!!

NEXT WEEK: Cheryl waves at me

[thekillingquill]

Dark Side of Your Room | Episode 5

This is a sequel to At the Drive-In. However, having read the prequel is not necessarily a requirement. I leave that up to your discretion. At The Drive-In: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 + Epilogue

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Pairing: Jughead x Reader, Jughead x Betty Word Count: 6,661 Warnings: Curse words, mentions of drugs and alcohol, I did not proof this at all... probably should have split this into two parts. Summary: Jughead and Reader reconnect at Southside High where he notices that she’s wearing a very familiar leather jacket. It’s not long until he has a jacket of his own. A/N: It’s funny but I had Acts 1 & 2 of this mostly written before the season premiere and like... jingle jangle am I right. Anyway, this is a long chapter. I like a lot of elements of it and hope you will reblog/message/interact about what your favourite parts were, too. P.S. The cure to writers block? Folding laundry.

Somewhere in between Who I used to be And who I’ll be tomorrow When the champagne blows my mind Thrills don’t come for free The price you pay for dreams In a sea of strangers I can’t find me anymore.

On Monday she and Jughead sit on opposite ends of the same table in the cafeteria. The group around them is lively, full of a buoyancy that she can’t mirror. She tries not to be obvious when she watches him and tries harder not to be pleased when she catches him watching her in return. He’s more easily dragged into conversations, open to laughter, and personable with the Serpents or kids of Serpents that sit here each day. He fits in seamlessly with the group.

She’s seen him like this, before, with Archie, Veronica, and Betty in a booth at Pop’s. His smiles came easily, his jokes flowed freely and all four of them were a shining beacon of love and friendship. But she can’t help but remember all of the times he sat in the booth and stood apart from the others on the days where his darkness threatened to break through the surface.

Even though they’re at the same table, she and Jughead don’t speak to each other and she’s glad for it. She made a mistake, exposing herself the way she did. She is cursed to love Jughead Jones the Third for the rest of her young life, but he never needed to know about it. Now that he did, though? Every glance exchanged between them felt like gunpowder keg rolling toward an open flame.

People were starting to notice--or rather, one person: Ricki Penderghast. Every school has a girl like Ricki blowing through their halls: loud, brash, knowledgeable. Not the most well liked person, but a loyal friend to be had. Ricki was the first friend Y/N made here and though she may flit away at times, she always came back to be loud, brash, and knowledgeable.

“I’m feeling about 80-85% certain that the new tall, dark, and weird kid wants to get you in the backseat of his car.”

“Yeah, he has a girlfriend and he doesn’t have a car.” Y/N tells her trying to sound bored. Her damnable flushed cheeks give her away, though, because Ricki’s lips twist up into an amused smirk.

“Fine. I’ll amend my previous statement: he looks like he wants to take you anywhere he can have you. And he doesn’t look at you like he’s somebody’s boyfriend. Honey, he looks at you like he’s starving and you? You look like a fuckin’ three course meal. Would it really hurt to give him a little taste?”

Y/N gives Ricki a sharp look.

“New topic or leave.” She tells her firmly. Ricki, blessed with her mother’s full lips, pouts and widens her brown eyes. The expression melts back into her smug smirk after a beat and she playfully pulls at a strand of Y/N’s hair.

“Fine. How’s this for a topic change: there’s gonna be a flyer in your locker before the end of the day.” Ricki releases the strand of hair and reaches between Y/Ns arms to snag a baby carrot, biting down on it with an exaggerated eyebrow lift, knowing that she now has the other girl’s full attention.

“Hey--” Y/N starts, distracted momentarily by the theft. She switches topics quickly. “How do you know about the flyers?” There’s no point in another argument with Ricki, especially over a carrot. It’s never a good idea to pick too many fights with girls like Ricki, because they’ll fight dirty and they’ll keep fighting until it’s an all out war. The town is already on the brink of war and Riverdale doesn’t need a second before the first has even begun.

Ricki flashes her purple coated eyelid in a wink and pushes away from the table. Y/N watches her saunter away, irritated when Ricki pauses at Jughead’s shoulder. She clenches her fist as Ricki leans down to whisper something to him. Y/N can tell that Jughead is working to keep his expression neutral, but she can see the small signs of worry and embarrassment in the way he tilts his chin toward his chest, keeping his eyes on the table while the tips of his ears flush red, and a slight crease forms by the corner of his mouth.

He looks up when Ricki leaves and Y/N doesn’t turn away fast enough. Their eyes meet and she is lost. She has never wanted anything the way she wants him and the realization has her shaking in her seat. He has her heart in his hand and she’s sure that he knows it now. The uncertainty of what he plans to do with it has her feeling on edge, like at any moment he could bring her to her knees or drown her in euphoria.

The bell rings and their connection is severed. She leaves her tray behind and speed walks out of the cafeteria to her locker. Like Ricki predicted, there is a crumpled piece of acid green paper sitting at the bottom. Y/N smooths the page out, admiring the outline of a snake for a moment before she flips the page, noting the time and place. She puts the flyer between the pages of her math textbook and slams her locker shut.

Alexander doesn’t reply to her calls or texts until Wednesday morning. She expects a joke, an eggplant emoji, or a fucking finally!!! Instead, she gets two words: skip fifth. It’s not the first time he’s asked her to skip class, but the notion of sneaking out of school to meet him always gives her butterflies.

It’s almost too easy to slip outside in the rush between fourth and fifth period. She knows that Alexander won’t be waiting outside of the school in plain sight, so she keeps her head down and power walks down the street. She finds him pulled to the side of the road, straddling his bike and sporting his Serpent jacket. His face is obscured by his helmet and she finds herself feeling unnerved by him. There is something dark and desperate surrounding him, but she knows that she’ll go with him because it’s what she always does.

He kicks the bike to life while she clips on her own helmet and he doesn’t wait for her to signal that she’s ready before he accelerates. She clings desperately to him, trying to recover her balance. WIth a rush of anger, she digs her nails into the thin fabric of his t-shirt, raking them across his abdomen. She hopes it hurts.

Alexander rides recklessly, blowing through every amber light and taking sharp corners. For a brief moment, Y/N believes that this is going to be it for her--her last ride, her last anything--when Alexander pulls into an underground parking garage and kills the engine. She had wrongly assumed that he would take her home.

“Where are we?” She demands as soon as she removes her helmet. Alexander, already unburdened of his helmet, pulls his fingers through his hair and shakes it out. He rolls his eyes and grabs her helmet from her, putting his back to her.

“What have I told you about questions, baby girl?” He asks, but there’s no bite to his voice. He gestures with a hand for her to follow him to a metal door with chipped green paint being held open by a cinderblock. She clenches her jaw to keep silent, glaring at his back while they ascend three flights of stairs.

She had been very clear when she told him that she never wanted to step foot inside of apartment 307 again, yet here they were: standing outside of apartment 307, waiting for someone to answer the door. A quiet anger begins to fester inside of her that she can’t force down. It’s dangerously close to boiling over and the worst part is that Alexander won’t even look at her.

The door opens as far as the chain will allow, one wide blue eye staring out from the crack. The barrel of a gun glints in the light, pointed directly at Alexander’s chest.

“Who the fuck is the chick?” The one eyed man asks in a low voice tight with a worry that verges on paranoia. She knows enough to recognize that this man is on something, and it scares her that she doesn’t know what it could be. Alexander laughs lowly, placing his palm flat on the door and pushing on it. The chains creak loudly in protest and Y/N begins to feel a real terror creeping up her spine.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, asking me questions like that? She is with me and that’s all you need to know. Now open the FUCKING DOOR.” Alexander punctuates the end of his sentence by slamming his hand flat against the wood. Both Y/N and the man flinch at the echoing bang.

The man and the gun disappear and the door shuts, only to reopen moments later. Alexander shoulders his way inside roughly, shoving the man into the wall as he passes by. Y/N stays close to his back, keeping her eyes down.

Jughead may be right about her, she doesn’t want to see this side of Alexander--the recklessness, bad decisions… the danger. Alexander fumbles for her wrist, pulling her ahead of his body. Her eyes don’t have time to adjust to the dark hallway before he shoves her inside of a room that is aglow with multiple tealight candles and soft afternoon light.

“Show me,” Alexander demands, hand out and fingers twitching in expectation. Y/N pulls the folded acid green paper from her pocket and holds it out to him. For the first time since he picked her up from school, she catches a glimpse of his face. The state of him knocks the air from her lungs and her fear is overpowered by genuine concern for the boy in front of her.

The brief glimpse is enough to showcase the circles under his eyes, which are dark with something dangerous and desperate. His unkempt appearance and three day old stubble, along with his return to apartment 307, are all warning signs for something she won’t let herself think about. Everything about this situation worries her.

Alexander crouches down with his back toward her, teasing the flame with the corner of the flyer, transfixed by the tealight. She drops down beside him, analyzing his side profile. She wants to physically grab him and pull him out of this situation. She wants to squeeze him so tightly to her chest that she breaks his carefully crafted facade of what a man should be to reveal the boy underneath. She wants to know how she hasn’t noticed his backsliding before now.

An apology is dancing on the tip of her tongue. He’s been looking out for her from day one, but she hasn’t been doing the same for him. She feels guilty, like she has been taking their relationship for granted, and it blinds her momentarily to all of his shortcomings (and there are so god damn many).

“I can’t take you to this party.” He tells her distractedly as the paper begins to smoke.

“What do you mean you can’t take me to this party? Alexander, you need to be working that party!” Alexander rolls his eyes lazily.

“That’s why I can’t take you. I gotta be hustlin’ all night. I ain’t gonna have time to be babying you, alright? Someone else is going to have to take you.” It occurs to her that Alexander already has someone in mind.

“How the fuck do you go from being a possessive control freak to handing me off to a disloyal snake?” Alexander stands abruptly and turns to her and his face is a hurricane.

She stumbles back into the wall without realizing it, a true terror gripping her entire being. She is frozen in place as he descends upon her, flames crawling up the flyer that is still pinched between his index finger and thumb. She raises a trembling hand, pointing at the burning paper and he drops it to the ground, stomping out the flames.

“Stop your fucking shaking, baby girl. I’m not going to hit you.” He says with contempt. They’re in the eye of the hurricane now and she can’t seem to catch her breath. “Breathe, baby girl, breathe.”

He’s trying to be soothing, but he’s forgotten how. She knows that he’s frustrated with her, can see his grasp on patience slipping steadily. He growls, a low sound that sends her heart into overdrive, and turns his back to her. She sucks in a desperate breath and the storm rages on.

“We wouldn’t have this problem if you just did your fucking part. Why is the kid still asking questions huh? Why is he disloyal? Huh? What is the fucking hold up here?” Alexander turns back to face her, taking two large steps forward until he is nearly pressed against her. “These are not rhetorical questions, baby girl.”

It feels like someone has just dropped a lead weight on her chest, but she somehow finds enough air in her lungs to reply.

“I’ve been trying to tell you. He has a girlfriend and we are not the kind of people who can ignore that. Betty Cooper is his first love and I can’t break that bond. You’re wrong about us, Alexander.” She desperately tries to fill her lungs again, but it feels like trying to breathe through a straw clogged with one of Pop’s shakes.

Alexander laughs lowly, gripping the side of her face and tilting her head up. He places a hard, sloppy kiss on her forehead and then steps back from her.

“I’ve been waiting for you to see it, for the both of you to open your goddamn eyes. Betty Cooper isn’t Jughead Jones’ first love and she never was. It’s you, baby girl, it has always been you. FP saw it, I see it, I bet even Pop Tate noticed it.”

“No,” she whispers, hitting the back of her head against the wall. “That’s not true.”

“Look,” Alexander begins with a sigh, placing his hands on her shoulders. Something in his sigh makes it easier for her to breathe. His eyes, she realizes, are softer than she has ever seen them. There is a raw vulnerability to his expression, a gentleness to his touch, that steadies her. “I get that it scares you, but it’s love, baby girl. I’ve… I’ve been in it and I know what it looks like. You love him don’t you?”

She has only said it out loud once, indirectly, in a bathroom to the wrong person. She locks her jaw, swallows the words back. She won’t say it, she won’t.

“I already know you do. I need to hear you say it, okay? Say it, Y/N.” His grip on her shoulders tightens and he pulls her impossibly closer.

“No,” she says stubbornly. Alexander smirks down at her, backing slowly away from her with his hands up.

“So you’re not going to care when he goes missing because he can’t keep his nose clean. It won’t kill you to know that he’s sinkin’ in the goddamn river with a third eye. You don’t love him.” Y/N can’t help but flinch at his words, her hand coming up to rest over her heart.

“Stop,” she tells him quietly.

“No, I won’t stop. Not until you say it out loud, baby girl.” Alexander moves to the tealight, teasing the air above the flame with his fingers. “You know I’ll be the one to do it, don’t you? God help me, I’m starting to like that little shit.”

“Alexander,” she tries to say with authority. Except it comes out watery and she realizes that she’s crying. She drags in a shuddering breath and says the words out loud. “I do. I do love him.” Alexander gives her a rare smile.

“Good. Does he know yet?” She can’t speak through the lump in her throat, so she nods once. “This party will definitely be one for the books. Now let’s get you back to school, baby girl, before Moms puts my balls on display for the neighbours.”

She knows that going to this party will mean going with Jughead. As Alexander begins to lead her out of the room she starts running through scenario after scenario of what could happen at this party. All of them end badly.

“You look nice. You and Alexander going somewhere tonight?” Y/N jumps at the sound of Moms’ voice. Y/N laughs nervously and smooths down her skirt, looking up at Moms through her eyelashes. It’s a rare sight, to find Moms sitting casually at the dining room table with a laundry basket next to her bare feet. Moms works such odd hours that she usually does chores while Y/N is at school or in the middle of the night when Y/N is supposed to be sleeping.

And Y/N almost never sees Moms outside of her work clothes. It’s a little jarring to see Moms with her hair down, outside of a ponytail or a sleek bun it is a thick forest of dark curls wearing a loose grey night shirt with a faded image of Eeyore on it and a pair of black cotton shorts.

The Man, in a moment of romanticism, once quietly remarked that Moms is still as beautiful as she was when she was 17 years old. Y/N can see it--Moms is a slight woman comprised of soft curves. Her skin always appears flawlessly smooth, a tawny beige with golden undertones and these long dark eyelashes that frame her warm honey eyes.

Despite being soft in appearance, there is an indescribable strength and fierceness to be found in those eyes. They say what her mouth will not--you will not fuck with me, I am a goddess and can not be touched by any mortal.

“Uhm, no actually. Jughead’s going to pick me up.” Moms momentarily pauses folding a t-shirt to fix her foster daughter with a worried stare.

“But he’s going to be there, right? I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with you going to one of these things without him. I don’t know this Jughead. I mean, who names their kid Jughead?” Y/N laughs quietly into her fist.

“Jughead is FP’s son. He’s got a good heart.” Y/N pauses when she hears the distinct sound of a motorcycle pulling onto the loose gravel outside of their home.

“But Alexander is going to be there tonight, right?” Moms begins to pull socks out of her basket at random, sighing when she can’t seem to find a match.

“Yeah, but he’s gonna be busy so he’s got Jughead looking after me.” Moms sighs again, a heavier sound in their quiet conversation. She throws the mismatched socks back into her basket and leans her elbow on the table, fixing Y/N with a hard look.

“Well you tell that Jughead Jones that I don’t give a hoot who his father is. I expect you home before midnight, virtue intact.” Y/N’s eyes dart to the front door when she hears the engine cut outside. She realizes that Moms meeting Jughead would be a worst case scenario that she hadn’t thought of when she was worrying about what would happen tonight.

“He’s got a girlfriend, Moms, and she’s a nice girl. She’s tenacious and clever and beautiful. I’m pretty confident that my virtue will be safe this evening.” She’s speaking too fast, and she’s scared that Jughead Jones is the kind of boy to come to the door when picking up a girl, even if that girl isn’t his girlfriend. She shuffles her feet, the zippers of her boots bouncing metallically off of each other as she tries to beat him to the door.

“If his girlfriend is so great, how come he’s not taking her to this party?” Moms asks with a raised eyebrow. The question brings the memory of Ricki’s statement and Alexander’s revelation to the forefront of her mind and she laughs, a tired sound.

“It’s not her scene.” And it’s not. Girls like Betty Cooper don’t belong in this world, but once upon a time Y/N used to think the same thing about herself. Now here she is, a frequent flyer collector and who knows? Give it a few weeks and maybe Jughead will be taking Betty to these parties. “I gotta go Moms, I’ll be home before midnight, okay?” She turns and reaches for the door when Moms’ voice cracks through the air like a whip and curls around her ankles to keep her in place.

“You know, you’re all of those things, too, Y/N. You’re kind, tenacious, clever, brave, strong and beautiful. I heard what you weren’t saying, and I don’t want to hear that again, do you understand? Under this roof, we will not speak of other people like they are above us. We are all God’s children.” Y/N doesn’t need to look back to know that Moms has her fingers curled over the silver cross she wears on a chain.

“Okay, I understand.” She replies quickly, escaping through the front door with a slight tremble. She can’t put it into words, but when Moms makes statements like those it gets to her. It makes her feel twitchy, like something inside of her is shifting to make room for something big. Something like hope. This unknown feeling, this potential hope, presses hard against her ribs when she sees Jughead sitting back on his motorcycle, helmet tucked under one arm.

“Alexander said I shouldn’t go to the door,” he tells her loudly, eyes glued to her shoes. She can’t be sure, but she thinks that he may have just checked her out. She jogs quickly toward him and pulls his helmet from his grip and he lets her.

He lets her push up on her toes, reaching above them both to pull the helmet over his beanie. He lets her clip it into place, closes his eyes against her lingering touch to his jaw. He opens his eyes and watches her trace the painted crown without any protest.

And then she is sliding on behind him, her breasts pressed against his back and her arms tightly wrapped around his middle, hands precariously placed and he lets her. The bike kicks to life and she presses her face against his shoulder, laughing when they spray up gravel and the wind lifts her hair behind her. She can’t see that he’s fighting a smile, but she can feel it. It reminds them both of nights at the drive-in, of the beautiful before.

She wants the feeling to stay, wants one night of before, but she feels it slipping away from them as they approach their destination. It evaporates when the engine dies and an empty feeling pushes its way between them--an obstacle unseen and impossible to press back against. She runs a hand through her hair, pushing through the tangles that the wind created, and walks ahead of Jughead to a front porch with the saggy stairs.

The flyer cited an address that is familiar to her--it’s the same house she came to when Alexander brought her to her first flyer party. She remembers it so clearly, the first night he crawled in through her bedroom window and wrapped her up in his arms.

“Baby girl,” he said looking down at her with a wicked grin. “I think you need to blow off some steam and I know just the place.” It had been strange, sneaking out that first time. Everything back then had been so unknown to her: the boy, the house, the adventure.

Now it’s a familiar routine. She doesn’t knock on the door or look back to see if Jughead is behind her. She opens the door and she is swept up by a crowd of familiar faces. Ricki is there, pressing a bottle into her hand and people are chanting her name. The excitement hits her hard and she’s grinning, laughing, clinking her bottle with her friends and her family, ready to blow off some steam.

There are hugs and high fives, kisses pressed to cheeks, gleeful greetings and before Y/N has made it through the living room she has finished the drink Ricki handed her in the entryway. She holds up her empty bottle, telling everyone that she needs a fresh one and pushes her way into the kitchen.

She feels so fucking alive and cared about. Everyone in this house wants to see her, wants to talk to her, wants to bask in her glow and she is so blindingly bright in this environment. Jughead hasn’t seen anything like it before. He realizes that he knew the light was there--had seen it in her the first night. He pauses at the entryway of the kitchen, watching her, unsure if he can stand to get that close to something so bright. It hits him in that moment that if he gets close to her, he could burn and it scares him.

“Hey man, can we get you a beer or something?” Jughead doesn’t know this guy, hasn’t seen him before.

“No, I’m good.” He tells him. The guy frowns.

“You sure, man?” He asks again, like maybe Jughead said no because he felt like he can’t say yes.

“I’m sure,” Jughead says with more heat. “I don’t drink.”

“Alright, man. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’m sure we’ve got a coupla virgins somewhere in there.” Jughead shakes his head, moving closer to Y/N who is leaning back against the counter and sipping a beer.

“They’ll keep asking, you know.” She tells him when he’s within earshot. “It’s like visiting an Italian household. They keep offering you food even if your plate is full and you’re fit to burst.”

“That’s fine. I don’t drink.” He says with more heat than he means to. She laughs and shakes her head.

“I can help,” she tells him, tilting her bottle toward him. “Just grab a beer and hold it. They’ll stop being pushy if you’re holding something.” Jughead rolls his eyes, feeling irritated about the crowd, about the noise, about how she’s flourishing here, about maybe being wrong about her, about how good she looks.

“How long do we have to stay here?” He grouses at her, folding his arms over his chest. She laughs, reaching out to pat his arm consolingly.

“Babe, we just got here. There’s a lot more fun to be had tonight.” And then she’s gone, flitting away from him, disappearing into the crowd. Jughead remembers Alexander’s instructions: stick close to her, keep her safe, and if any guys put their hands on her you break their fucking nose or I’ll break something of yours.

So he follows after her. She’s weaving in and out of the crowd with a practiced ease, exchanging grins and hugs with too many people for Jughead to keep count of. He finds an empty portion of wall and leans back against it, keeping his eyes trained on her as she starts to dance with her friends.

That’s how the night goes. She dances. People get excited to see her. She hugs them. She dances. She keeps her thumb pressed over the lip of her bottle, jumping around with a carefree abandon that is unfamiliar to him. Occasionally she takes a break, catching his eye and gesturing with a tilt of her head for him to follow her. She disappears into the bathroom, alone, and reappears with an infectious grin and flushed cheeks. She brushes against him and starts the routine over again

Alexander finds him leaning against the wall, his own cheeks flushed from the cold and hands in the pockets of his jeans, clad in his Serpent jacket. There is something dangerous about the guy that Jughead doesn’t fully trust. He nods at Jughead and leans next to him, finding Y/N easily in the middle of the crowd.

“She can really be the life of the party, huh?” He says casually to Jughead.

“I guess,” the younger boy replies, scowling.

“These guys keepin’ their hands to themselves?” Alexander presses, looking for a reaction.

“Yeah, she’s only been dancing with the other girls.” Alexander turns his gaze on Jughead, face devoid of emotion.

“What about you?” He asks. “Have you been keeping your hands to yourself, Jones?” Jughead’s eyes flick to Alexander before darting back to Y/N.

“Of course,” he says like it’s stupid for Alexander to ask. Alexander chuckles lowly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“See, that’s just not right. Do you see those guys over there.” Alexander uses his middle finger to draw Jughead’s attention to three or so guys standing in the corner. Their gazes are locked on the writhing crowd of dances. “They’re looking at our girl. Do you know what those assholes are thinking, Jones? They’re thinking they want to grip her hips and pull her back against them. They want to touch our girl, Jones. Do you know what you have to do?” Jughead raises an eyebrow as a shadow passes over Alexander’s face.

Alexander looks down at Jughead and sends him a wicked grin. “You’ve got to go out there and show those assholes that she’s not their fucking fantasy. That’s our girl, Jones. Show them.” He grips Jughead’s arm and shoves him toward the crowd of dancers. Jughead looks back with a glare and Alexander matches his stare with one of his own.

Jughead shoves clumsily through the crowd, ducking his head until he finds her. Tendrils of hair are sticking to her face and there are beads of sweat rolling slowly down her temples. She looks beautiful with her skin all flushed from exertion. He can tell by the way she’s moving her shoulders that she’s ready to take another break. He throws a glance over his shoulder and meets Alexander’s unwavering stare.

It’s a test, he realizes with a sinking feeling in his gut. He swallows his awkwardness, his fear and places his hands above her waist. Y/N’s eyes flutter open, searching for the person who has put their hands on her and relaxes when she meets his eyes. She steps closer to him, loops an arm around his neck and begins to sway. He swallows hard, overwhelmed by the scent of her and the heat of her.

“You look tired,” he comments lightly. She hums in response, touching her sweat soaked forehead to his shoulder. “I think the dancing portion of our evening has come to a close.” She hums again, letting him guide her out of the crowd. They come out by the three guys who were watching her dance and Jughead fixes them with his fiercest glare, wrapping an arm possessively around her shoulders.

Mine, his stare seemed to say. The three guys hold their hands up in the universal sign of surrender and Jughead gets a small thrill out of their reaction. She says something, but he doesn’t quite make it out over the noise. She repeats herself, pointing to the patio door and he understands that she wants to go outside.

There are people out on the lawn standing in groups of two or three, heads bent low. She opts to stay on the deck slightly elevated above them. She picks out Alexander immediately and settles onto a chair that faces his group. Jughead settles into the seat across from her and they sit in silence together for a moment, just breathing.

She’s so spent that she starts to laugh. Jughead joins in for a brief moment and then she lets out a final sigh of laughter before sitting up in her chair. She’s feeling giddy, brave… and stupid. So she opens her mouth and starts to talk.

“You know, I wasn’t on the South Side for more than a day before my dad was picking me up and taking me to the Wyrm. Do you know why he was taking me there? To introduce me to your dad. Only FP already knew who I was because he saw me sneaking around with you at the drive-in.” She pauses, to see if Jughead will say anything, but he remains silent.

“I’m tired Jughead.” She tells him, shutting her eyes and tilting her head back.

“Okay, I’ll take you home then.” He starts to get up and she opens her eyes.

“No,” she says firmly. Something in her eyes convinces him to take a seat again. “I’m tired of biting my tongue and pretending and of all of this, okay? I’m so fucking tired, Jughead. You know I love you, I know you know. When are you going to figure out that you love me, too?”

“I love Betty,” Jughead says immediately, and Y/N can see a genuine anger in his expression. It’s got more heat to it than she was expecting, more of a typhoon than a blizzard. She smiles softly, trying to disarm his ire and it works.

“I know you do.” She tells him gently. “But you loved me first. You’re my first love, Jughead Jones and one day you’re going to wake up and realize that I was your first love, too.”

“Betty--” he starts again, his voice too loud for the quietness of the backyard.

“--is great, Jughead! She’s smart, driven, and so beautiful. She’s just not your first love. Everyone can see it except for you. So let me ask you this, did you ever tell her about me? About the drive-in? Or did you keep it to yourself?”

Jughead seethes silently and she tilts her head back to rest her eyes once more, feeling like her point was proven.

“Who does the jacket belong to?” He asks her quietly. It’s an old question, one she never answered when he asked. She doesn’t open her eyes, only sighs out her own question in return.

“Who was your first love?” Her entire body jolts when his chair scrapes noisily over the patio. Her wide eyes follow him as he stands over her.

“Get Alexander to take you home, I’m done with this.” As Jughead walks away she wonders if he means that he’s done with the Serpents or with her. Maybe it’s both. She looks across the lawn to find Alexander, and sees him in the middle of a transaction with a hooded figure. She already knows that she won’t ask him to take her home.

She can’t face the party again and so she circles around the house and begins a long walk. She knows that she should head back to The Man and Moms’ house, but her feet have other ideas. She walks by Pop’s, to the construction site where the drive-in used to be, until she is at the place where she used to live with her mother and her father.

It doesn’t look any different on the outside. She wonders if there is still a stain from when her mother attacked her. She wonders if her father sleeps in the bed he shared with her mother or if he sleeps on the couch. It amazes her that she can look at this place where she spent most of her life and feel nothing but a mild curiosity.

To her, home might always be nights at the drive-in with a boy with a weird hat and an appetite for… anything, really. She laughs a little under her breath and turns her back to the place where she grew up.

It’s a little after two in the morning by the time she reaches the street where The Man and Moms live. She knows it’s past curfew, but she doesn’t rush. Not even when she hears the sounds of a person approaching--the telltale click of a heel on the sidewalk. If she had cared enough, she could have avoided the hand gripping her wrist and pulling her around.

Y/N’s lips part in surprise, her eyes widening in panic, as she is faced with someone that she has actively been avoiding since moving into the neighbourhood.

“Emily, hi!” Y/N clears her throat when she hears her voice echoed back to her on the empty streets. Emily Arnold, the neighbour’s daughter, looks exhausted in a way that only a single mother with a hyperactive five year old can. Wisps of blonde hair have escaped from her high ponytail and frame her face in a way that draws attention to her high cheekbones and kohl lined green eyes. Judging by the heels, she is just getting home from work.

“I need to talk to Alex.” She says with no preamble.

“I haven’t seen him.”

“Cut the shit, Y/N.” Emily takes a breath here and releases Y/N’s wrist. “Look, this isn’t about his overdue child support payments, okay. When you see Alexander--and I know you will so don’t even try to lie about it--you need to tell him that I need my dad’s gun back like yesterday. He’s planning to go to the gun range this weekend and he won’t be happy when he sees that it’s missing.”

Y/N has lost all feeling in her extremities.

“Alexander has your father’s gun?” She echoes. Emily rolls her eyes.

“That’s what I just said. So, let him know, okay? I need it back or my father may really kill him this time. He doesn’t need a gun to do it. He’ll use his bare hands.” Emily begins to continue the walk home when Y/N calls out to her. Emily pauses long enough for Y/N to catch up but does not cease her walk home.

“When did you give him the gun?” Y/N asks softly so that her voice won’t carry.

“A couple of weeks ago. He said he needed it for business and that after he’d be caught up on his child support payments. And I believed him. Because I never learn.” Emily does not keep her voice down, and it echoes in the space between their houses. “Anyway, this is me. Tell him, okay? See ya around.”

Y/N watches Emily disappear into her house and then leans against her own door trying to catch her breath.

“Alexander, you fucking idiot.” She whispers to the night.

She turns around and opens the door quietly, hoping that no one had stayed up waiting for her. The couch and chair are both empty, the house silent. She pushes onto her toes and takes careful steps into the kitchen where a light over the oven has been left on. There on the counter is a note from Moms.

Client went into labour. Call Sean when you get home!

“Oops, forgot to call.” She says to the empty house.

She has just finished getting ready for bed when she hears the sound of a motorcycle coming down the street. She sits up on her bed, letting the blankets fall around her waist and listens hard, trying to pinpoint its destination.

Gravel crunches and she throws the blankets back and shuffles quickly to her bedroom window. She squints until she can make out the details of the motorcycle and then its rider. She turns too quickly and bangs her knee on the bed with a curse, pushing through the pain and rushing to the front door.

She is just pulling it open when he puts his foot on the first step. They both freeze where they stand, assessing one another. Him, helmet in hand wearing his leathers, and her, in a tank top and a pair of plaid boxers. He is the one to break the silence.

“A guy showing up at a girl’s house at three in the morning to make a confession… The only way this could be even more of a cliche is if it were raining right now.” Jughead says with a timid half smile.

Now it’s four in the mornin’ I’m just tryin’ to fix myself What the hell did I do? I’m the life of the party. It’s so hard to imagine who I’d be if I walked away Never know what it’s like to be the life of the party.

TAG LIST:

@jillisbetterthanyou; @overdressed-overbaked; @thatsadbreakfastclub; @ju-gg; @forsythe-pendleton-jones-iv; @redhairedoddity; @murderyoursoul; @tasteofswallowedwords; @velvetacex; @ri-verdale; @ourlazydetectivekitten; @wearelondonbound; @jackyfrost01; @rhyxn; @butterybra; @sour-kangaroo1998; @jj-trickster; @realfanssavingbands; @victoria-luise; @fionnfionn-love; @laa-rose; @thevioletmarkey; @jvghead-jones-iii;

[dangpankoozie]

Riverdale Seven Deadly Sins Theory

The second season of Riverdale has a serial killer vigilante who seems to be doing God's work. He has claimed to target what he deems sinners. This leads me to think that the while S1 was more of a personal Happy Murder Family kind of mystery, S2 has made Riverdale a microcosm for the bad, bad, bad things happening all around the world. As Betty said in her speech, Riverdale is no longer an innocent town and needs to face the music. The Black Hood seems to have taken this into his own hands, and is taking a rather biblical take to Betty's words. I believe he is targeting sinners who have committed one or more of the Seven Deadly Sins. Let's take a look at what these seven sins are.

[This information is from Wikipedia.] The seven sins are lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, pride.

In this theory, I'm considering the archaic interpretation of the seven sins, and tweaking them to connect to the world we live in, and hence, Riverdale. Lust according to Dante is the disordered love for individuals. It is also thought to be the least serious capital sin. In Riverdale's context, this can be interpreted as adultery, or things similar to that. Gluttony is an excessive desire for food that causes it to be withheld from the needy. My first thought was Jughead but that's just amateur. I think the gluttony can be applied to an excessive desire for anything that causes the needy to not get something. Greed is similar to lust and gluttony but pertains to material possession. I think this can be tweaked similar to gluttony and say that greed is the excessive desire for anything, but perhaps the needy are not affected. Sloth is an absence of interest or habitual inclination to exertion. Physically this refers to actually being lazy, but another definition is when good people become bystanders, evil is encouraged. Wrath is the rage that provokes and causes revenge and injury to spread. Anger that leads to violence may also be considered as a sin. Envy is when a person covets something they don't have, something that somebody else possesses. This leads them to desperation to get the thing. Pride is described as the dangerously corrupt selfishness, the putting of one's own desires before the needs of people. This is generally considered as the most important sin.

The Black Hood, I believe, is targeting those from lust to pride, in that order. Fred, the  "adulterer", fell into lust. Grundy was targeting young children, lots of young children. While she didn't withhold anything from the needy, she was a predator to Archie, the young boy and possibly Jason. Hence, she can represent either gluttony or greed. Take your pick. Midge and Moose, who were "gluttons" for the ridiculously-named Jingle Jangle, could represent Gluttony or Greed.

However, I don't think the Black Hood actually wants to kill. With the exception of Grundy, no one has died. I believe this is intentional. Why did Grundy die? Well, fan-service. None of us want her alive unless she goes to jail. (Sidenote: This is the first time fan-service has led to something good lmao.)

So, who else falls into the seven sins? Sherriff Keller can fall into Sloth, given how his inept PD failed to solve Jason's murderer and let "evil", in this case, Clifford Blossom and his drugs, roam free around Riverdale. The Black Hood will target Sherriff Keller's loved ones next. Kevin might fall back into the bad habit and go cruising again. I sure hope not, but according to my theory, this might happen. The stabbing vision might as well be a foreshadowing.

Wrath; anger that leads to violence. Archie and his Red Circle? If they step out of the line and actually use their weapons, then the Black Hood might come after one of them. Since Archie has already been "targeted" via Fred, I'm guessing Reggie might be the one who injures someone. If Reggie has a girlfriend (Josie?), or maybe Reggie himself. If a "war" between the Ghoulies and the Serpents breaks out, this can mean any of the younger Serpents. Possibly Sweet Pea or Toni. Maybe even FP, if the writers really want to be cruel. If Jughead does form a meaningful friendship with Toni and Sweet Pea, then maybe the Black Hood doesn’t have to go after FP to hurt him.

As for envy, I actually have no clue. It seems everyone in Riverdale doesn't covet anything material, but rather an ideal of being perfect. If this is the case, the Blossoms could fall into this. Penelope hushed up the truth of what happened in the barn (what is it, by the way?) to keep their failing reputation from failing some more. Cheryl could be targeted, or perhaps her mysterious love interest.

Pride. The most dangerous sin. This is the one I believe will happen in the season finale. A dangerously corrupt selfishness that puts one's wants over the needs of people. I wonder who turned their backs on people in need recently? I wonder who has carried out blatantly corrupt acts in S1? The most obvious answer is the Lodges, which makes a lot of sense because the recent episodes have given a lot of importance to their family dynamic and given us plenty of ammo to shoot our guesses at what exactly is Hiram and Hermione's deal. But I believe the actual person who has committed this sin is our beloved (not really) Mayor McCoy. She is the one who I believe will actually die out of all the people who were targeted.

However, one distant and unknown serial killer taking upon himself to be a vengeful vigilante gives the mystery a rather impersonal touch. The reveal of the who the "killer" is would be rather dry because they wouldn't have a personal motive. "I hate Riverdale's people for sinning" doesn't make for good TV. Also, if the seven sins are the full story, then the hero of our story would be the Black Hood and not the teenagers. That is why I think that beyond the predicted targets representing the sins, I think it is the central families that represent these sins. We have the Andrews, Lodges, Coopers, Joneses, Kellers, Blossoms and the McCoys. That is seven families. Archie, Cheryl, Betty, Jughead, Veronica, Kevin and Josie are the seven central teenagers in the show. The actors who play these characters are the ones who always go for interviews, even though Reggie has appeared more times than Josie. Hell, they are the ones on the poster.

So which family represents which sin? I believe that one family could possibly represent more than one sin. Andrews - lust, wrath Coopers -  wrath (?), pride Lodges - pride, greed, lust Joneses - sloth, envy (?) Blossoms - pride, greed Kellers - sloth McCoy - sloth, pride, gluttony

So, who exactly is the Black Hood? Well, he (assuming it is a he), was inspired by Betty's speech. And as she is the central teen to the mystery of Season 2, I'm guessing Alice's son is here. My theory is that Chic Cooper was sent to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy at birth because they were too ashamed to give him up for adoption. That does require quite a bit of paperwork, you know. I believe that the SOQM is the Radley of Riverdale. If you have not watched PLL, Radley was the institution where basically all of the antagonists of that show originated from. It was the watering hole of evil. I think SOQM is too.

Jason's secret was in SOQM, and the Coopers' is too. It would be extremely ironic (and iconic) if Polly was there at some point in time, as well as Chic. I'm not sure how exactly they are going to introduce Chic into the storyline, but it will definitely not be as Betty's older brother. At first, when they revealed that Hart Denton was going to play Chic, I was very confused. What was the point of revealing the casting and giving a face to someone who has the potential to be the villain of S2?

Now I realize it's a pretty clever move. Hart will probably not be introduced as Chic Cooper, but rather as another character, possibly as a gang member of either gang. Imagine the audience squirming throughout his entire introduction, every time he appears on screen, we know who he really is. He will not be introduced as the Black Hood or Chic, but as someone else, and the characters will have to experience the reveals that he is both as the audience screams in frustration from the other side of the fourth wall. If executed correctly, this could be pretty classic. Chic Cooper has the potential to become the Mona Vanderwaal of Riverdale.

Chic Cooper is the wronged son. He was pushed away from the Cooper's picture of perfection, and he probably spent his entire life aspiring to be a proper part of his seemingly perfect family. So when his (possibly beloved?) younger sister tells the whole town that his family and their picture-perfect town is anything less, he takes it upon himself to hurt the sinners who have yet to face their own music. He might believe that "doing this for Betty" is the one way to rebuild the bridges his parents burnt. This would effectively make Betty central to this season's mystery.

Thoughts?  

[folklore-musings]

Lights Out

Summary:  Betty's home alone, the power's out and she keeps hearing strange noises. She calls over Jughead to help her, but even he can't save her from the nightmares in her head.

Read on AO3 here

Thump. Betty’s heart skipped a beat. Again she’d heard the booming noise come from the attic above her room, the fourth time in the last ten minutes. The power was out due to the storm raging a war outside, her phone was dead, and she was home all alone. Her heart raced like the wings of a hummingbird as she tiptoed over to her window and shined a flashlight through the second story window of the Andrews’ house across the street.

Her boyfriend, Jughead was at the window in mere seconds, pulling a T-shirt over his head before forcing the window open. “What’s up Betty?” He called across the way. She could barely hear him over the sound of the rain drumming against the shingles on the roof.

Betty refused to speak, afraid whatever was in her attic might hear her. She waved her arms in a frenzy, motioning for him to come over. “Please?” she mouthed, pouting her lips in a way she knew he would never refuse, as if he could refuse her anyway.

“I’m on my way.” Jughead shouted, and he disappeared from the window.

She kept the flashlight gripped in her right hand as she waited out in the hall near the top of the steps for Jughead to come over. Her Nancy Drew instincts were dying to go up and explore the attic, but something in the back of her mind made her feel like she shouldn’t do it alone. As she waited, she heard the shrilling ring of the telephone in the den downstairs. All the hairs on her neck stood on end, the phone couldn’t ring when the power lines were dead.

Suddenly afraid to stay where she was, Betty skipped every other step as she ran down the staircase, speeding into the doorway of the den and shining the flashlight on the old fashioned telephone. The ring of the phone was so sharp Betty was shocked it didn’t tremble as it rang like it did in the cartoons on TV. It had to have been on its fifth ring when she took the few steps towards the phone, bracing herself as she picked it up.

“Hello?” She spoke, cursing the quiver in her voice as she did. “Hello?” She could hear the deep, exaggerated breaths of the person on the other line. Before she had a chance to ask who it could be, she heard the fatal sound of an empty dial tone. Betty gazed open wide at the phone as she set it back down on the receiver, just as the front door flew open and Jughead appeared, soaked to the bone from the rain pouring down outside.

“Betty!” Jughead called as she ran over to greet him, throwing herself into his arms. “Hey Betts,” he held her close quickly and pushed her away. “I don’t want to get you all wet. “ He shook his head. “Do you have anything I could change into?”

Betty pulled him along behind her as she led him upstairs to her parent’s room and showing him to Hal’s dresser. “Take whatever you need. You may have to tighten the drawstrings on the pants though.” She said. “Thanks for coming over despite the storm.”

“The rain won’t let up. I checked my phone and it says the power won’t be restored until morning.” Jughead said, pulling his rain soaked shirt from his hard, lean torso. Betty blushed as her eyes roved carefully over the smooth skin. Despite how strange the night had been, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to the half-naked boy standing beside her, pulling on her dad’s old flannel pajama pants. Jughead caught her eye and smirked, raising an eyebrow as he did. He reached out for Betty’s hand and pulled her towards him.

“Oooh!” Betty yelped, responding quickly as she melted into Jughead’s embrace. He kissed her tenderly, letting his tongue explore and tangle with her own, his lips soft against hers. She got lost in his touch, all thoughts of the strangeness that had occurred that evening seeping from her mind. She tiptoed as Jughead pulled her back, never breaking the kiss until they fell back onto her parent’s bed. “Jughead, we can’t do this here!” she squealed.

He tucked a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear and tickled his lips against the soft skin of her neck. “Why not?” He groaned as he dragged his teeth against her flesh. “Alice and Hal will never know.”

Betty could already feel his arousal against her thigh. The situation was way too weird. They shouldn’t be here doing this in her parent’s bedroom, with Jughead wearing her dad’s clothes.

Just as she was about to protest again she felt Jughead’s hand slide up her shirt. Behind his fingertips he left a wake of goose bumps on her skin. When his thumb found its way to her nipple Betty sighed. Jughead’s touch fogged up her mind and she was unable to think of anything except for how to get closer to him. “Kiss me,” she breathed, longing for his mouth on hers and his tongue on her lips.

Jughead’s kiss was electric and his touch left streaks of white hot lightning on her breast. Each tap of his thumb to the bud of her nipple pioneered a warm tingle between her legs. Betty arched her back and leaned up against him, knotting her fingers in the wet locks of his hair. “Ahhh, Betty,” Jughead moaned, tugging his lip from the grip her teeth had on it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She whispered back to him. Betty opened her eyes, hoping to be able to catch a glimpse of his eyes in the darkness. In the window behind Jughead she saw lightning flash in the sky outside and her breath hitched. “Jughead there’s someone in here.”

Betty could feel her blood pulsing in her veins and it wasn’t just because Jughead’s hand was between her legs, his fingers delving into the wetness of her center. Jughead chuckled and kissed her lips once more. “No one’s here but us Betty, calm down.” He traced his lips over her chin and across her jaw down to her neck. “It’s just me and you, baby.”

Betty closed her eyes and let his soothing words wash over her. She assumed her mind must have fabricated the shadow near the window. After all it was intensely dark except for the flash of light outside. It was just the storm, playing with her mind.

She raked her hands up and down the lean muscles of his back, letting her nails dig into his skin when he inserted a finger inside her. “Mmmm… yeah…” she breathed, rolling her hips into his hand while his thumb swirled circles around her clit. Jughead pumped his fingers faster and Betty dug her nails in deeper to his skin.

Jughead was just about to make her come when the phone rang.

“What the fuck was that?” Jughead stopped his fingers and pulled his hand out from beneath her pajama bottoms. They knocked heads in a haste to sit up, hopping off the bed simultaneously.

“It’s the phone in the den. You know that old one my dad loves.” Betty’s voice was soft. She could barely her herself speak over the beating of her heart in her eardrums.

“Betty, how is it ringing?”

The quiver in her voice was back. The phone was on its seventh ring – just about the time when it goes to voicemail. “I don’t know Jughead. It was ringing right before you got here too. On the other line it was no one, just some creepy deep breathing.” Consciously Betty continued to count the shrill, electrifying rings. It was onto the tenth ring now with no sign of the answering machine cutting in.

“Betts, I don’t think it’s going to stop unless we answer it.”

She groaned and grabbed the flashlight from where she’d left in on the dresser. Grabbing Jughead’s hand Betty lead him out into the hall towards the landing. Whatever was going on, she didn’t like it. Betty liked to believe she wasn’t afraid of much, but that evening she was terrified out of her wits. “Everything that’s happening tonight sounds like its straight out of a horror film. Power’s out, parents aren’t home, strange noises in the attic and an endless phone ringing. Did you put Archie up to this? To freak me out?” Betty asked as she shuffled down the stairs. Once back in the den she reached for the phone once more. “Hello? Who is this?” She heard another thump, but it’d come from through the phone, not the attic this time. She thrust the phone at Jughead. “Listen.” She mouthed.

Jughead held the phone up to his ear and knit his eyebrows together. “Betty, I don’t hear anything.”

Betty grabbed the phone and pressed it to her temple, listening to the thumps as they accelerated, mimicking the beating of her heart. She passed the phone back to Jughead. “Don’t you hear the thumping?”

He shook his head. “I swear I hear nothing. I’m going to hang up.” Jughead placed the phone back down with trembling hands. Betty could still hear the thumping, only now it was coming from within the room, getting louder with every beat.

“Make it stop Jughead. Make it stop.” There were tears in her eyes. Betty dropped the flashlight and forced her hands over her ears, desperately trying to drown out the sound but to no avail. As soon as the flashlight hit the ground the light went out. “Please Jughead.” She leaned back against the desk where the phone sat and shivered uncontrollably. She was so cold.

“Make what stop? Betty what is going on? You’re freaking me out!” Jughead cupped Betty’s face in his hands, wiping away the tears that streamed down her cheeks. The darkness in the room swallowed them. Betty couldn’t see two inches in front of her, and after everything that had been happening, she didn’t want to.

“The thumping! Make it stop. It won’t quit.”

She could feel Jughead’s breath on her lips. “Betty, there is no thumping. It must be your imagination.” He said, moving his hands from her face to her shoulders, hoping to calm her down.

“It’s not my imagination! Was the phone ringing just in my head too? No. Something’s wrong Jughead.”

The phone started to ring again. Startled, Jughead jumped back as Betty moved to unplug the phone. She threw it against the wall. It continued to ring, never skipping a beat. The thumping was gone and there was nothing except the chilling shrill of the phone.

“Jughead? Jughead answer it.” Betty pleaded with him in the darkness. She didn’t want the thumping to return. She waited for the phone to stop but it didn’t. “Jughead where are you?” He didn’t respond as the phone continued on. It was on its thirteenth ring. “Juggie?” Betty whispered, stepping forward and reaching out, hoping to touch him. She stopped when she felt the cord of the phone wrap around her neck. Betty screamed and she cried as she attempted to wriggle herself free.

The ringing didn’t stop until everything else did. Betty could no longer scream, she could no longer cry, she could no longer breathe. It was over and everything, even Jughead, was gone.

[minky-beta]

Riverdale Song Preference:  The Other Side- Jason Derulo

A/N: I've always loved this song tbh, ever since I heard it. I've been wanting to write a songfic about this for awhile, but couldn't think of the characters. Since I'm currently obsessed with Riverdale, it seemed like a match made in heaven. 

I hope you all really like this imagine!!! 

Character: Archie Andrews, Veronica Lodge, Reggie Mantle, Cheryl Blossom, Betty Cooper, and Jughead Jones

Warnings: Implied NSFW in a few of them

Archie Andrews

In the beginning I never thought it would be you When we were chilling Smiling in the photo booth But we got closer (yeah) Soon you were eating off my spoon You're coming over And we would talk all afternoon

What could you say? Archie Andrews was an angel. The first time you guys talked had been after your boyfriend broke up with you at a party, and you had tried to drink away the tears, only to end up with you not having anything holding you back from sobbing on the floor. Even in your hazy recollection, you knew Archie pulled you up so you were standing, gave you a bottle of water, and comforted you instead of partying off the adrenaline from his football win. 

The next time at school, you had thanked him, and before you knew it, you considered him one of your best friends. You almost always helped each other study. He would ask you for feedback on his songs. And Fred ended up just assuming you'd eat dinner at his house a lot of the time. 

You had lost track of how many nights you guys just talked over the phone, about everything from football to your futures. Or argued about whether or not a movie villain was justified. Or went through albums with nothing but silence, only breaking it for comments like "Damn, this song sucks" and "I fucking love this" 

Did you ever think that any of that would lead to you and him making out on his bed? Never. Archie was an angel and your best friend; you couldn't imagine him as more than that. You could count on your hands the amount of times you considered you two being more than friends with an open mind. Yeah, he was nice, funny, smart, selfless, and knew how to cheer you up no matter what, but you two wouldn't be together. 

You didn't count on him signing a love song out of the blue. You didn't count on him singing it while staring you in the eye (which was normal, but this time felt made your breath hitch), before they drifted to your lips. You didn't count on these lyrics making your body buzz as it turned into mush. You didn't count on Archie dropping his guitar, pulling you closer, and pressing his lips against yours, both roughly and sweetly at the same time, as soon as he finished singing the last syllable. You didn't count on sighing against him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and hovering above him as the two of you kissed. And you knew you wouldn't forget the heat his hands pushed onto you as they held your back. Or the hums that would escape his mouth. Or just how fucking soft his mouth was (that wasn't fair). 

So now you had to count that in the equation.

Veronica Lodge

Tonight we’ll just get drunk Disturb the peace Find your hands all over me And then you bite your lip Whisper and say, “We’re going all the way.” You would be a liar if you said Veronica Lodge wasn't hot. If someone knew her or saw her, they knew it. You definitely knew she was hot, but you never considered doing anything about it. You just considered her as an attractive friend because there was nothing that pushed you to consider her otherwise. That was until the both of you stumbled back from the club breathless and sweaty, while you were thanking the universe that your parents were out of the house. She giggled against you as you tried to help her stand up straight, while she stumbled in the heels that you both knew she had been wearing too long. "They hurt," she pouted with a large smile. Veronica grabbed your arm as she kicked them off. She let out a relieved sigh as she stepped onto the floor barefoot. 

"Do you feel liberated?" you asked as you walked over to your couch and sat down. 

She nodded and collapsed on the couch next to you. "Very." The both of you laughed loudly, thankful that no one was around to judge your questionable drunk humors. 

You both sat there, panting from the adrenaline and dopamine still in your system. You turned your head to the side, to face her, about to tell Veronica that the club was cool only to freeze. Veronica was staring at you that you didn't recognize. Her eyes were dark and hooded, desperate and lust shining in them. 

You liked being Veronica's friend, hell you loved it. Maybe it was the fact that you were tipsy, or that you felt lightheaded from dancing for hours, but you pushed yourself closer as Veronica leaned in. Your face felt like it was on fire when your lips meant, and electricity pulsed through you when she cupped your face. After a few moments, you both pulled away. 

"I didn't mean for that to happen," you whispered. 

Veronica pressed her lips together, while her eyes flashed from your lips to your eyes. "Me neither." 

"Do you want to stop? We can," you said. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from voicing Even though I really don't want to. 

She shook her head and pulled your face closer. You gasped before your lips meant. "Hell no," she whispered in between kisses as her hands explored you. You loved being Veronica's friend. 

But this didn't seem like a loss. 

Reggie Mantle

Tonight Take me to the other side Sparks fly like the Fourth of July Just take me to the other side I see that sexy look in your eyes And I know we ain’t friends anymore If we walk down this road We’ll be lovers for sure So tonight kiss me like it’s do or die And take me to the other side Things had been different between you and Reggie lately. After knowing each other for years, this didn't happen often. You and Reggie were almost always transparent with each other. You didn't know what could be making him act different, or if it was you who was acting differently. And after texting him countless times for a few days with no response, you didn't what to do. 

To get over this, you decided to try to let loose when Cheryl texted you about a party at Jughead's. When you realized Reggie was there, you tried your best to avoid any contact with him. That would bring up a lot of stuff that you just couldn't deal with at the moment. 

Archie tapped your shoulder while you were dancing, and you raised an eyebrow. "Reggie's looking for you," he shouted over the music. "Tell him to screw off," you said back. You had to bite your lip to stop the large smile when Archie's eyes widened and he struggled for words. "Fine Archibald, tell him he should've text me. He'll know it means the same thing," you said, before going back to dancing. Archie tried to get your attention, but you shook him off. 

You had lost track of time as one of your favorite songs came on. It was loud enough to drown out all thoughts of Reggie and had the beats to let you move carelessly. 

You tensed up when you felt hands gently grab your hips. You glanced over your shoulder and relaxed when you recognized Reggie. You turned around in his arms and raised your eyebrows. "Well?" 

"We need to talk," he muttered into your ear.  

You shook your head. "I'm not leaving this dance floor!" 

He rolled his eyes as he watched you continue dancing. Reggie put one hand on your arm and the other on your waist before he pulled you closer. You clenched your jaw to freeze the gasp that wanted to escape as your chest went up against his. His arm slid around your waist as he began to move along to the music with you. "Then let's talk here," he whispered, and you definitely noticed how his voice had dropped a little. And it definitely did not make your body warm up. 

Fuck. Suddenly, all your thoughts were consumed with him. The cologne that he always wore but suddenly stung your nose. The way his muscles tensed up as he held you close. The way his eyes glazed over your figure with an emotion that you'd never seen on him. 

"Why'd you ignore me?" you said, after finally being sure your voice wouldn't be shaking. 

He leaned his head closer, and you could feel his breath against your mouth. "I was working through some stuff. I'm sorry, really," 

"What were you working through?" you gasped. 

"Why I'm suddenly desperate to know what it's like to kiss you." He pulled you closer, so that neither of you could have much movement. "What it's like to hold you." 

You gulped. "That it?" 

He smirked before he finally closed the gap between the two of you. You didn't know if your gasp was from surprise or relief that he finally kissed you, and you didn't really care. One of his hands traveled to your jaw, before moving backwards and playing with your hair. After what felt like forever, he pulled away from you, while you panted. 

Reggie leaned down again and put his mouth next to your ear. "I also want to know what it's like to hear you say my name over and over again as I push you over the edge" He emphasized his words as his lips moved over your neck, focusing on your sweet spot (you were grateful you had been drunk enough during your last truth or dare to admit it) Shivers ran down your spine as your panted. You felt tense and like jelly at the same time. Finally, you gulped and smirked at him, giving him a quick kiss. "What if I want that too?" 

"I'd say my house is empty," Reggie groaned at the end as your hand played with his belt.

"Lead the way, Mantle," you whispered. He smiled at you and pressed his lips against yours before he grabbed your hand and led you out the party. 

Cheryl Blossom

This could be perfect (yeah) But we won’t know unless we try (try) I know you’re nervous So just sit back and let me drive Cheryl couldn't even remember the last time she trusted someone besides her brother. Wait, she could, it was in kindergarten when she let a friend borrow her toy doll, then got it back ripped. 

But you, you slipped past every defensive wall she had spent years putting up. You smiled your way into her deepest secrets, some she had never told Jason. The glint in your eyes froze her when she tried to push you away, instead making her pull you closer. 

She didn't trust you because she wanted to trust you. She trusted you because she honestly didn't know how she couldn't. 

After a while, she accepted that, and you became her closest friend. She ranted to you, defended you, joked with you, and opened up to you. Sleepovers with her had become a regular occurrence, especially when her parents were out of the house. It was fall break, and they had decided it was better to take the fall trip without their daughter, and Cheryl wasn't hurt the way she had been before because it meant that she could have you over for days.  

You two were lying in her bed talking, with one of her favorite songs in the background. Your voices had drifted off to whispers, before it was just you speaking as you stared up at the ceiling. You were telling her a story about a kid in your English class that you had been having arguments with lately. "What do you think Cher?" Silence. "Cher?" You turned your head to the side to see her staring at you. "Are you alri-" 

Before you could think or say anything, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against yours. She pulled herself away from you just as fast as she had kissed you. You blinked for a few moments as you stared at each other. "Did you just kiss me?" you whispered. 

Cheryl's mouth stayed open, before she resigned and just nodded. Her skin was paler than usual, and her eyes were scared as they analyzed your every move. 

You gulped and tried to hide your disappointment. "If you regret it," you said slowly, "We can just act like it never happened. You don't have to feel that way about me, Cheryl," 

She shut her eyes and clenched her jaw before sighing. She sat up and took deep breaths. "I do; I feel that way about you," she groaned, "I think about you all the time. When I see people hitting on you, I want to rip them apart. When you're sad, I want to help you until you forget what crying feels like. When you were talking right now, all I could think about was how the sun hit you perfectly and made you look more beautiful than usual, which is already god-like and-" You sat up and kissed her, cupping her face. She relaxed against you and clenched onto your shirt, as if to make sure you were actually there. "I feel the same, Cher," you whispered, "I feel that way and so much more," 

"I'm scared. I've never done this. I've never let someone in like this. I've never trusted anyone," she admitted, "I'm scared," 

You rested your forehead against hers. "You don't have to tell me everything right now. You can let me in, piece by piece, because I'm going to be there for all of it." She bit her lip and glanced down. You grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Please just give me- us- a chance," you whispered, "I won't hurt you," 

"I don't know how to do this." 

"Then let me try," you said, "We'll try together," She smiled at you before pressing her lips against yours, finally letting the warmth travel across both of you. 

It felt like home.

Betty Cooper

Tonight we’ll just get drunk Disturb the peace Let your love crash into me And then you bite your lip Whisper and say, “We’re going all the way.” Betty was supposed to be the good girl, while you, her friend, knew that there was so much more to her than that, that still rang in your mind when you pictured her. 

You definitely didn't picture her sneaking in booze when you went over to her house to study. "What about your Mom? She'd freak if she saw this," you laughed as she locked the door. 

"Her and my Dad are off on a business retreat for the paper," she gloated as she sat down with you on her bed. 

You rolled your eyes as you took the cup of alcohol and watched her read the English quotes from the homework in posh accents, already a little tipsy. You wondered if she was that much of a lightweight or if she had taken a few sips before you got there. 

The both of you stopped halfway through the big bottle, not wanting too get too wasted. Betty dropped her ponytail and inhibitions at the same time as the two of you gave drunk (and sometimes crass) descriptions of the people in Riverdale. 

She shut her books before she walked over to her closet and went through it. "Ya know, I don't know if these are my style or my Mom's," she sighed. 

"Cooper," you laughed, "You just snuck in alcohol literally the night your Mom left. If you really had a different style, you'd be the kind of kid who changes clothes as soon as they got to school," 

She rolled her eyes with a wide smile that told you she wasn't really mad. Betty sat down on her bed, next to where you were laying. "Really?" 

You raised yourself up onto your elbows. "I know it. If you're how I think you are, then you wouldn't hesitate to get clothes you actually love," 

You definitely didn't picture her biting her lip at you, although you did have to say that sight was great. Or her leaning down and capturing your lips. You groaned against as you raised one of your hands to run it through her hair. She sighed against you as she pushed you farther into the mattress, before adjusting herself so that she was straddling you. 

Her tongue pressed against your lips, and you immediately obliged, squeezing her hip tighter. Betty pressed herself against you, and your hands trailed down to her thighs, squeezing them gently. 

You pulled away from her and panted. "A-Are you sure? I don't want to pressu-”

"You're not," she promised. 

You pressed your lips together. "It's not like you to-" 

"Remember I'm not the good girl," she whispered with a low voice, "I want you; I want this," She bit her bottom lip, before you pulled her down to meet her lips again. 

You definitely didn't picture this, but you weren't going to complain.

Jughead Jones

(Whoa) Take me to the other side (Whoa) And take me to the other side (Whoa) Kiss me like it’s do or die (Whoa) And take me to the other side

When Jughead invited you to join him for the last night at the drive-in, you had clear expectations. He was probably going to be pretty emotional but not admit it for one second, which meant a lot of sarcastic quips. If he mentioned staying at the drive-in, you would offer him to sneak into your room to stay on your floor for the next few days (it wasn't ideal, but it meant a roof over his head). 

You didn't expect for him to be silent for the entire movie. You didn't expect him to kiss you as soon as the credits rolled. You didn't expect to hum against him and return the kisses just as feverish. His hands were already running across your skin, up and down your arms and back. Jughead pulled you closer, before biting your bottom lip and pulling away. "Do you want to go to the back?" he panted. 

He was giving you a way out. He wouldn't question you if you did, probably wouldn't mention it to anybody. But his eyes that dark was hot, so was his voice when it was that deep. And your entire body was buzzing with excitement. "Yeah," you said. He smirked at you before he lead you into the back, where he actually stayed. 

You didn't expect for him to push you up against the wall as he left open-mouthed kisses up and down your jaw, while you fumbled with his belt. This was going to change things. You didn't know how, but they would. As he tugged shirt off and dragged his hands under the hem of your shirt, you couldn't find it in you to care.

[jerepars]

Heartthrob Story Notes

Hyperlinks appear in blue (underlined on mobile). The story is here.

I wrote this after watching Riverdale all the way through three times (Season 2 doesn't premiere until October 2017 and Season 1 only has 13 episodes). I've definitely overanalyzed the charactsuers, their key moments, their relationships. Everything.

I've loved TV shows before, loved pairings on TV shows before, but I don't think I've ever been so emotionally invested as I am in Bughead to the point where I wanted to write something. I've only ever been inspired to write by music and hockey, really.

So. In my overanalysis of the show and the situations the characters have been put through, it dawned on me that Archie isn't actually the heartthrob he's presented as. Sure, he's an All-American jock with a pretty smile and nice abs. But when you peel back all the layers, see what his problems are, see his cluelessness about basically everything, you're left with what he really is--in my opinion--just a fuckboy.

And so emerges the true heartthrob of Riverdale, Jughead Jones. He's literally in all of the best scences (exhibits: fighting with Betty, calling his mom, when he goes to see FP). He's pretentious but smart. He's the emo loner kid stealing the audience's hearts, stealing Betty's heart.

Damn this show for their perfect portrayal of Bughead. Watching it feels so real, what it really felt like to be a teenager.

Wanting so badly for Bughead to be endgame and believing Jughead is the real heartthrob of Riverdale, I came up with this.

I sat thinking for a long time that I don't really have any good original ideas because wow, I looked, and the Bughead shippers have it covered really well. When it was about to be Father's Day, while re-watching Bughead clips for the umpteenth time, I sighed at something adorable and audibly said "aw, Juggie".

That became it, the story. That's the tl;dr version of the story, really, just "Juggie!"

When I started writing I just intended for it to be some light fluff, Betty and Jughead in the future, as parents, and instead of their kid calling him her dad for the first time, she calls him what everyone else that loves him calls him. I think it got a little darker as I went along, adding in the backstory. I think that makes sense because it's not actually a light show, despite being a "teen drama" on The CW.

As per usual with my story notes, there is an awful lot of overexplaining below. I've linked a lot of clips from the show which may or may not be spoilers. I think this drabble still makes sense if you've never seen Riverdale or if you don't care to, but they're there if you so choose.

These mornings were tough. Waking up at the crack of dawn to the sound of a crying baby through the baby monitor. Not that these kind of mornings were new per se - there had been a period of time, during his sophomore year of high school when he set his alarm for this time, when he had been living in a tiny closet at Riverdale High School. Somehow that had been a better alternative than staying in the trailer park with his usually absent alcoholic father.

The first paragraph is a reference to the opening scene of 1x07 (0:00 to 1:10), where Jughead wakes up from a dream in the closet at the high school, where he's been living, and he has to explain himself when Archie catches him.

Given the so-called destiny he’d believed his two best friends were meant to have, Jughead hadn’t planned on falling in love with Betty Cooper. He’d always thought his destiny was to remain the weird loner kid, always on the outs. It took until they were sophomores in high school for Jughead to realize Betty was it – the light at the end of the tunnel waiting to envelope him and pull him out of the darkness. And as it turned out, where darkness and light were concerned, they evened each other out. Facing her own demons, her own darkness, Jughead had been her spot of light seeping through.

It was a delicate balance between the two of them until they got out of Riverdale. Just as quickly as he'd put on the leather Southside Serpents jacket, she'd made him vow it was only temporary, to protect himself and to protect them. She made him take an oath that one day when he took it off, it would be for good and he would never put it back on again. Betty had made him promise the civil war in Riverdale wouldn't be the nooses around their necks, and hand in hand, they would make it out of their devil town not just to live, but to thrive.

I was listening to the Bright Eyes cover of "Devil Town" a lot while I was writing backstory about Jughead's past and their town, Riverdale. In the same way that the narrative talks about the delicate balance of light and dark and of Betty and Jughead, I like the way the song sounds light but is talking about darkness.

And, come on, how could I not give The Jacket a shout out?

Years later, on the day he married Betty, at the wedding reception, while giving the maid of honor’s speech, Veronica had quipped about the irony of it all. Jughead had gone from the brooding Holden Caulfield-esque loner outsider to the heartthrob of his own novel, because he was the one who ended up marrying the beautiful blonde cheerleader to have the happily ever after with.

In 1x07, again, Veronica actually refers to Jughead as Riverdale's version of Holden Caulfield (1:11 to 3:15) after a "Scooby Gang" meeting where Jughead puts his arm around Betty and the group doesn't know about them yet.

He had written a novel. It had been about Jason Blossom’s murder and its impact on Riverdale. But the narrative was from Jughead’s perspective. He was a constant in the book’s pages because of his connection to all those involved, most notably FP, his father. When the book sold well, even Hollywood had come knocking on his publisher’s door. They’d wanted the film rights to the novel, they wanted to sensationalize the most terrible thing to happen in Riverdale, to tell the story of his teenage angst. They’d even dropped the name of the actor who they would target to play his own ‘character’—a former Disney star with a sharp jaw, slightly nasal voice, and gigantic social media following.

Jughead never did sign on the dotted line for the project but it was true that he was a living, breathing cliché of the American Dream, and he loved it. He’d grown up to be the heartthrob of his own life. He was reminded of that every time Betty smiled at him, and now, every time Sadie did, too.

Last sentence of the first paragraph: that's just me, breaking the fourth wall, in a sense because um, the description is literally Cole Sprouse, who plays Jughead. I did this to amuse myself more than anything else, really. Maybe I think his voice is a little nasal. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. I think it suits him. Alluding all the way back to the Archie comics, I think it suits Jughead's character, too.

Despite Jughead's non-conformist attitude as a teenager, I feel like it's appropriate for him to accept the American Dream, be proud to have it even, in this adult version of him. In 1x04, when he's whining about the Twilight Drive-In closing one of the first things he mentions is "a nail in the coffin of [...] the American Dream," and he's upset something good he's held on to is being taken away. I think part of the reason Jughead becomes isolated and non-conformist and a self-proclaimed loner is not because he doesn't want the American Dream, but because he's always thought someone in his shoes can't ever have that.

He caught her arm before she could saunter off and pulled her into his lap. He kissed her on the mouth hard, one hand ghosting up under the shirt she was wearing to graze at the bare skin of her upper thigh and one hand cupping the back of her neck. He sighed, content, and for a moment was transported back to a moment—their first moment—in her childhood bedroom surrounded by floral wallpaper.

There were times when he still felt like he did back then, crawling through her window to comfort her after they’d found Polly at The Sisters of Quiet Mercy, while also nervous, at a loss for words because he wanted to kiss her so badly, to let her know what the connection they’d forged while investigating Jason’s murder meant to him.

Basically just a reference to everything Bughead in 1x06 leading up to their first kiss in Betty's floral bedroom. Juggie called it their moment, so I called it their moment.

“Nearly everyone in my life who loves me has called me ‘Juggie’ at one point or another,” Jughead reminded her. “What’s one more?”

Cereal forgotten, Betty moved her hand under her chin, thinking about his statement. He was right. She called him that. Archie called him that. Jellybean called him that. It was a short list, but Betty knew it was the only list that mattered to Jughead.

I think the first time he's called "Juggie" on the show is actually in 1x03 when Betty recruits him for the school paper. Archie calls him that later on. They're both sort of wrong about only the shortlisted people calling him this, because in the opening scence of 1x13, Pop Tate calls him Juggie as he slides over the coffee (1:01 to 1:06; WARNING: major spoilers in this clip!).

Oh, did you think I was kidding about how thoroughly I've watched this show? No, no. I'm neurotic.

I still think it's a valid point though. Jughead doesn't like very many people so it makes sense that very few would ever get so close to him to call him Juggie.

“Who's your daddy?” Jughead made a face and kicked Betty lightly under the table. “Please never say that again, Betts. It's creepy.”

I couldn't write this and not make reference to the whole "daddy" war thing the Riverdale cast had going on. Obviously.

Also, I am trash and I hate myself.

He gave her that look, the one he saved just for her. The look that meant he loved her completely, entirely, with everything he had. She'd seen that look before, when they'd told each other for the first time they loved each other, and on their wedding day, and when Sadie was born.

First, he takes the beanie off. Then the look Jughead gives Betty when he tells her he loves her (0:53). Then the look Jughead gives her when she tells him she loves him (1:04). That's the look. Oh, my heartstrings.

I wrote this listening to Tegan and Sara's Heartthrob and Paramore's After Laughter and The Gaslight Anthem's American Slang. At the end of it all, what it really is, is a love letter to Bughead, I think. It's an exercise in writing that I hope is a launching pad that gets me back to hockey stories.

Doing this all weekend was fun. It immediately took me back to how consumed I get when I am writing. I don't have writer's block, because I never do. I don't have time to write.

I want to make time to write.

We'll see.