#no veronica option because too many songs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hersweetrevenge · 1 year ago

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ahhh this is such an interesting chapter, in so many ways !! we all know i'm not an expert, so bare with me while i botch this explanation, but the way the structure really works for the pacing and tone in a pretty unusual way is blowing my mind a little bit 🤯💗 the way we start with corey and his thoughts and feelings and perspective, then there's this build up in tension and narratively as the perspective is switched to be more reader-centric. even though corey isn't even there for the later half of this chapter, his presence feels so overbearing. there's this weird sort of discomfort that comes from so many aspects of your physical work (like the actual words on the page) and the ideas that you're constantly weaving through this story !! i'm so deeply in awe of you 💗

They all feel wrong, everything feels wrong.

these little mentions of corey's developing taste and personality and interests soothe me so much. and reader giving him the option to be the car dj, where every song is his choice from his collection/playlist, ahhh !! 💗 but then this first taste of his nervous, it runs right through this chapter and is set up so well. i love thinking about our perspective vs. the in-universe perspective. we know exactly why he's so nervous, but in-universe it's so interesting to think about how people perceive him, how his anxiety plays to people who have no idea.

also, this sentence alone works so well !! maybe the repetition? but just the sense of how overwhelmingly big everything feels for him. corey can't have just a "regular" bout of anxiety, it always goes to the upmost extremes for him. he's just going to a party, but everything is terrible.

He feels pathetic, but he misses you when you’re in the next room.

💔 nooo !! but you're so right. it's the abandonment issues, it's the obsessive personality. i love these details so much where you can see it as just someone who is really, really lonely (or has been really lonely and still isn't used to company, who expects people to leave as soon as they arrive) or as some major red flags.

He fights the urge to ask you how many people will be there, a third time. You haven’t given him an answer he can work with... How many people is everybody? On top of the everybody already there.

(i see you 👀 lol) man he's so real for this, this is just anxiety💔 wanted murderer or not lol. i totally feel that corey gets stuck in his little echo chamber, he can't let go of a certain thought -- the need to know how many people will be there, in this case -- but knows he can't keep asking or it'll be suspicious, which just further reinforces his need to know the answer because he needs to know how to not be more suspicious. poor thing.

He knows he sticks out like a sore thumb among all these cool people... He should’ve asked you to pick his outfit or something.

noo !! baby, you're so cool, i promise !! 💔💗 you always get these little character moments so right for him, the way this is really a pretty reasonable thing to be worried about but seems so insignificant to the rest of corey's worries. i feel like it's something that actually comes up a lot for him because he never got the right kind of socialisation, like he plays at being a real person but doesn't feel like one.

ohh but him wishing reader had just picked his clothes for him 💀 something something, stockholm syndrome, boundaries, seeking familiar behaviours even if it's unhealthy, reverting to past versions of himself when things get too stressful. or maybe he doesn't even realise the connection? maybe it feels far enough removed that this time it'd be okay.

Corey wouldn’t trust the bottle she holds out to him if she hadn’t popped the cap right in front of him, but now that she’s here, he does feel a small sense of relief.

!! oh this is brilliant !! the way he's developed such a complex about it, i knew (lies, i thought lol) he'd latch onto the idea of veronica purposely sabotaging him. and even then, when he's so untrusting of her, she's familiar enough that he wants her there.

For some reason Daddy is the one thing from his past Corey tells you about without hesitation

i love, love, love how you write corey thinking about his dad !! the same way that joan will always be momma in his mind, wally is always daddy.

and i love the idea of his dad being this safe point of reference where it is personal, he is absolutely telling the truth when he tells reader something about him, but it's also in that sort of ambiguous space of him never really having known him. maybe it doesn't feel so difficult to talk about when the person he's talking about is half-imagined.

Do they all have to fucking hug you? He feels a little better when you give your chair up to a new addition to the circle and perch on his knees instead, draping an arm around his shoulders and fluffing his hair.

it's not hot that he's so jealous, it's not hot that he's so jealous, it's not hot that he's so jealous it's so fucking hot that he's so jealous 🥵😈 you're right for writing him so jealous, but not in the classic(?) way. he's so scared of losing you, he's so desperate for love and affection that it morphs into this anger of like, why is he always so wanting? why won't the universe just let him have something without having to compete all the time?. he doesn't necessarily want to control you, but things would be so much easier if he could control situations you are in.

They aren’t using enough kindling, and it isn’t getting enough airflow when they set the big log on top, so they just keep snuffing out the whole thing.

corey's internal mean streak 😈 i love when he knows that he knows what he's talking about !! i love when he has even the slightest bit of confidence in his own abilities. how really he knows he could help but it's more than he could bare when he doesn't know the response.

The last time Momma slapped him she didn’t leave a mark, but other times she had. Fucking Doug had knocked the air out of his lungs on the Allen’s front lawn.

commence the joan cunningham hate club meeting. but seriously, i love this detail, joan's specific brand of violence and affection is complex and its so important to recognise that duality. it was never just violence.

i'm also so very intrigued by the way in which violence has weaved its way through corey's life. it starts in insidious but (unfortunately) mundane ways: his momma hitting him, his parents fighting. and then the more intense instances simply stem from that beginning: his automatically violent reaction to jeremy's prank, his own accidental violent crime, the police brutality, his want to turn the welding torch on other nonspecific parts of his life, the casual violence from people who know that no one will give them shit for fucking with the local kid killer, and finally his own intentional violent crimes. tbh, i've never agreed with hcs that suggest he gets beaten up on the reg. just in the street. i think his ostracization is a lot more psychological (or verbal) than that. not that i don't think he's never been shoved around before, but i doubt it happens frequently. but it doesn't need to, not in that way anyhow. seeds of violence have been planted from the very beginning and it culminated in the worst possible breakdown.

where was i going with that? idk, but corey's rationalisation of how he killed the people that abused him first (and he was right to do it) reflects that cycle that in some ways he is trying to break, but also doesn't really know any other way. he knows what happened to him was bad, but it's been so watered down and no one else seemed to care (because ignorance can seem so very uncaring) that it's difficult for even corey to reckon with. why he weighs up what he did vs the song, whether he was really justified. but he knows he did what he had to, just like the protagonists in that song...

If he was all you had then it would be fair.

literally just beat me to death next time lol 😭💔💗 this line is my new epitaph. this is it !! this is everything, boiled down into one sentence. it's not fair that corey has to share you, that he isn't enough when you're enough for him !! i will not go on another spiel about how the way he learnt love was very dysfunctional, because you already know what i'll say lol, but i'm obsessed with how he views relationship dynamics. how he never feels wanted or important or loved enough if there are other people in the way. how he really doesn't have anything (or anyone) else but you but that is enough for him, but only if it's the same for you.

He is the king of the long smoke break. His face is so expressive, sometimes you feel like you’re eavesdropping on his thoughts, but if you’re ever left wondering what kind of mood he’s in, all you have to do is time his absence.

the switch in perspective here is soooo well done !! it's the perfect moment -- leaving corey on a very tense, unstable moment where we do have some uncertainty about him -- to go to reader and let corey's thoughts simmer in us as her concern grows and radiates this really restless energy.

ohh that is such a good phrase, eavesdropping on his thoughts via his facial expressions !! it's so real, and i can actually imagine feeling bad about it, with how guarded corey is, it feels wrong to be able to read him so easily. but i love how reader learns these habits, knows when he'll be gone for a while and when he'll be back soon. it's a really cool contrast between corey's clinginess and reader's understanding of when he needs to be alone.

“Looking for Corey? You haven’t found him yet?” “No! I keep getting sucked into conversations and shit. Have you seen him?” You don’t like the desperate edge in your voice.

this whole movement -- from reader starting her search through to finding rose in the laundry room -- is so, so, so good !! there's a real sense of unease and restlessness, we really feel what reader feels. it's like there's a countdown somewhere, and we are begging her to find corey in time -- in time for what? we don't know, but you make us feel that it is deeply imperative for her to find him asap !!

each new interaction has corey's presence hanging over it, and it's such a great metaphor(?) for the broader dynamics of their relationship. these conversations would (mostly) be of interest to reader, with old friends, or about her work, or her career, but corey is (inadvertently) in the way of her enjoying those moments. she loves him, and cares about him and wants him to be happy, but at what point does that start to compromise her own life unfairly? you've worked this idea in a fascinating way, where the necessity of finding him almost does seem to outweigh reader's other connections, until you look again and think, is this sort of tension -- brought on by something that would be pretty minor in regards to anyone other than corey -- not actually a blaring red flag? [the previous paragraph was written by a certified corey lover, who would absolutely kick everyone else to the curb for that precious man lol 💗]

Maybe he found an unlocked bedroom to hide in, or maybe, against the odds, he made a new friend and they’re holed up somewhere discussing fuel pumps or something.

the way i want this for him so badly !! for a miracle to occur: corey makes a friend. but no, it cannot be 😞 as truly sad as i find it that corey never really got any good chances for socialisation and therefore has had very few strong relationships (of any variety), i do find it incredibly funny that reader is like hmm i hope my weird surly boyfriend made a little friend today, a little buddy to talk about manly car stuff with heehee

That should’ve been the first place you looked, somewhere hidden and familiar he could retreat to.

this !! corey loves familiar. he's been thrown into a new and scary and social experience, i totally believe he'd retreat somewhere safe and quiet when it gets too much. and idk if he did it on purpose, reclining so far back he couldn't be seen, but i do love that his instinct is to hide.

i feel like what happens next is going to be a sick parallel to the halloween party and his, "you threw me in the middle of it" moment. maybe not so accusatory, but his inability to adapt (or choice not to, because we know he can, when he wants to) to any form of social situation is bringing up so many possibilities !! i'm so, so, so excited to see where you go with it 💗

also, me showing up to the annual plymouth records summer solstice bonfire with corey:

edit: ahhh re-read this and i can't believe i overlooked the midwest emo comparison 😭 he's so midwest emo. he's literally the midwest emo. working class job, failed romance, juvenile perception of drug use, never escaping your hometown even when you leave. ugh.

Clean Again

Chapter 13: LONGEST DAY OF THE YEAR read on AO3 | previous chapter | tumblr chapter index make sure to check AO3 for this fic's playlist and other extras! there is also a (smutty) deleted chapter that was replaced by this chapter that can be read on tumblr and AO3 The Annual Plymouth Records Summer Solstice Bonfire general warnings for this fic - angst, fluff, smut (MDNI), canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore contents/warnings for this chapter - drug and alcohol consumption, angst, mentions of abuse 5,115 words @rebel-blue @heartrot666, @wolvesandvampires @cordelium @toxicanonymity @multifandom--mess @hersweetrevenge @futurewife @yllcm @ethanhoewke

Corey snaps the headphone jack spooling from the cassette converter into his phone. It was your idea for him to be the DJ, to help him relax on the long drive to Gordon’s uncle’s house. He appreciates the suggestion, but it isn’t helping him at all. He struggles to make it more than 45 seconds into a song without skipping it. They all feel wrong, everything feels wrong. Every fiber of his being is screaming that this is a very fucking bad idea. His hands tremble as he taps skip over and over.

You put a sympathetic hand on his thigh when the tight turns in the narrow country lanes don’t call for both of them to grip the wheel. When you brought the bonfire up a few days after Rose spilled the beans, you told him you knew the party was exactly the kind of thing he despised, that you weren’t going to ask him to come. Your intentions were to just tell him you had to go, and let him make his own choice to ask to come if he wanted. He was relieved, and thankful that you weren’t going to make him say no directly. Until you delivered your Final Smash. I’ve already accepted I’ll just have to miss you the whole time. Game fucking over. Corey misses you constantly when you’re not around. He feels pathetic, but he misses you when you’re in the next room. He assumed you’d miss him if he was gone forever, and hopes you miss him during the three days apart you maintain less and less consistently. He never dreamed that you would miss him for one single day, surrounded by other people. He texted Will the moment you left the room, before he could come to his senses.

Eventually he gives up on DJ duties, turning the radio off to focus on the rumble of the road and the rattle and slosh of the coolers weighing down the trunk. He fights the urge to ask you how many people will be there, a third time. You haven’t given him an answer he can work with. Not that many people during the day, just all the employees and their partners or whoever their guests are. That doesn’t sound like not that many people to Corey. That sounds like a lot of fucking people. He can think of at least six of your coworkers by name, plus your boss and his wife and at least one kid. He’s never around that many people at once. He runs his errands at midnight to make sure he’s never around that many people. When it gets closer to sunset, we build the fire up bigger, and that’s when everybody shows up. Everybody! How many people is everybody? On top of the everybody already there.

When you arrive there are several cars and trucks parked in the grass away from the house. He doesn’t recognize Veronica’s Jetta among them. He isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or worse. She may be the harbinger of his demise, but she’s also one of the only people who will be here that he’s met. On this night, if not any other, she’s an enemy he might prefer to keep closer. He wishes he knew what Rose drives.

“We can sit here for a minute if you want,” you tell him as you put the car in park. “As long as you need to.”

Corey is deeply grateful for the way you try to anticipate his needs, but no amount of sitting in the car will prepare him for what he's about to endure.

“Let’s just go,” he says.

You hold his hand as you walk across the yard. You stop at the top of the step to give him a kiss before you let yourself in the front door. The entrance to the house is insane, the whole foyer open to a loft above. A drippy chandelier dangles down in the center. The massive first floor is empty, except for a commotion in the kitchen. Several people all lean against the kitchen counter in a big circle, talking and laughing, already a couple beers in. You recruit a few helpers to carry your coolers to the back yard. So many of them come out to your car that Corey ends up empty handed. He doesn’t know what else to do, so he stays close to your heels like a shadow, right behind you as you make your rounds to say hi to everyone, present Drew with your contributions for the barbecue, and finally settle in a lawn chair in front of the unlit pile of wood set to become tonight’s fire.

He pulls another chair as close as he can to yours, so your toes and elbows touch. He can’t help but bounce his leg, even as he worries it makes him more conspicuous. He knows he sticks out like a sore thumb among all these cool people. They’re all dressed like they got a memo he missed, in black shorts that used to be pants and black band shirts that used to have sleeves. Corey feels out of place and overdressed. He should’ve asked you to pick his outfit or something. Now everyone he meets tonight will remember him as the guy who was dressed like he was at work. Even his boots are wrong, Red Wings when everyone else is in Docs and Timbs and cowboy boots.

More people arrive, entering the backyard in small groups. A couple of guys lumber onto the back porch with big speakers on stands. Veronica appears with three beers in hand, announcing herself with the same lilting “Hey y’all!” as she did at Krelborn’s. Corey wouldn’t trust the bottle she holds out to him if she hadn’t popped the cap right in front of him, but now that she’s here, he does feel a small sense of relief. She wanders away when Shelly comes into the yard. You wave from where you’re seated and Corey’s thankful you don’t make him choose between sitting by himself and trying to fit into that conversation. He doesn’t remember her from the pub until you mention it. Then a hazy vision of her setting water in front of him surfaces. You look like you could use that, she said. A burst of static erupts from the speakers, causing everyone around to jump. A man sticks his head out the window and shouts “Sorry, y’all!” Then music flows from the speakers, starting small but growing quickly as the man inside adjusts the volume.

“Country music?” Corey asks, leaning even closer into you.

“Don’t judge,” you say. You sound like you have to defend country music often.

“Never. I’m just surprised. Just cause everybody here is…” He shrugs. You know what he means.

“Well you are in Georgia. Rednecks and punks have a lot of overlap around here.” You gesture around the yard, indicating everyone in attendance. “There’s even a whole country-slash-punk crossover genre I should introduce you to.”

“I’ve listened to country music, some. My dad liked Merle Haggard. I found some of his tapes, when I found the ring.”

For some reason Daddy is the one thing from his past Corey tells you about without hesitation, even as anxious as he is right now. He just finds himself spontaneously telling you the few other facts he knows about his father. He informed you that the ring had been Dad’s the first time you laced your fingers with his in the flickering light of the grocery store late at night, telling you how he hadn’t taken it off since he found it, but that he did have to move it from his middle finger to his pinky at some point. Last time you said something about wanting another tattoo, he confessed his desire for one of a duck like Daddy had.

“That’s so awesome. Merle is one of the all time greats. I love hearing Dad Facts.”

Veronica and Shelly drag more plastic chairs over. People join and leave your little group so quickly it makes Corey dizzy. Rose sits next to him and tells him she’s glad he decided to come. Her girlfriend and Shelly’s boyfriend both pass through. One of them is Jesse and one of them is Bobby, but he doesn’t know which is which. Someone you introduce as your first sewing customer shows him all the patches you attached to their vest. Current and former coworkers appear to wrap their arms around your waist and smack their lips against your face before vanishing again. It makes his stomach sour. Do they all have to fucking hug you? He feels a little better when you give your chair up to a new addition to the circle and perch on his knees instead, draping an arm around his shoulders and fluffing his hair. He’s reluctant to let you go when your old seat is free again.

In time the circle is reduced to just you, Corey, and Veronica. In front of him, several partygoers attempt to get the fire started. They aren’t using enough kindling, and it isn’t getting enough airflow when they set the big log on top, so they just keep snuffing out the whole thing. He could help, but he’s already spoken to multiple years worth of people this afternoon, and he knows the end is nowhere in sight.

A long chord organ chord pours out of the speakers, met by a cheer from all corners of the yard. You hold your hands out to Veronica and start singing. She takes them, singing back to you, a huge grin on her face. The lyrics you belt into each other’s faces are about a pair of high school friends. It irks Corey how long she’s been in your life, that if you had to choose between them, she has a massive amount of seniority in her favor. She’s been through everything with you. He’s just another thing you’ll get through with her help.

The instrumental picks up and you pull Veronica out of her chair to dance. The song isn’t just about high school friends. The song is about two women murdering one of their exes. It didn’t take them long to decide that Earl had to die!, you and Veronica and all the other guests shout. You hook your elbow with hers and the two of you skip circles around each other like children, gleefully detailing poisoning a man’s dinner and wrapping his corpse in plastic. The case goes cold, the women start a business together, and they don’t lose any sleep at night after they toss the body in a lake.

The man in the song was a violent abuser. He beat his wife, so she killed him. Corey can relate to the protagonists. People like that are vermin to be exterminated. Everyone he killed on purpose had beaten him, verbally if not physically. The last time Momma slapped him she didn’t leave a mark, but other times she had. Fucking Doug had knocked the air out of his lungs on the Allen’s front lawn. Corey’s blood still boils knowing he doesn’t know the half of what that shit stain put Allyson through. So he enjoyed the killing. It was fun. Even more fun than the song makes it sound. Under other circumstances this might be a new favorite of his, prompting him to ask you for recommendations of similar songs, a playlist of jaunty tunes about the consequences of being scum. There’s just one problem — Veronica.

Could be it’s only his imagination, being on the run so long causing his already weak ability to trust to rot and wither past the point of no return. But he swears as she sings, she makes meaningful eye contact with him. Over your shoulder her glare says Watch your step, motherfucker. This song could easily be about you. It doesn’t matter that all of the lives he ended were Earls. People who had to die for what they’d done to others. Because he knows she’ll think what he’s done is worse. Stabbing someone with a corkscrew or a kitchen knife is worse. Setting someone on fire is worse. Poisoning someone isn’t that bad. Stomping someone’s skull in and driving over their corpse is much, much worse. He generated just as much evil as he extinguished, and should Veronica ever find out, it won’t take her long to decide that Corey has to die too.

The only reason he’s here right now is because you said you would miss him if he wasn’t. How could that possibly be true? Your friends love you so much, and you have so many of them. What do you need him for? The yard and the house are full of people more eligible than him, people who understand your hobbies better than he ever could, who know how to act at parties, who aren’t endangering your life and their own every moment they spend with you. You’re all Corey has in the entire world. When Veronica sprinkles the poison over his food, you’ll have him replaced with one of those assholes who lined up to hug you before his body is even cold.

He wishes again that there was a way to have you all to himself. If he was all you had then it would be fair. He could mean to you what you mean to him. You would have no choice but to miss him. You and Veronica are still dancing, shrieking the lyrics to another crowd pleaser he’s never heard before. The day is scorching. It already feels like he’s burning through the sunscreen you smeared all over him before the drive out here, and you’re dancing, with only a rag that barely qualifies as a tank top to cover your sports bra, skin sparkly with sweat, 10 feet in front of him. That is what he should be focusing on. Not doing mental inventory of the weapons he’s seen so far — a pile of sharp grilling utensils next to the smoker, shovel, rake, and pitchfork lying in the grass beside the idiots who still can’t get the fire to light right, the knife he gave you, clipped to your pocket as you swing the hips he’s trying so hard to think about instead.

Corey’s major concern earlier in the afternoon had been someone recognizing him for something he had done before. If he doesn’t get the fuck out of here right now, he fears he’ll do something new for people to recognize him for.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The fifteen minutes Corey was gone to smoke the night he met V was nothing. He is the king of the long smoke break. His face is so expressive, sometimes you feel like you’re eavesdropping on his thoughts, but if you’re ever left wondering what kind of mood he’s in, all you have to do is time his absence.

The bonfire is such an event, you can barely believe he agreed to come. When he whispers in your ear that he’s going to step away to smoke, despite the fact that he is already outside and a respectful distance from everyone but you, you know he’s going to be gone for a long time.

You have another beer. A joint is miraculously placed between your fingers and you take two puffs before you hold it out for someone, anyone else to take. Your sense of time warps, and you wish you looked at the clock when he left. You keep thinking you’ll give him five more minutes, until you notice how much the sun has moved. He’s definitely been gone too long. You drop your eyes from the sky to scan the yard, making sure he isn’t just sitting off to the side in the shadows of the trees, or stuck talking to some verbose asshole and waiting for you to come save him. You don’t see him anywhere.

“Haven’t seen Corey in a minute,” Veronica says, following your gaze.

“Yeah…” You send him a text.

To give him time to text you back, you go get water out of one of the many coolers on the deck. You grab two bottles and dry them with paper towels from the snack table, sliding a bowl of watermelon cubes out of your way.

“Hey, cutie,” says a man pouring Doritos onto a paper plate.

You ignore him.

“Hey! I’m talking to you,” he says, waving orange dusted fingers in your face.

“I have a boyfriend.” You don’t look at the man as you drop the wet paper towels into the garbage bag tied to the deck rail.

“Yeah, I saw you with that guy earlier. He looks like a whimp. Don’t you wanna be with a real man?”

“Sure, I do!” You say, in a fake chipper tone, finally looking at him. “But you know, I just don’t see any around here.” You tuck the water bottles under one arm and stomp off the deck before he can say anything else.

Corey still hasn’t answered, so you send him another message as you walk back to Veronica.

“Ugh, some sleazeball tried to talk to me,” you tell her, bumping the backrest of her chair with your stomach.

“Are you good?” She asks, looking back and up at you.

“I’m okay. Be better if I knew where my boyfriend was. I’m gonna go look for him. If you see him, tell him to text me.”

“You got it,” she says.

You start in the front yard. As you walk past the front porch, three overlapping voices call your name. On the swing you can make out three familiar faces. You wave and keep walking but they beckon you, chanting “Come here! Come here!”, and pretending to fish for you. You feel pulled in the opposite direction, down and over the wide yard, but you allow yourself to be caught and reeled in. You do “Hi” and “How are you?”, but when one of them asks what you’ve been up to lately, you cut the long hello short as gracefully as you can.

“Are you gonna be here all night? I would really love to catch up later! I’m actually looking for someone right now, though.” You start to slowly back away as you speak.

“Aw, okay.” “Hope you find them!” “Good luck!”

When you turn away from the porch, you see a pod of people coming up the slope from the direction of the cars. You wave to them, and they wave to you, and you hope that’s that. But a guy you recognize and a girl you don’t wander off the driveway to intercept your path.

“Hey! I have a sewing question!” He declares as he jogs towards you.

“How can I help?” You smile your customer service smile, feeling obligated not to piss off a potential customer.

“I’m thinking about buying a machine to try to make some of my own clothes. Do you have any suggestions or advice or anything?” He asks.

“No, I’m sorry. I hadn’t even like, totally decided I wanted a sewing machine when I bought mine. I didn’t do any research or anything, it was just an expensive machine that was basically new and dirt cheap at an estate sale. And it’s not designed that great, I don’t know if I would’ve bought it if I read reviews first. I had to have my boyfriend clean it out once when it jammed.”

“Damn. Okay. Thanks anyway, dude.” He holds out his hand and you allow him to do some kind of secret fist bump handshake to you.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. Sorry I can’t be more help. But speaking of my boyfriend, I’m looking for him right now. Did you see a guy that’s like 5’9”, broad shoulders, curly, shaggy brown hair down there? He’s got like, Midwest Emo vibes, kinda?”

“Can’t say I did.”

“Alright,” you sigh, “Good luck with your sewing if I don’t see you later.”

If he didn’t spot Corey down by the cars, there’s no reason to walk all the way down there, so you cut across the yard toward the pond and the gazebo instead, looking over your shoulder to the cars at the edge of the yard anyway, just in case.

A few people sit in lawn chairs under the scattered trees. Thankfully none of them call out to you. There are no bodies on the benches around the koi pond, but there are silhouettes in the gazebo. As you approach, you can tell none of the shapes belong to Corey. Instead, it’s Gordon and his family. You recognize his wife from other work events. You’ve never met the person on the other side of Gordon, but you recognize her too. A young woman in her late teens or early twenties, who looks like someone put a girl filter on Gordon’s senior photo. There’s no one else in the world who’s daughter she could be. Despite how excited you are to finally meet her, you try to back away before you’re spotted. You can talk to them after you find Corey.

"Hey you!" Gordon says from the shadows. Shit.

"Hey!” You climb the two little steps to join them under the pointed roof.

"Got another customer complaint about you."

You feel like the air has been knocked out of you. Another? What was the first one? What could you have possibly done that was complaint worthy? A weak "huh?" is all you manage.

"Yeah, this lady said she was looking for a record for her little sister, she wanted a recommendation based on a list of bands she knew her sister liked."

"I thought that went well?" You remember the interaction now. It had been a lot of fun, the kind of day where you really appreciate how cool your job is. You can't possibly imagine what she would've had to complain about.

"Well, so did she! She called the store and went on and on, talked my ear off about how her sister loved your suggestion so much that they're going to see the band you recommended in Orlando next month. She said you're a genius, and it was great how you didn't judge her for not knowing anything."

"Wait," you said, concerned and confused, "so what was the complaint?"

"That you're too fucking good at your job, and I'm gonna have to give you a raise. Oh shit, did I say that was her complaint? Sorry, I meant my complaint."

You exhale sharply, ending in a huffy little laugh. All you can think to say is “How much?”

“We’ll talk about it next week.”

"You're such a dick, Dad. You actually had her scared," his daughter chides.

“Have you met my lovely daughter, Dani?” Gordon asks.

“Hi, Dani.” You wave and introduce yourself.

“Do you have someone for us to meet tonight too? That elusive boyfriend of yours, maybe?” Gordon wants to know.

“He’s here, but you’re right about him being elusive,” you say with a forced chuckle. “I’m looking for him right now.”

“Well, don’t let us keep you. But bring him to meet me when you get a chance.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

Once you’re away from the gazebo, you walk as fast as you can towards the house, not even really processing that you’re getting a raise. Gordon’s joke wouldn’t bother you normally, you know your boss is one of those nice assholes. When he doesn’t make jokes at your expense is when you need to worry. Taking it the wrong way rattles you. Corey still hasn’t texted, so you try calling him. It goes straight to voicemail. Goddamnit.

You vault the concrete stairs up to the porch and swing open the front door, getting blasted in the face by the music pouring through the speakers in the ceiling throughout the first floor. The sun is sinking lower in the sky, and the crowd has grown a lot. You get stuck in a traffic jam in the sitting room, pinned on all sides by the bare limbs of strangers. Through the open French doors you can see someone finally got the fire to burn tall and strong, and a new supply of logs has arrived in the back of Harker’s goofy white pickup truck. For a second you feel like you should give up on searching the house for him and go through those French doors to where Corey’s surely tending the fire, finding a way to be useful like he loves to do. Your little arsonist.

Something clicks into place for the first time. The story about his neighbor’s garage. Was that another coded confession? Are the “bullet holes” in his shoulder actually burn scars? Was he stabbed in retaliation for a fire? Did he set a fire in retaliation for being stabbed?

Finally somebody gets out of the way, and the tangle of bodies you’re trapped in spits you out. You stumble over your own heavy feet, taking several bumbling steps away from the doors, and away from that train of thought. Later tonight you can match up all the evidence like you have with your other theories, trying to find the situation that seems most likely. For now, it will only distract you, when you need to focus searching the house. Maybe he found an unlocked bedroom to hide in, or maybe, against the odds, he made a new friend and they’re holed up somewhere discussing fuel pumps or something.

You kind of remember the layout of the house from last year’s bonfire and the holiday dinner in December. You head towards the kitchen, and get tangled up again before you can even cross the threshold. As you pass through the kitchen on your way to the garage, a girl standing in front of the fridge mistakes that for your destination, and yanks the door open wide for you, blocking the exit. When she realizes her mistake, she swings the fridge door closed harder than she meant to and it slams closed. She squeaks out an apology, face turning bright red, and you assure her there’s nothing to be embarrassed about as you edge past her. In the garage, five or six people stand in a circle, pocket knives poised to puncture horizontal beer cans in their hands. They offer for you to join them in their impending shotgun, but you decline and duck back into the house.

You cut through the dining room and run up the stairs. The second floor is comparatively much more quiet, even with the big hole looking down to the first floor. Soft voices guide you out to the huge balcony that floats over the portico below. The people on the chairs and benches outside are all strangers. They ignore you. When you come back in to the loft you spot Veronica with a couple of people across the opening to the foyer below, racking pool balls.

“Wanna get in on this?” She asks, removing the plastic triangle from the balls and hanging it back on the wall.

“No, thanks. I still have bruises healing on my ass from how hard you kicked it last time. And I’m still — “

“Looking for Corey? You haven’t found him yet?”

“No! I keep getting sucked into conversations and shit. Have you seen him?” You don’t like the desperate edge in your voice.

“No.”

Fuck. If she hasn’t seen him, then he probably didn’t help get the fire going. You’re starting to worry he might’ve wandered down one of the trails into the trees and lost his way or something. You excuse yourself and Veronica wishes you luck, twisting chalk onto the end of a pool cue. You wander down the long hallway that branches off the loft. Unlocked bedroom, empty. Locked door you remember leading to a bathroom. You knock and the voice that calls back “Occupied!” is too light to be him, not enough grit. Another empty unlocked bedroom. A couple of locked doors, and a third bedroom at the end of the hall where you stop to send him another text.

You barrel back down the stairs, checking the rest of the first floor as quickly as you can, just glancing into the open doors of another bathroom and an office where someone cuts lines on the glass topped desk. The last room to check is the laundry room where several people sit on the counter over the washer and dryer, Rose and Jesse squeezed in with them.

“Hello my love!” Rose exclaims and hops down from her perch to wrap her arms around you. It only takes one sentence for you to tell that she is very drunk.

“Have you seen Corey?” You ask without much hope.

“When we got here, yeah!” She nods.

“Have you seen him since then?” You always hate when you see a drunk girl’s less-drunk friends be condescending to her, so you do your best to keep the anxiety and irritation out of your voice.

“Noooo.” She shakes her head. The long, low sound she makes reminds you of a dove.

“That dude we met with you earlier? We saw him again after that,” Jesse says.

“Oh, yeah!” Rose confirms.

“Where!? When!?”

“We had to get bug spray out of Jesse’s truck before we went for a hike. He was laying all the way back in your car. I wanted to wave but he looked like he wanted to be left alone.”

“How long ago?”

Rose looks to Jesse.

“Like, 20 minutes ago?”

“Fuck, I’m so stupid,” you mutter. That should’ve been the first place you looked, somewhere hidden and familiar he could retreat to. You should’ve been more thorough than just asking someone and taking a quick glance. If Corey’s been reclining in the car this whole time, he would’ve been practically invisible unless you passed right by the windows.

“You're not stupid. You're so smart,” Rose corrects. “Do you want me to come with you to get him?”

“No, I need to go by myself. You stay here. And drink some water.” You offer her one of the bottles you’re still carrying around.

“I got her,” Jesse says and indicates a half full bottle she pinches between her knees.

As soon as you pry Rose's rubbery drunk arms from around you, you rush out the front door and over the yard to the treeline where your car is parked.

#corey cunningham #corey: clean again #bonus highlights:#*final smash*#his text with his boss lol does not mince words i love him.#running errands at midnight !!#his tentative exploration into rose maybe sort of possibly being his friend when he wishes he knew if she was there yet or not 💗#corey acknowledging that reader really does try to quell his anxiety but still knowing it doesnt work that way 💗#touching elbows and toes when sat together heehee #corey's excellent conversational recall returns !! i love that he barely remembers the night at krelborn's but when prompted --#-- he can remember a minute interaction. love that for him #rose saying she's glad corey came 😭💗#taryn showing corey their battle vest !! corey thinking it's cool ?? 👀#putting his sunscreen on for him heehee #his mental tally of weapons 😳#king of the long smoke break 💗 how it should make so much sense but reader doesnt know the half of it #how anyone could call corey wimpy looking is beyond me 👀 that asshole needs to give his head a wobble fr #reader trying to be good to rose even though they are at vastly different levels of intoxications. rose is too much of a sweetie #fuck gordon and his corporate pranks lolol #harker jump scare lol i love him and his truck #thank you so much for writing !! 💗 blake you're an angel. a visionary --#-- i'm so so so grateful for the amount of effort and love you put into this --#-- and so so so happy i get to read the fruits of your labour !!

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rocket-69 · 4 years ago

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Notes from JE Sawyer's stream:

Toward the end of development, every location would have a day or half a day to complete. Most of the border locations suffered from this like Searchlight Airport, and thus did not have a lot of time for Lore™

Something specific JE Sawyer wanted to add if they had time: more bug testing, postgame, more Legion content

Testing for Caravan took place during idle times like lunch. Implementation was not difficult. JE says he regrets making it not as easy to understand.

The musical cutoff point was JFK's assassination

"Arcade is not my self insert 🎵"

JE sang the Lonesome Drifter's songs because there weren't many options when they realized they should implement performances. He didn't put them on the radio because he felt it wasn't professional enough. When Bethesda used his Home on the Wastes he was surprised

He chose Goodsprings because when he visited it he liked the idea of starting somewhere small and isolated.

"I feel people responded well to Veronica and Arcade at a time when lgbtq representation was not very common"

"Arcade does not represent me in the game."

Arcade was JE's player character but so was Jean Baptiste-Cutting, and he is also not JE's self insert

He is happy that Arcade is part of the conversation about how representation happens and that as a result there is a broader spectrum of representation. He has seen the discussion about whether being "gay" is a character's entire personality

Carry weight can be a good part of playing a game, but sometimes it just feels vestigial

He feels that karma was more or less vestigial and unnecessary

JE designed cazadors

Vault experiments: were mostly recycled from their time at Black Isle

There's one JSawyer mod, other modders can use it and do what they like just be clear that their mod isn't his

The reason why the Legion has less content is because the devs designed the content on the map from the inside out

He likes the feel and aesthetic of Fallout 4's power armor, but doesn't like getting power armor early. Prefers a sense of progression in equipment depending on stage of the game

Lip sync for NPCs is procedural

Likes Zachary Levi :)

New Vegas's orange tint was found early. Pre-Fallout 4, the lighting engine was not strong, and without a tint everything washes out.

Multiple currencies was JE's idea

JE disagrees with Avellone about the setting being "too civilized" and prefers post-postapoc where people try to rebuild

6, 10, Kings, Jacks are his suggestions for Caravan

The only planned possible "romance" was getting elvis-weddinged to Cass

His rules for music: nothing past 1964, mostly country, some ratpack, more down tempo and mellow songs

John Gonzalez did the writing for Benny, and the Tops characters

THE POWDER GAMERS

Sunny Smiles was never supposed to be a companion

Ulysses' dialog was so big it wouldn't fit on the disc to be a vanilla companion

Cass was the second largest companion

"The ghosts in Baja" are an intentional mystery

Fallout Berlin. Fallout Midwest 2. Fallout New York. Fallout Quebec

Camp Forlorn Hope was a lot of work, mostly by Charles Staples

#jes stream

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fyeahvarchie · 3 years ago

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I think the main problem wasn't where they were going to live, because their life would have been the same, more or less. The important thing was that the writers did not give them the chance to talk, real talk, about what they wanted for themselves, and for both of them as a couple, in the near future. I think it was an important part but the writers decided to go with THAT because it was the better option to break them up AGAIN. It was the easier way to get those ships together.

According to them.

It's riverdale by the way, we know something like this will happen again, but with these new couples, and I don't really know what they are going to come up with. If the other fandom thinks this is the end, they are probably watching another show lol.

This reminds me of a line, one of taylor swift's song: "I think I've seen this film before"

By the way I wish you all a great weekend and I hope you're doing great ❤️

IF the intent was to have them actually tackle their problems and talk about them -- then we would have seen everything you've mentioned. But it was indeed obviously a plot device they came up with out of nowhere just to break them up.

Everything about Veronica this season has been the opposite of what she said in 518. That's a real shame, but they've simply decided to throw her under the bus this time around.

Unfortunately, we've seen this film too many times. 😭

Drama, angst -- it can all be pretty great and rewarding in the end. But that's not Riverdale.

There's been nothing rewarding about this season regarding Varchie. I mean, 517 will live on forever. But that reunion was supposed to be the climax of their arc. Not just a pit stop.

Anyway, nothing we can do about it. But ultimately, they're going to bring them back. I just wish I could be confident in the way they'll go about this -- though, I'm not at all.

Hope you'll have a great weekend as well, anon!

#ask: riverdale

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scabopolis · 4 years ago

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C A T S (i saw you already did a so give me another pairing or talk some more about them. u know who)

C - A ship you have never liked and probably absolutely never will.

Oh man. There are too many to name them all (I might be slow to warm up to a ship, but once my embers of hatred are set aflame, they never go out).

Duncan x Veronica (Veronica Mars): Setting aside the “he thought she was his sister and sexed her anyway” element, which that is a wild statement to write, he’s just such a slice of American cheese trying to convince the world he’s brie. SHUT UP, DUNCAN! YOU’RE NOT A SLICE OF BRIE! I WOULD NEVER HAVE YOU WITH HONEY AND APPLES.

Jane x Rafael (Jane the Virgin): This one is tricky for me, man, because I have a hard time explaining why it didn’t work for me. I think I resented the way the writers setup a false equivocation between Michael and Rafe - that Michael was the fun safe one and that Rafael was the passionate edgy one. I think it did a big disservice to both Rafael and Michael.

Chuck x Blair (Gossip Girl): Back when Gossip Girl came out, my friend was a big fan, I’d never seen it, and she had the first season on DVD. We had a girls weekend in Portland and ordered room service and watched the first several episodes of s1 and I hated Chuck on sight and kept hating him. And my friend kept telling me he got better and I kept waiting and kept hating him. So...I do not want to see his marble mouth face on my TV and I do not want to see him messing with my girl Blair who might be one of the greatest TV characters from the past 15 years. No further questions.

Others include Katniss x Gale (The Hunger Games), Dawson x Joey (Dawson’s Creek), Ted x Robin (How I Met Your Mother), Cristina x Owen (Grey’s Anatomy), Dan x Vanessa (Gossip Girl), Fez x Jackie (That 70s Show), Josh x Donna (The West Wing, just going to sneak this one in and hope no one notices), etc. etc. etc.

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

Alright. I know what you want. To quote one of the Olsen twins in the cinematic masterpiece It Takes Two, “I can see right through!”

Let’s talk Will Cooper and Angie D’Amato from the cancelled too soon show Single Parents (I have gotten 3 people hooked on this show and I will not rest until my reign of terror widens).

There’s a blithers fic for Will x Angie (that you, @thelillykane absolutely need to read!!!) that includes an incredible description of who Will is from Angie’s POV:

Will isn’t the type of guy she’s normally into. He isn’t some tall skinny dude with amazing hair and/or the ability to scream-sing his feelings into an unfeeling world. Will is a big old goofball of a dad, dependable and kind and sometimes manic, with undercurrents of a real weirdness that Angie gets such a kick out of every time she taps into them. Will is intense about the things he cares about, but he doesn’t write cryptic songs about his repressed man-emotions or play guitar while looking soulful about it or anything awesome like that. Will acts on his feelings. He organizes and works and makes life better for the people he cares about.

And it’s that undercurrent of weirdness that Angie sees in Will and that Will sees in Angie that unites them and that I love. Yes, Angie is predisposed to think the worst of people and Will is predisposed to see the best. But! they are both giant weirdos who absolutely are like “yes, when one has transgressed in friendship, the thing one buys to make up for it are giant turkey legs.”

I think the series focuses more on how Will’s labradoodleness betters Angie’s life, but I also see so many ways that Angie’s skepticism of the world would be good for Will - “not everything always works out, dude, and you have to find a way to be okay when it doesn’t.” And also, like, Will gets Angie. I think from the Pilot episode, he sees that her bossiness and meanness and zero tolerance for nonsense is how she cares. Most importantly! It works for Will to have that in his life! Because otherwise he never would have stopped wearing zip-off short cargo pants. He would still be carrying that mermaid bag around. He might have convinced himself to give his marriage with Mia another shot, etc. etc. etc.

Anyway, I probably just need to write my fic about them to get my feelings out.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

Not really, I’m afraid. So utterly boring, I know. Idk, man, send me an example of a headcanon you’d die defending? I feel like the things I get heated about are when I feel canon is interpreted in a way I don’t agree with.

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Single Parents: You and I have talked about this, but Will does not remember what he said to Angie. There’s no possible way. And Angie absolutely rides out the summer in Barstow because there’s no way she’s confronting her complicated feelings head on. Hell no.

Veronica Mars: This one’s for you, girl, but Lilly Kane would have been fine if she’d lived past 16-years old. I don’t think she would have been a forever giant hedonist or super destructive, because her acting out had a very clear origin. And I think her getting out of that house, getting away from her parents, getting away from Duncan, a lot of that chaos would have cleared in her mind. Yes, she might have always struggled with this feeling of inferiority, but I think she would have been okay.

Once Upon a Time: This is a small silly thing, but I like to think that the reason Emma was never adopted or found a stable foster family was because Regina’s curse reached into the Land Without Magic. Later seasons establish (I think??? I basically haven’t watched 3 seasons of the show) that there is magic in the real world, but it’s dormant and hidden because people don’t believe. Regina’s curse took away the happy endings, and so doesn’t it make sense that it would follow Emma to ensure she also didn’t get her happy ending even separated from her family? I have a premise for a fic in my head where the family she lived with felt this need to return her to the foster care system. That there was a pressing on their chests, a squeezing of their hearts if you will, a voice in their ear whispering to send her back. Instead of listening to it, though, they fight against it. And that’s one of the first moments, right from the start, the love of these adopted parents weakening the curse.

#not tagging all the antis #but...I'll tag #anti-duncan kane #anti-rafael solano #anti-chuck bass #(looking at these three together...I really have a type of man I am NOT HERE FOR)#fandom meme #fandom things #thelillykane

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andsmile · 4 years ago

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I really wanna know if even a little part of you doesn’t feel like A doesn’t wanna lose V because he was already rejected by B? He was fully ready to risk it and didn’t even respond to “... and you love V right?” I know he loves V but that convo he had with B where she rejected him is the final thing that made me leave the V/A ship and want better for V. Or are you just looking at the silver lining. A just makes V doubt his feelings for her so much (with her “BFF” don’t even get me started on her) and I absolutely hate it so just broke away. She’s happy with him so if she ends up with him, good for her but how can she trust him fully again? I’ll just always feel like she deserves way better

Okay, time for an honest conversation about this, and I’m putting it under the cut because it’s gonna be long!

People cheat. Real people cheat everyday for a lot of reasons, and when someone cheats on someone else, it rarely is because “OMG I am so in love with this other person that isn’t my S/O that I cannot CONTROL myself anymore”, although fiction often justifies it like that. 95% of the times people cheating has to do with something going on inside themselves--sometimes it’s not even because their relationship sucks. Sometimes it’s because they’re seeking reassurance, sometimes it’s a matter of ego, and sometimes it’s a matter of confusion. Cheating isn’t a nice thing and it’s not something that needs to be forgiven so easily or at all, but it’s something that happens. Some people can forgive being cheated on; some people can’t.

Now, Archie Andrews isn’t a real person, and neither is Betty or Veronica or Jughead. They’re all written to act in a certain way, and sometimes the way they are written doesn’t make any sense. It makes zero sense to me for Betty to cheat on Jughead and Archie to cheat on Veronica when they did. Ok, they had their brief fake dating thing and possibly some feelings that were buried (don’t even get me started on how the narrative never showed this but anyway) but there’s absolutely nothing in the narrative that backs up their point of view with the cheating, that they’d gravitate towards each other and start this emotional affair out of nowhere because they were having problems with their S/O’s. So, why they cheated? Remains to be understood. My guess? Drama. Shock value.

The following episode was written to expose Betty’s reasons for the cheating--she was caught up in nostalgia and wanted to feel safe since everything was changing. Archie was not given the same chance of point of view exploration, so you just see him being confused and, well, willing.

The little POV we have from Archie is when he talks with Fred’s grave and says he doesn’t know where his heart is pointing. He says he doesn’t want to lose or hurt Veronica. He clearly just wanted to have a ~moment with Betty to be sure of whatever he was feeling for her--it’s even what his stupid song says, that they have to try to find out what’s up. Betty shuts him down and doesn’t let him try. I know he didn’t answer that he loved Veronica when Betty asked the second time, but his answer wasn’t “No, I don’t love her,” (love doesn’t work like this anyway). His answer was, “but then what is this all about?” referring to their emotional tryst. If they weren’t going anywhere with it and they loved their S/O’s, why were they even doing anything? Then, he admitted to his mom that he was being flaky and that he needed a fresh start.

Now, the season was interrupted and according to RAS, I think Archie possibly will be given a point of view about his confusion and why was he so willing to start something with Betty. We don’t know! It’s hard when we don’t know. But, honestly, as an Archie fan and especially as an Archie and Veronica fan, I think that Archie has never before made her doubt his feelings. Honestly, he’s always proven himself and his love for her, in numerous occasions, when the fandom was always expecting him to let the other shoe drop. Yes, this time he did act flaky and it might have something to do with Betty--of course with Betty whatever happened would be more significant than with any other girl, they do have history. When it comes to Archie’s character in the comics and in general, it’s always Veronica or Betty for him, normally B when Veronica isn’t there--but it’s definitely a lot more about himself and his own confusion, how lost he’s feeling with his future and his life since his dad died. A few times we saw Veronica and Archie saying they didn’t know where they were going in the future, and that might’ve contributed as well--the uncertainty of their own future. Not trying to justify that he cheated, but Betty did get an explanation, and I expect that we might still have one for Archie too, and that might be crucial with how I view this ship in canon.

It sucks that the writers didn’t write this better. It also sucks that they write Veronica as someone who’s confident in so many things but so insecure when it comes to Archie...but that’s because it’s Betty. And I don’t think it’s because of their shared history or anything, it’s because Veronica views these two kids as the second coming of Jesus, since she doesn’t think she’s a good person. Both her and Jughead have this tendency of seeing Archie and Betty as the purest, best thing that ever happened and they’re the evil that touched them and fucked it up, so why would Archie ever choose her instead of B, in her mind? And I absolutely hate that she tricks herself into being insecure about Betty but that’s how the writers write her, and that’s not on Archie or how he acts. Before the cheating plot he never gave her a reason to doubt his feelings for her, and she always does when is someone she feels inferior to.

(If we take into account that this is a latina character feeling inferior to two white characters so many things are wrong, but anyway)

If she’s written to forgive Archie and to trust Archie again, if Archie is written to love her more than anything again, she will forgive and trust Archie, Archie will love her, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. And I am pretty sure this is where this is heading, whether it’s satisfactory or not. Some ships I can forgive after the writing screws them up. I did it with Brucas. I did with Stelena. Some ships I cannot forgive because I am presented with a better option: I didn’t forgive Chair, and I started shipping Dair.

Now, does Veronica deserve better? I don’t think she deserves better than Archie himself. I think Archie is a good boyfriend for her despite his latest screw up. What I do think is that she deserves to be better written as a character and not to feel inferior to him or Betty, and not to always go back to her father regardless of their emotional abuse. I think she deserves to be strong in other points of her life and maybe holding her head up with Archie is one of those points, but we don’t know what’s coming, so I probably am looking at the silver lining. What’s better than Archie for her in canon so far? We don’t have it. The Riverdale girls don’t have a lot of options when it comes to love interests, do they? Especially the WOCs. Reggie, arguably, but he asked too much of her and dropped her too, and lowkey manipulated her into things. She was not in love with him as she was with Archie. We are not going to see her with a good new love interest, we are not going to get her around Jughead or Cheryl or other potential ships, so why not root for the redemption of the ship I already love?

So, yeah, as much as it’s hard to cheer for canon Varchie and being a Veronica fan in this moment given these writing choices, I choose to cheer for them knowing that there’s no character destruction without character redemption, and also looking at them through some other lenses. I have learned to separate fanon from canon from the comics from whatever. Ideally, Riverdale would be better written, but it’s not. That’s why we have fanfic and that’s why I don’t wanna watch the show anymore. But I’ll keep on supporting canon Varchie as long as I find that they can overcome the obstacles in their way--Archie’s confusion might be one of them, if it’s written to be.

Now, mwah! Hope you have a nice week.

#rd negativity #anti b*rchie #re: this tiresome topic #anon #reply

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 5 years ago

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Cheryl//she means everything to me

Request: Can I request a Cheryl Blossom request where the reader is Archie's twin (a girl) and a super close with her brother and his friends so she doesn't like Cheryl but one day she finds Cheryl crying over Jason and comforts her so Cheryl falls for her and becomes like her best friends has her join the vixens constantly by her side and eventually the reader falls for her and like a super fluffy ending please ps I really love everything you write

hey! i had so much fun writing this, you have no idea! its also super gay!

“Well would you look at that, the sad breakfast club have reunited at lunch.” Cheryl’s cheery voice stops all conversations happening and everyone turns to look at her, her red hair blows softly in slight breeze and her eyes twinkle with whatever chaos she’s going to cause today.

“What do you want Cheryl?” Betty is the first to speak, dropping her fork on her tray as you all wait for her to start her insults.

“Well, cousin, I actually wanted to see how you were. But however, if you’re going to be like that.” She clears her throat before narrowing her eyes. “Betty, your ponytail is wonky and that sweater really washes you out, your hobo of a boyfriend really needs a bath because well, I can smell him from here, or maybe thats just the ridiculously childish hat he refuses to take off. Archie, you’re hair is so ridiculously bright today, its actually blinding me, and it looks like you’ve put enough product in to drown all the little lice that lives in it, Veronica that dress was popular last season, and the shoes a decade ago, and Y/n, I actually didn’t realize you were here. Like I kind of forgot that you existed for a few minutes. What’s it like in your brothers shadow?” She finishes her little speech with a bright smile and the five of you sigh before starting to eat again. You can never read Cheryl, one day she can be sweet and lovely and want to help, the next she’s the worst person you’ll ever meet.

“Probably a lot nicer than being in yours...I can imagine Jason’s shadow is particularly cold.” Veronica retorts and your eyes widen in surprise...that was cold, even for Veronica. Archie smiles proudly at his girlfriend and presses a soft kiss to her head while the rest of the table laugh, including yourself, all 5 of you ignoring Cheryl as she turns on her heel and storms off.

“Lovely talking to you!” Jughead calls after her causing you all to laugh even louder.

“Will she ever stop being a bitch?” You wonder aloud and the laughing pauses, giving everyone a chance to look at each other for a few seconds before you start giggling again.

“I don’t think its possible for Cheryl to be anything other.” Your brother replies through a mouthful of sandwich and you nod in reply.

-----

“Do you wanna ride Y/n?” Archie shouts across the parking lot as he gestures to the truck behind him. Veronica is already in the passenger seat scrolling through her phone and you so desperately want to go with them, even if they’ll do gross things in Archie’s room until your mom gets back from work, but today apparently is not your day,

“If I’m not back when mom gets home tell her that I haven’t been kidnapped or murdered, I’m just going to be late because Cheryl set her Vixens out for revenge and they’ve stolen my bag so I get to play a fun game of hide-and-seek with all my stuff.” You huff, blowing a piece of hair from your face as your shoulder slump in defeat. The fact that you could be spending up to a few hours extra at this stupid school actually hitting you, and Archie gives you a sympathetic look in response to your frown.

“Do you need some help?” He offers but you shake your head. You don’t want to drag him into this, plus you can imagine the Vixens are already planning what they’re going to do to him and the rest of your friends, so you may-as-well give him some peace while he can get it.

“Nah, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I was always the best at finding things when we were younger.” You shrug. “Plus, you don’t want to keep your girlfriend waiting.” You nod towards Veronica who’s hanging her head out the passenger window.

“I suppose not.” He replies, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looks back at his girlfriend and you can’t help but feel a little sad. You’re glad Archie and Veronica have finally worked everything out and are madly in love, but a small part of you feels left behind.

Practically all of your friends are in relationships or are dating, leaving you to be the odd one out at literally any get together. However you have very limited options when it comes to dating, there’s not a lot of queer girls in Riverdale, or even the surrounding towns, at least not a lot of them are out and the ones that are you don’t really like that much. *cough* Cheryl *cough*. And no matter how hard your friends try to set you up with someone, they always seems to pick the worst people. No matter how many times you tell them what your type is.

Three weeks ago Veronica set you up with a girl who came into Pop’s a lot and the only reason she went on a date with you is because she liked Veronica and wanted to know her ‘deal’. Which you can imagine she was very surprised when you told her she was dating your twin brother...yikes.

Maybe you should join a convent. Or get one of those apps that Kevin uses, but only weirdos...and Kevin are on those types of apps. And do they even have them for gay girls.

You ponder your options as you walk behind the bleachers, humming a song you heard in the car this morning as you go. You’re also trying to figure out how to get back at Cheryl and her minions when you hear sniffling coming from a little further ahead of you. Stopping in your tracks you look up and towards the noise to see none other than Cheryl Blossom crying by herself. Thankfully she hasn’t seen you yet and and you quickly look around to see how far your escape is. You're about to turn on your heels when the nice side of you decides to show up, unfortunately.

God, why do I have to have a conscious.

You take a deep breath and send a prayer to literally anybody listening that she doesn’t bite your head off, before you slowly make your way towards the red-head.

“Cheryl?” Your voice shakes with uncertainty and as soon as she hears someone say her name her head lifts up and she’s wiping the tears from her eyes, a look of distain taking over the previous sad expression.

“What do you want Andrews?” She spits and looks you up and down.

You decided to ignore her tone, and try to keep your nice one as you continue your conversation. “Are you okay?”

“Just fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest and her jaw locks as she looks away from you.

“Are you sure?” You ask and sit on the floor a few feet away from her. “Because, you don’t seem it.”

“What’s it to you anyway?” She snaps and you roll your eyes.

“You’re right. It is none of my business.” You sigh and stand up, dusting your jeans off once your stood. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Y/n?” She calls after you and you huff before turning around. “I’m sorry.” Your eyes widen at the words thats just come of of her mouth and you need to sit down.

“What?!” Your jaw drops and she rolls her eyes at you. “Did you actually just apologize to me?”

“Yes, but I can take it back if you want.” She mutters and you force a smile away as you sit down beside her again, this time a tiny bit closer to her than before but she doesn’t seem to mind, instead your pretty sure she shuffles a little closer to you too.

“Sorry.” You mumble and a small smile appears on her face.

“Did you just apologize?” She mocks and you giggle a little.

“Okay, I deserved that.” You nod. “Do you want to talk about why you’re sat on the floor behind the bleachers after everyone has gone home, crying?”

“Well, when you put it so delicately, sure.” She replies and you send her a look. “I miss Jason.”

“Oh.” You say and look at the your hands. You’re not really sure what to say to that. It’s not like you can bring him back, or even take away her pain. As much as you don’t like her, Cheryl’s been through an awful lot. Far more than anybody else and you can’t help but feel slightly sorry for her.

“Yep.” She take a quick glance at you before deciding to look straight ahead. An idea pops into your head and you sit up a little before looking at her.

“What do you miss about him?”

“What?” She furrows her brows as she looks at you and you take a deep breath before explaining.

“Well, in my experience...it kind of helps to talk about what you miss about them. Because it doesn’t push away the fact that they’re gone, and it also helps me remember the best bits about them. So even though it always stings, overall it makes me feel a little better. If that makes sense?”

“Yeah.” She nods and you can tell she’s thinking about what you’ve just said. “I get that. That was surprisingly insightful for you.”

“Thanks.” You laugh and she giggles a little. “So what do you miss about him?”

“I miss...how he always used to tell me stupid jokes whenever mom or dad had been mean to me or if they’d argued.” She smiles a little at the memory, despite the sad undertones and you can’t help but think how brave Cheryl actually is. “And how when we were younger we used to share a room and he would always tell me bedtime stories. Usually after my mom had come in and told us scary ones. As soon as he’d hear her walk down the stairs he would slip out of his bed and climb into mine and tell me magical stories, usually involving the two of us. We’d be superheroes or we’d live in a caste and we’d be happy.”

“Thats sweet.”

“Yeah. He was. He was just the best. He always looked after me, no matter what. None of his friends were aloud to make fun of me no matter how old we were, and when I didn’t have many friends when I was younger he’d make sure I never felt lonely...he was a good person.”

“He was yeah.” You nod in agreement. “When I was about ten, he was playing football with a bunch of his friends and I was walking past them, trying to get away from them as soon as possible. He ended up throwing the ball and it hit me right in the end making me fall over. And instead of laughing, he ran over to me and he said sorry while helping me up. Then he took me to the nurses office and waited with me until my dad picked me up.” You smile flickers for a moment at the mention of your father and Cheryl seems to pick up on it, placing a gentle hand on your arm making you smile a little. “If that was any other boy, they would have laughed. But no, he helped me and I think that sums up Jason perfectly.”

“Yeah. It really does.” She looks at you properly, for what is probably the first time ever and she feels her breathing quicken. How was she ever mean to you? Your eyes are sparkling in the sunlight as you talk about the very few memories of Jason, and she has to fight the urge to cry. Nobody apart from her brother has ever been this nice to her, and after Jason’s death, nobody really said anything nice about him, they usually just talked about the theories surrounding his murder.

A soft smile dances across your lips, the corners of your lips curled upwards and she feels herself mirroring it. Your hair blows a little in the slight breeze and you tuck the stray bits behind your ear, leaving the rest to fall around your face. She giggles when your nose scrunches up at a particularly gross part of a story involving puke and a swimming pool and she frowns when you stop laughing, due to a sad part in a story that also involves your father. She just wants to wrap her arms around you and forget about the entire world and all of the horrible things in it.

“Did that help?” You ask and she nods, a sweet smile on her lips as she looks at you.

“Yeah...thanks.”

“No problem!” You reply, a bright grin on your face and she feels her heart flutter at the sight. She’s never really seen you smile like this, and even if she has caught a glimpse of it, its never directed at her. She feels like she needs to go back in time and right all of those wrongs because she needs to see you smile like that more often.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why exactly were you skulking around the bleachers in the first place?”

“Oh. I was looking for my bag.”

“How’d you lose a whole bag?” She laughs but when she notices you looking at her, your eyebrows raised, she remembers how you could lose a whole bag. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“You can make it up to me by telling me where it is.” You nudge her shoulder and she grimaces.

“Yeahhh. About that. You’re not going to like where they put it.”

“Where did they put it?” You narrow your eyes at her.

“The bin...in the cafeteria.”

“Damn.” You sigh. “Well, I suppose it needed a wash anyway.”

“Sorry.” She sighs, looking at the floor.

“Its fine.” You grab her hand and she looks at you surprised making you pull your hand away (much to her disappointment). “I kind of deserved it. What Veronica said was pretty harsh and I didn’t say anything.”

“No, no. You didn’t say it, you didn’t say anything actually. I was really mean to you and you just took it. I’m so sorry.”

“If it makes you feel any better I did call you a bitch after you left.” You shrug and she looks at your surprised.

“You know.” She stands up and dusts her skirt off, offering you a hand afterwards. “That does kind of make me feel a little better.”

“I’m glad.” You grin and let her pull you up.

“I can help you find your bag and then give you a lift home...thats if you want to.” She trails off at the end, she never feels nervous, but suddenly you’re making her more nervous than she’s ever felt before.

“Sure.” You nod. “You can tell me more stories about Jason if you want.” You ask and its only now that you realize you’re still holding her hand. You mumble a quick sorry and let go before starting to walk away. “You coming?” You look back at her and she swears her heart actually skips a beat as she stares at you, the sun behind you makes you look ethereal, and she’s always believed in angels, but its only now that she’s actually seen one.

“Yeah.” She nods. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think anybody could forget that you existed.”

especially not me...not now

-----

“Did you find your bag honey?” Your mom asks as you walk into the kitchen.

“Mom. You’re back early.” You smile awkwardly at her and then to Archie, who’s stood on the other end of the kitchen with a worried expression on his face. It doesn’t take you a minute to figure out Veronica is upstairs and he’s trying to sneak her out.

“Well, yeah.” She nods and takes a sip of coffee. “I was finished my work and I wanted to spend time with my babies.” She pinches your cheek softly making you roll your eyes. Archie is still looking towards the door and you can hear the slight creaks of the floorboards as Veronica tries to sneak down the stairs.

“I-” Archie is about to practically shout over the noise but your mom puts her hand up in the air, effectively stopping him.

“Just tell her to come down. She can stay for dinner if she wants.” She shakes her head and sends you a quick smile making you giggle.

“Right. Yes. Okay.” He nods and quickly makes his way to the stairs. There’s quiet mumbling before Veronica appears by his side in the doorway of the kitchen, both of them with sweet smiles as they look at your mom.

“Hi, Mrs Andrews.” Veronica waves. “Hey Y/n. Did you find your bag?”

“Yeah. It was in a bin.” You shrug and they all look at you.

“Honey, why would someone do that? Do you want me to call the school?”

“Its fine mom.” You shake your head. “Its just Cheryl and her friends.”

“Well we should talk to someone. They can’t go around putting people’s belongings in the bin. The law clearly state-”

“Mom.” You interrupt her as you sit at the table. “Its fine. She was actually very sorry about it.”

“What!?!” Both Veronica and Archie’s jaws drop while they look at you wide-eyed.

“Cheryl was sorry?” Veronica asks in disbelief.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “She helped me look for it.”

“Yeah. I don’t believe that in the slightest.” She replies.

“Definitely. She’s got something planned. And its big.” Archie agrees.

“Or she could just be being nice. That does actually happen you know.” You reply and he laughs sarcastically.

“Yeah, I don’t think she knows how to be nice. Why are you even defending her? Earlier today you asked if she would ever stop being a bitch.”

“Archie! Language!” Your mom scolds and the two of your roll your eyes.

“That was before I had an actual conversation with her instead of insulting her. Which is what you do.”

“I don’t insult her, Veronica insults her.” He replies.

“Archie!” Veronica slaps him arm lightly and he mumbles a quick apology.

“Yeah, but you don’t do anything to stop the insults.”

“Neither do you.” He retorts and you cross your arms.

“Well, I’m doing it right now s-”

“Okay!” Your mom shouts instantly shutting everyone up. “Thats enough. We’re going to have a nice family dinner and we’re going to enjoy each others company. Now stop shouting at each other. And say sorry.”

It takes a few seconds and a lot of glares and huffs but eventually you say sorry to each other and Archie sits on the opposite side of the table of you, followed quickly by Veronica.

“Do you like Cheryl?” He mouths while your mom is plating up the food and when she isn’t looking you make sure to kick him under the table, earning a death glare from him.

“God no.” You huff, scrunching your face up which makes him laugh.

maybe a little

-----

“Here comes the she-devil.” Jughead mumbles quietly and you all look in the direction that he was nodding to. Cheryl is walking towards your table, with a look you’ve never really seen before. Not one thats directed at your friends anyway. She looks happy. A lot different to how you found her yesterday and you’re glad she’s not as sad, a smile really suits her.

“Oh god.” Veronica mumbles as she takes a sip from her drink. “Hey, did we tell you where she hid Y/n’s bag yesterday?” She asks, lowering her voice as Cheryl gets closer and Betty and Jughead shake their heads, leaning further towards her. “In the cafeteria bin.”

“Gross.” Betty scrunches her face up.

“Thats just unhygienic.” Jughead adds.

“You’re telling me.” Veronica replies. “Mrs Andrews had to wash it three times to get the smell of the soup out.”

“Ewww.” They laugh and you send them a quick glare before looking at Cheryl.

“Greetings fellow students.” Cheryl stops in front or your table and the laughter stops. You swear you can see a flicker of sadness flash through her eyes and you decide to quickly change the subject.

“Cheryl!” You smile brightly at her and the sadness you thought you saw disappears completely. Its not everyday that somebody has been this happy to see her and she decides to grab it with both hands.

All night she was up thinking about you, thinking about how she could have gone so long not noticing you, and how she needs to make sure everybody notices you. Everyone needs to know about you. Y/n Andrews, the girl who could take some of Cheryl Blossom’s sadness away, something that has never been done before.

“Hi Cheryl.” Betty greets her and she forces a polite smile to look at your friends, making it a little bigger as she looks at your brother.

“Hi.” She replies. “Can I sit?” She’s now looking back at you, pointing to the seat beside you and you nod, quickly moving down so she can sit beside you. Archie huffs as he’s pushed off the end of the table and he quickly grabs a seat so he can sit back down.

“Are you feeling any better today?” You voice is quiet, barely above a whisper as you ask her a question and she can’t help but fall a little more for you, because you didn’t shout her business, not like everybody else does. You made sure only she could hear you.

“Yeah.” She nods. “Much better. I still miss him, but it doesn’t hurt as much.”

“I’m glad.” You smile. “Anyway.” Your voice is louder and the quiet mumbles from your friends have stopped. “Can we help you with anything?”

“Yes actually! Y/n, how would you feel about joining the Vixens?” Her smile is warm and kind but the words that have just come from her lips make your bold run cold. Your friends look at each other before looking back at you and you can feel yourself getting hotter and hotter.

“I don’t know Cheryl.” You start, your voice nervous as you try and find the best way to let her down gently. She’s only started being nice to you but you’d rather stick forks in your eyes than be a cheerleader, not with them anyway. They’re mean and rude and they think they’re better than everyone...but you’re not going to say that to Cheryl, so instead you decide on something a little nicer. “It’s just not really my type of thing. Plus, I don’t think they really like me.”

“Can you imagine, Y/n as a cheerleader.” Archie chuckles making you and Cheryl roll your eyes.

“Whats wrong with being a cheerleader?” Cheryl asks and crosses her arms.

“Yeah, Archie. Or are you forgetting that your girlfriend is a Vixen?” You add and Cheryl sends you a small smile which makes your head feel a little fuzzy.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a Vixen. But Y/n being a Vixen is just funny.”

“And why is that dear brother?” You raise an eyebrow and he gulps. He mumbles a quick ‘nothing’, before going back to eating.

“I really do think you should at least try-out. I think you’ll be great. Plus, if any of the girls say anything, which they won’t, they’ll have me to answer to.” She explains and you think about it for a minute. Would it be really bad to be part of the school’s cheerleading squad. The reasonable part of your brain is saying, more like screaming, yes its the worst idea in the world. But the slightly less reasonable and the slightly more gay part is screaming hell yeah. Surrounded by wonderful, smart if not slightly intimidating girls...plus, Cheryl!

“Fine.” You give in. “I’ll try out.”

“Yay!” She claps her hands excitedly before standing up and brushing her hair over her shoulder. The small gesture has you mesmerized and you have to force yourself to remember where you are in order to regain all your thoughts, the number one being, ‘what the hell was that about?’ “I’ll see you after school! Goodbye Y/n.” She waves at you before starting to walk away and its only when Betty clears her throat that she turns around again to wave everybody else off.

Your brother decides to wait until she’s out of earshot until he starts talking again, and the first thing he says is something that doesn’t really surprise you.

“Y/n and Cheryl, kissing in a tree.” He teases, making a kissy face and you throw a handful of food at him. The rest of your friends let out the laughter they’ve been holding in and you roll your eyes so hard you swear they’re going to fall out.

“How old are you?” You huff.

“Old enough to see that Cheryl fancies you.”

“Shut up!”

-----

Cheryl didn’t just fancy you.

She liked you.

Actually she was head over heels, doodling your initials in a heart, mind goes fuzzy anytime she sees you, in love with you.

And you? Well, you were none the wiser.

You just thought she was being friendly. Maybe more than the average person but Cheryl hasn’t had many close friends so maybe this is the only way she knows how to keep them.

She’s holding your hand? She just wants to make sure you know you’re not alone. Her hugs are a bit longer than normal? Come on, the girl deserves a long hug. She always finds a way to include you in conversation? She’s just being sweet.

Yes, Cheryl Blossom was becoming a slightly more bearable person, and it only seemed to happen when you were around. Leaving everyone to have their own conspiracies.

Archie’s was of course that she was in love with you. “Yeah right. Like that would happen Archie.”

Veronica’s was that it was one long prank to get back at everyone who’d hurt her. “Veronica, thats just sociopathic.”

Betty’s was slightly less weird, that she probably just wants to make a friend and so she’s being overly nice to fool people into thinking she hasn’t got a heart made of ice. “Thats just mean.”

And Jughead’s was that she’d either been possessed by a poltergeist. “Aren’t they supposed to be mean?” Or, that she’d been taken over by aliens. “I think they’d have better things to do than make Cheryl nice.”

Plus there was all of the other ridiculous rumors flying around school, but she either seemed to not hear or just ignore them.

“Y/n. Are you even listening to me?” You’re pulled back down to earth by Cheryl waving her hands in front of your face.

“What? Yeah. Huh?” You ask and she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I was talking you through the routine for Friday. You know the whole reason why we’re in the gym after school.”

“Yes. Yes. I remember.” You stand and she shakes her head, despite the smile thats threatening to ruin her facade.

“Okay.” She stands beside you. “Are you watching?” She asks and glances at you, a smile making its way onto her face as she watches you go over the steps in your head. Your frowning slightly at you try to remember the steps and she can’t help but giggle a little as your arms start to move to.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “Ready?”

“Ye-”

“Good.” She nods. The music starts and she begins to go through the steps, you following a step behind her. However half way through you get distracted by the way she’s moving and then it hits you.

I’m in love with with Cheryl Blossom.

“Shit.” You mumble and she turns around quickly.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I erm. I just got a bit distracted. Sorry.”

“Its fine.” She smiles brightly. “Lets go again, I’ll help you this time.”

“You’re already helping me.” You reply and she rolls her eyes.

“I’ll help you even more.” She hits your arm lightly and your heart goes hay-wire at the small interaction. “Stand there.” You do as she says and the next thing you know she’s stood behind you were her hands on your hips.

“Wha-at, are you doing?” You stutter, your breathing getting quicker with each second. Her perfume is suffocating you, but in the best way and her breath is hot on your neck as she leans over you a little.

“He-helping.” She replies, also stuttering a bit and your swear you hear her breath hitch when you move your head to look at her. Your lips are millimeters away from hers, and if you leaned in just a little more you’d be kissing her, something you really want to do right now. You wonder what her lips would feel like against yours, how soft they’d be and if her lipstick would stain you, forever leaving a mark on you. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?” Your eyes flicker up to meet hers and it feels like she’s staring directly into your soul.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Absolutely.” You reply and within seconds her lips are on yours, her hands gripping your waist tightly to turn you around. What you thought kissing Cheryl would be like, and actually kissing Cheryl, are completely different. Her lips are softer than you could ever imagine. Her lipstick tastes like cherries with a hint of maple syrup and you don’t think pancakes are ever going to taste the same again.

You both pull away, a bright blush on both of your faces and she giggles a little as she wipes the lipstick from the side of your face. But it doesn’t matter, she left a mark on you that day behind the bleachers, and you don’t think you’re ever going to be the same again...not that you’d really want to be.

#cheryl blossom #cheryl blossom x reader #cheryl blossom imagine #cheryl blossom x you #cheryl blossom x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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bogmommy · 4 years ago

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3, 10, 15, 20 and 28?<3

3. 3 three songs you were recently obsessed with

according to my last.fm it's:

1. no children by the mountain goats

2. i dont love you by mcr

3. me and my husband by mitski

but according to my heart its

1. la valse de l'amour by edith piaf

2. this is how i disappear by mcr (this version to be specific)

3. i dont wanna get over you by the magnetic fields

10. three fav halloween/spooky songs

hmm i may be possibly bending the rules a little with these bc i dont really care too much for halloween but

1. i can't decide by the scissor sisters (idk theres mentions of murder and ghosts heh)

2. rats by ghost (yknow like the plague? thats spooky right???)

3. ooo can i go with ghosting by mother mother??

15. three songs you want to dance with your love to

omg i have so many..............

1. i wont share you by the smiths

2. candy may by alex cameron

3. dont worry baby by the beach boys or baby im yours by arctic monkeys i cant decide :((

20. three songs that remind you of the person who sends this one

1. because by the beatles. 100% everytime i hear it i think of you

2. my way by frank sinatra?? i saw it on your playlist and i was like OMG what a great idea and put it on my own playlist and i imagine you waving a knife around in a kitchen while i listen to it <3 very nice thought 10/10

3. idk somehow i always think of you when i listen to cocteau twins?? not sure why :0 probs either cherry colored funk or lorelei

4. and ofc. mayb godlike by kmfdm? :3c

and honestly a bunch more idk theres so many songs i hear and think of you? prob nirvana/hole especially :*)

three best songs to get drunk/high to

1. ok imma be basic but the best song to listen to while high is 100% let it happen by tame impala, every other song is forbidden bc its always goes either too fast or too slow compared to how it usually sounds if that makes sense.

2. fun-drunk: hmm honestly like any song that everyone knows the lyrics to. most recently my friends and i scream-sang along to teenagers by mcr and it was such a blast! but another good option is still into you by paramore or maybe some 80s hit like take on me or abba or something hehe

3. a little less drunk, maybe threw up, ready to sleep: hela huset by veronica maggio sjfbsnskfkd this is such a swedish houseparty classic

ty for the questions luv <33

#also sorry for making the last few fucking essays it had to be done 😔#long post #eek #syrenki

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years ago

Text

Let’s Face the Music & Dance - intro

A/N: Oh. Hi friends. Don’t mind me just sliding in here a day late with this debut because I was in a beer and taco induced slumber celebrating my birthday like an old person last night. But! Here we are! And here comes my latest train wreck! I have been working on this one for a long time now, and I am super excited about it. At this point I have a fair amount written, and I plan on it being 8 parts, with a new part posting every Friday. The title for this one, as well as the titles for each chapter come from the song of the same name, of which there have been MANY versions. (I happen to like the Jeff Goldblum and the Mildred Snitzer Orchestra version the best) And like with Oblivion, the chapters will each be based around a Shakespeare quote from the play Much Ado About Nothing. Anyway, I’m super nervous about writing John so I’ll shut up now. Here it is:

Word Count: 1,573

“So that’s…” the outrage that quickly flared up having burned away, his tone sounded more deflated than he’d wanted it to, but closer to how he felt. “That’s it then, it’s…” I don’t have a say. I never did. “It’s decided.”

“Yes.” An incredulous scoff followed the single shrill syllable. His mother gestured with the hand that she had just clapped to her forehead in a display of dramatics, splaying her fingers and dropping her whole arm to her side. “Of course it’s decided, it’s the best option- no, the only option- that we have left now, thanks to you.”

John winced at the unbridled venom in Veronica’s voice. Mild disappointment was something that he’d gotten quite used to hearing from her over the years, exasperation, too. In fact, for a time it had become a form of entertainment to him, and even Hilda, to try to see how many of their mother’s buttons they could push before she lost her composure completely. She was impossible to please entirely, that much had been made clear to the two younger Whittaker children at an early age. Marion was far too close a copy of her mother to find John and Hilda’s games to be anything but a childish nuisance. When she received her share of motherly criticism, she didn’t casually laugh it off or slink away to sulk, but immediately internalized the complaint and set to work on beating the offending habit out of herself like dust from a rug. Either Marion was too stubborn to quit, or too simple minded to see that she was exhausting herself over a losing race, but John knew the truth- Veronica Whittaker- that won’t be her name soon- was happiest when she was unhappily expressing her displeasure. And she isn’t pulling punches...at all. Sinking slowly into the cushions of the settee that he’d hopped, flopped, crashed and bounded into for most of his life, John realized that for the first time, he was truly hurt by the things that she was saying.

Veronica let out another scoff as she spun away from her only son to grip the window frame, looking forlornly out over the estate as men worked to move fence posts to delineate new property lines. “Oh, come now John, you must know that you are the reason that we are in this particular circle of disgrace.”

What? Though she’d never laid a hand on her children, Veronica’s words packed all the sting of a slap, and John felt it square across the face. The Whittaker name had certainly taken several hits of late, that was no secret. When the patriarch of the family takes a few years too long to return home from war, people take notice. When a once illustrious estate has dwindled to a sparse staff and an entire unused wing to cut down on heating costs, well, of course people notice. And when the prodigal son returns from his frivolous travels with an American wife… Larita’s picture perfect smile as she broke his heart and walked out of his life filled his mind then, and though he’d come a long way from the wallowing misery of the first few weeks without her, he still felt a sharp pain twisting in his chest at the reminder of his marriage’s failure.

“You brought divorce,” she whispered the scandalous word despite the fact that it was just the two of them, her thin eyebrows jumping high into her carefully pinned hair, face pinching as though the word tasted sour, “into this house, not once, but twice!” Twice. So I’m to blame for-

“Twice?!” He felt the words spilling out of his mouth as soon as his mind manufactured them. “So I’m to blame for your divorce as well then?” Oh. I didn’t mean to say… Veronica gasped and John’s lips twitched into an even deeper frown. Can I ever keep my foot out of my mouth? Though she’d hurt him with her accusation, it had never been part of his game to trade barbs and he immediately felt remorse for stirring an already rapidly boiling pot.

“You brought that, that...that harlot into our lives, John!” She clutched her shawl more tightly around herself with her newly ringless left hand. Harlot? Surely Lari’s reputation wasn’t that bad. “You let your...your galavanting get in the way of what was best for this family when you married that woman.” Galavanting? I wasn’t- “She tried to poison your sweet sisters’ minds with her...her treachery.” Oh... now she’s really on a tear. “She ruined you, John, ruined your credibility and your status, and she destroyed me when she took your father aw-”

“She didn’t take him away.” His voice wavered and his upper lip curled slightly as he stood. He could feel the prickling of tears gathering in his eyes and he inwardly cursed how easily any strong emotion caused that reaction in him. Swallowing them before they could flow, he continued, looking straight into his mother’s still appalled expression. “He left this family long before Larita set foot on these grounds and I-” and I what? He sniffed, dragging the cuff of his sweater under one eye. “That wasn’t on her.”

That twisting in his chest tightened another notch as he realized that it wasn’t his mother’s comments about his ex-wife that bothered him the most, but that she seemed incapable of seeing that he’d never had anything but the best intentions for the family. And now I’ll never get to prove it...never get to show her that I can...I can help get us back to...or at least… He sighed, running one hand back through his hair to ruffle it. Instinctively, Veronica clicked her tongue as an unruly strand fell down over his eye. Yes, because it’s important that everything is always in its place… and I guess I know mine now.

“John.” She bit his name with a little whispered shuffle stomp of her foot. “This is not open for discussion. Hilda and her new husband will inherit the estate. You will not. It doesn’t matter whatever ridiculous plan you’ve come up with this time.” It isn’t ridiculous, I’ve-

He stepped forward, as though someone else was in charge of his movements. “It isn’t ridiculous, I’ve decided to go to University to-”

“University!” She topped the shrillness she’d used at the onset of the conversation like an audible bookend. “John. Where are you going to get the money to- No! No.” She shut her eyes and blew out a long breath before blinking them open again. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear it. Hilda and Walter will inherit what is left of the estate after their wedding, and I won’t hear another word from you about it. And if you cannot keep from finding a way to foil this chance that we were so fortunate to fall into, then I will have no choice but to keep you from attending any and all wedding related events.” But! “But nothing! Do I make myself clear, John?”

Crystal. “Yes…” he cleared his throat to bolster the volume of his voice. “Yes. Very clear. I’ll… be on my best behavior.” His teeth clenched tightly around the last two words before turning on his heel and heading for the drawing room door. “I’ll see you at the engagement party.”

He could still hear her sputtering as she called his name, but he didn’t turn back, walking out into the hallway, where his sisters’ head poked out of another door, Marions brunette curls stacked atop Hilda’s blonde ones. “John?” Her round eyes grew even wider as she hurried towards him, but Marion stayed put, watching with one eyebrow raised. “John, wait, just-” Hilda reached out and grasped his elbow, her fingernail catching on the knit of his sweater. With a sigh, he stopped and faced her, and she looked even younger and more impressionable than normal. “John, I’m...I’m sorry, I didn’t want this to...don’t want you to-”

Though he was still shell shocked and hurt from the news and the way that it had been delivered, he shoved that away and softened immediately, leaning in to leave a quick peck on his sister’s cheek. “I know, Hilda. It’s alright. If you’re happy with Walter then I am thrilled for you. Don’t worry, little blister.” He winked and she nodded with a smile at the use of the nickname that used to send her running and squealing to tattle on him to their father. “I’ll be here for every part of your wedding, I promise.”

“Well...good. But,” she shook her head, her curls bouncing around her red cheeks. “Where are you going? Where will you-”

He winked again. “Father never did come back for his motorbike, did he?” Hilda’s eyes widened once more, but this time she smiled conspiratorially the same way she used to when they were children and they’d team up to bother Marion or their mother or both of them. “I’ll see you next month, Hilda.”

With that, she dropped her hand from his arm and he continued out the front door and towards the barn. Can’t say he didn’t leave me a way out, too.

But John wasn’t planning on running off to America or Monaco or anywhere else. I’ll show her that she’s wrong. About me, about the estate… I’ll show myself I was right, too.

i have no clue who wants in on this one so i’m guessing. if you would like to be added or removed please let me know! thank you for reading!

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @malionnes @gollyderek @suchatinyinfinity @fific7 @alraedesigns @pheedraws @valkblue @russobill @commanderlola @thesumofmychoices

#john whittaker #let's face the music & dance #lftm&d #john whittaker fanfiction #john whittaker x ???#no one yet #oh veronica why must you be so ...you?#easy virtue fic #this one could be the most fun one yet #idk #we shall see #much ado about nothing

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer), Chapter 2 (Branjie, Jankie) - Joley

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Jackie stood in the center of her apartment, hands on her hips, and exhaling deeply. She had spent the past few hours cleaning the place from top to bottom. Had it been a bit over the top? Perhaps, but she felt like she would be better off being too thorough than not enough. Maybe it wasn’t the first impression Jan would have of her, but it was one that would count.

She checked the time on her phone – she had finished with ten minutes to spare. Regardless of anything else, she was pretty proud of what she had accomplished, and she probably could put off cleaning for a couple weeks now. Who knew all she needed was just the right bit of motivation? With the time she had left, she poured herself a glass of wine. She earned it. Beyond that, she needed it.

A few moments later, there was a knock at the door and Jackie narrowly avoided spilling what was left of her wine as she set it down on the counter and raced to open the door. “Hey Jan,” she greeted casually, as if she hadn’t nearly tripped over herself to race to the door.

“Hi Jackie,” Jan chirped as she walked in, unaware of what had transpired, nor did she pick up on the fact that Jackie seemed slightly out of breath. “Okay,” she prompted, setting a purple folder on the table, “I’m ready for audition prep 101 with Miss Cox.”

Jackie picked up the folder, hand lingering on the counter while she decided whether or not to grab the glass as well. She settled against it, leading Jan into the living room. “So, how many songs do you have it narrowed down to?”

“I got it down to three,” she replied, waiting for Jackie to open the folder to see the pieces of sheet music as well as a few typed up monologues. “I have a couple tried and true ones, and one that’s a little new to me, but I think it fits the vibe of the show better.”

“Smart thinking,” Jackie praised, looking at the sheet music. “Who are you auditioning for again?”

“I thought it over, and I’m gonna go for Veronica. It’s kind of out of my comfort zone, but that’s what excites me about it, you know? If there was ever a chance to break out of what I usually do, this would be it,” Jan explained. “So, if that narrows it down any further…”

“Oh, it only leaves one option,” Jackie said simply. “‘Everything Else’ is the only one with the right energy, the other ones are too… cute, too lighthearted.” She handed Jan the sheet music.

Jan nodded and took the paper. “I trust you implicitly.”

“At your own risk.” Jackie chuckled. “Will you sing for me? I’d like to hear you go through your number, see if anything needs to be tweaked,” she told her, but she also just really wanted to hear her sing. Jan seemed so bright and confident, she was eager to know where that came from.

And Jan seemed more than willing to oblige. “Of course, I have the music on my phone, if you have a speaker or something that I can plug into.”

Jackie nodded and helped Jan get set up. “I want you to run through the whole thing, that way we can pick out the best section for your sixteen bars,” she explained. She sat down on her couch, looking as Jan stood in front of her, the student taking a few preparatory breaths.

And then Jan started singing, and everything made sense for Jackie - why Jan was in this program, why she exuded such a positive confidence. Her voice was immaculate, it captivated Jackie’s attention even more than their first meeting. And she must have shown her approval, because Jan seemed excited by her expression once she’d finished the song.

“So that was good?” Jan asked, eyes bright and hopeful.

“Perfect, are you sure you even need my help?” Jackie teased. “Here, I’m gonna highlight the bars on the sheet music,” she said, standing up and motioning her over to the dining room table.

Jan moved to stand right behind Jackie, perched up on her tiptoes to rest her chin on her shoulder, hand resting on her waist. “I’m excited about this. I wish you could be in the room or something, like a good luck charm.”

Jackie let out a soft chuckle. “You think I’m a good luck charm?”

She shrugged and smiled. “I dunno, I feel a good energy with you. Like, your presence is warm and calming. It’s a good balance, considering my default is the same as a person that took half a bottle of caffeine pills.”

That brought a slight blush to Jackie’s cheeks. She turned, giving her a hug, one she wanted more than she would ever let on. “Well, that’s very kind of you to say.”

“You smell nice,” Jan observed before Jackie pulled back from the hug.

“Oh, thank you.” Jackie grinned, doing her damndest not to get flustered. “Um, do you want something to drink? I was having a glass of wine myself,” she said, already walking over to her glass.

“I’m not twenty-one, but I won’t tell if you won’t,” she hummed.

Jackie chuckled, pouring Jan a glass as well. “I’m from Canada; it’s eighteen there, so we can play by my rules.” She winked.

Jan’s brow rose as she accepted the glass. “Oh, so you’re the boss here?” she asked as she took a sip.

“This is my house,” she pointed out with a light laugh. “Ergo, my rules.”

“Oh, we’re using our fancy adverbs now. Point taken,” Jan teased, then held her glass up. “Cheers!”

Jackie grinned, clinking their glasses and taking a sip. And for a moment, everything was calm and relaxed, but then there was a sudden, loud crack of thunder that made them both jump. They both looked out the window and saw that rain was pouring down as if it were a storm of biblical proportions.

“Shit, it’s really coming down hard out there,” Jan observed. “Wasn’t even raining when I got here.”

“I can’t let you go back out there,” Jackie shook her head. “You can stay here at least until the rain lets up, I don’t mind if you crash here if it doesn’t,” she offered.

Jan let out a small sigh of relief. “Yeah, if you don’t mind, of course,” she replied, as if she hadn’t been hoping for the offer. “It’ll be fun, we can get wine drunk and watch bad reality TV.”

Jackie started to open her mouth to agree, then paused. “Have you eaten yet? You should definitely have some dinner if you’re going to keep drinking,” she said, setting her glass down so she could go and rifle through her fridge. “I have leftover sushi if you want, or I can make sandwiches or something.”

Something about the naturally kind and doting demeanor Jackie had instantly put Jan at ease. It made her feel warm and comfortable, like they had known each other for years without the awkward pretenses that sometimes came with meeting someone new. “Whatever’s easier. I’m not a picky eater.” She shrugged.

While Jackie decided on the sushi and got that out, Jan was pouring herself another glass of wine, and topped Jackie’s glass off as well. “Thank you,” she hummed when Jackie handed her the plate, setting it on the table and sitting down to eat. “Y’know, everyone always says that sushi never tastes as good on the second day, but like, they’re just snobs. It’s totally just as good. Or maybe my standards are low, whatever.”

Jackie giggled softly as she listened. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made Jan ramble like that, or if that was just part of her personality. Either way, she thought it was adorable, and sat next to her as she hung onto her every word. “I think leftovers are underrated as a whole,” she agreed.

“You get me.” Jan beamed, one hand over her heart and the other on Jackie’s shoulder.

She bit down on her lip, not knowing how loud the laugh that nearly escaped would’ve been, and put her hand on top of Jan’s. “I try,” she cooed, then stood up. “Come on, let’s go watch TV,” she said and moved them to the couch, then topped off their glasses.

Jan sat down next to Jackie, as close as she could physically be without sitting on her lap. In her defense, this was always how she’d get after a couple of drinks – touchy-feely, flirty, and yes, even more talkative than normal, as demonstrated by the tangent she went off on about the show they were watching.

And Jackie wasn’t exactly complaining – especially about the touchy-feely part. The alcohol was affecting her as well; the part of her brain that was constantly plagued with overthinking and worry was always the first to go once she started to get tipsy, and neither of them had stopped drinking as they continued half-watching TV.

“God, you’re so pretty,” she said, not realizing it was out loud.

Not that it would’ve been a problem, as Jan just seemed to appreciate the compliment. “Aw, thank you! I think you’re super pretty too.”

“Do you really?”

Jan scoffed. “Of course I do. I thought you were hot since I first saw you,” she said, tossing her ponytail off her shoulder as she picked her glass back up.

“This is news to me,” Jackie admitted as she had more to drink as well.

“That’s why I’m telling you, duh,” she giggled, then turned to better face her. “Your hair is so nice and thick and shiny,” she observed, immediately going to play with it, running her hands through it and twirling pieces around her fingers.

Jackie let out a content sigh as Jan’s fingers wove through her hair. “Careful,” she warned, “this is practically foreplay for me.”

Jan smirked, her arms draping around Jackie’s neck. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, but neither of them would’ve been able to say who initiated the kiss, just that one second they weren’t kissing, and the next second they were. They could still taste the wine one each other’s lips as they let the deep, languid kiss continue.

Jackie pulled Jan onto her lap, arms wrapping around her waist. She trailed her lips along Jan’s jaw and down her neck, starting by just kissing and nipping along the expanse of skin before leaving a mark just where her neck met her collarbone. Her hands moved up and down Jan’s body, starting to push up her shirt.

Jan was a bit more direct, swiftly undoing the buttons on Jackie’s blouse and slipping it off her shoulders. Their lips reconnected in another heated kiss, and she gripped Jackie’s hair with one hand while the other pushed her bra up and palmed over her breast.

That gave Jackie enough reason to follow her lead, pulling Jan’s shirt off and pulling her close, their bodies flush up against each other. She unhooked her bra soon after, tossing it aside and letting her hands explore Jan’s bare torso.

The way Jackie’s hands felt against her body sent goosebumps all over Jan’s skin. Jackie’s hands were smooth and warm and made her arch into each touch. She started to grind against Jackie as well, straddling her thigh to better do so.

Jackie was fairly certain that she had never seen anything hotter than Jan grinding on her thigh, or heard anything hotter than the little whimpers and whines she let out. It landed on top of Jan’s sheet music, pushing a couple pages onto the floor, but neither of them noticed in the slightest.

Any sense of control or inhibition that Jan had entered Jackie’s apartment with had long since gone out the window. She tossed her head back, letting out sharp, breathy moans as she continued to grind on Jackie’s thigh with more and more fervor and desire.

Jackie caressed Jan’s body, hands moving up and down her sides, memorizing every curve with her fingertips. She pressed open-mouthed kisses between her breasts, down to her stomach as far as she could reach, eyes flicking up to watch the expression of relaxed pleasure on Jan’s face.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” Jan’s voice was higher, more strained, and it wasn’t long before she realized she was chasing the orgasm that was rapidly approaching. Her hips were bucking more erratically and she was grabbing onto Jackie wherever she could.

“That’s it, come for me,” Jackie cooed, kissing and sucking at Jan’s neck as she held her through her orgasm. And once she felt Jan let herself go limp in her arms, she scooped her up and carried her into bed.

They laid in bed quietly, nothing but the sounds of thunder and rain hammering against the windows to be heard. It was calm, but with the distant tinge of anxiety because neither of them knew what to say. What was there to say after that?

Jackie turned to face Jan, hoping the words would come to her. But to her relief, Jan had passed out. And Jackie had to admit, she looked just as beautiful asleep.

——

Jan was the first to wake up the next morning, groggy and disoriented, but not quite hungover. She wasn’t sure how she should feel about waking up topless in Jackie’s bed – guilty? Confused? Stressed? It wasn’t that she regretted it, but she was afraid that it would complicate what was supposed to be a friendship at most.

Time was ticking away before Jackie would wake up, and Jan needed to decide what she wanted to do, and quickly. She pushed herself out of bed and went into the other room to get dressed. As she went back into the bedroom, she noticed that Jackie had personalized stationary on her desk (because of course she did). Jan decided that leaving a note and bailing was the best option - it was more personal than a text and she was still able to avoid confrontation.

Hi Jackie!

Sorry to run out on you like this, I had to get somewhere in a rush. But I had a great time with you last night, and I’ll see you in class on Monday. :)

Jan ♥

Jan wondered if the heart was too much, but decided it would be worse to erase it, so she left it on Jackie’s nightstand and quietly left. And she kept her fast pace, making it back to her dorm in record time. The second she got back to her dorm, she flopped onto her bed and screamed into her pillow.

“Rough night?” Lemon asked as she casually looked over at her disheveled and distressed roommate. “Not like you to spend it elsewhere.”

“Got caught in the storm, stayed with a friend,” she mumbled as she sat up.

Lemon arched her brow. “You get hickies from your friends often?”

Jan’s eyes widened as she turned to look in the mirror. Sure enough, there were multiple visible bruises littering her neck. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Looks like someone already did.”

“We didn’t have sex!” she insisted, unable to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. “I mean, even by lesbian standards, it wasn’t sex. We weren’t even naked.”

Lemon continued to look at Jan as if she were insisting the Earth was flat. “First of all, as a lesbian, I have no fucking idea what ‘lesbian standards’ are and I don’t want to know. Second, Even if it wasn’t ‘technically’ sex, it was enough to get you all worked up like this.”

Jan groaned and laid on her back. “It just shouldn’t have happened… It was my TA, Lem.”

“Damn, you gonna get some extra credit at least?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know why I tell you things,” she murmured, reaching for her phone. She knew telling Gigi wouldn’t be any easier, but it wasn’t exactly something she would be able to keep as a secret.

And when Jan did meet up with Gigi, she wasn’t dreading the confession any less. They sat in a booth at a nearby diner, placing a brunch order before she decided she needed to just rip the bandage off. “I spent the night with Jackie.”

Gigi nearly spit her coffee out at that. “You did? Why? What happened? Don’t you skip any fucking details, Sport.”

Jan chewed on her lip. “The storm was really bad, so we decided I’d just stay there. Then we had some wine… well, a lot of wine. And we… We didn’t fuck, per sé, but things got very heated.”

“That would explain why you’re wearing a scarf in seventy degree weather.” she nodded as if she were making an astute observation. “So what happened when you guys woke up?”

Jan’s gaze drifted down to the table. “I woke up before she did, left her a note and went back to my dorm while she was asleep.”

Gigi looked at her friend like she was ready to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. But instead she just asked, “Are you fucking stupid?”

To which Jan shrugged and replied, “Maybe.” There was a brief pause as they received their meals. “But can you be specific as to why, though?”

“This was literally a sign that you guys have a connection, at least a physical one. The least you could’ve done is talk to her, how’s she going to take it as anything other than you not being interested, and don’t you try and act like you’re not.”

“I’m not not interested,” Jan conceded. “I just… It shouldn’t have happened like this, you know? I went over there to practice for my audition, not to dry hump her fucking thigh.”

Gigi did her best to listen and be the supportive friend that Jan clearly needed. “Look, you can’t un-fuck up how you handled that,” she started. “We just need to figure out where to go from here.”

Jan nodded in agreement as she picked at her food. Where did she go from here? Her heart said back to Jackie, but her brain said into a coma, ideally.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #jan sport #jackie cox #branjie #jankie #lesbian au #university au #college au #smut #hold me tighter even closer #joley

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missjanjie · 4 years ago

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Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer) | (2/?)

Title: Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer) Summary: A sequel to Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer. Brooke Lynn and Vanessa are back at NYU, but with new and improved positions. Brooke’s ready to start her career as a professor when, as fate would have it, she realizes her TA, Jackie, might have the hots for a student named Jan. The couple just might see it as a sign to give two new girls the love story they found in the same place. Word Count: ~3k (this chapter) / ~6.1k (total) Relationship(s): Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo), Jankie (Jan Sport/Jackie Cox) Rating: E

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