#not keeping up with the joneses but ensuring to blend in just enough

[catididnt]

The thing is trying to pick between resting, and necessary chores, and what you want to do, and just being lazy (not the same as resting - sleep is not lazy).

I know I need more rest, yet if I give up more things I want then I will only do the necessary and the resting. I tried that and it was very empty. All the necessary is daily/weekly/immediate survival.

I can shuffle the necessary about and made it into patterns to be extra efficient, so there is time for what I want as well as resting, but there’s still no time for being lazy. For just being. I gotta be extra on top of it to get it all to fit, and it really only works when I’m feeling better than normal.

It gets hard to truly rest if you’re being efficient. You got to fit your tasks to your time, and then you’ve got to equate your exhaustion level into how long it’ll take. Your math will get confused.

I want to be lazy. I want to nap with the cats because the sun is warm. I want to dance badly and sing worse when my favorite song comes on without stopping to get back to work after the first chorus. I want to play the mandolin or mess with practicing a language, or any of the little hobbies that are not prioritizes. I want to not feel time pressing against me, counting down.

I guess I want time to be a companion instead.

[theangriestpea]

In the Shadows : Four

Summary: Jughead Jones, resident werewolf, just wants to protect his family and his pack from the incoming doom of The Red Circle. Sweet Pea and Lily join him to help keep the Southside safe from human tyranny. Meanwhile a demon princess named Myra and succubus named Lavender had a plan to bring on the apocalypse. <ao3> <masterlist> <playlist>

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Jughead Jones x OC, Sweet Pea x OC, Kurtz x OC

Warnings: None for this chapter

Word Count: 5.3k+

A/N: Thank you so much for bearing with me. Between being sick and having emotional stress at work, I’ve been unable to write as much as I’d like. Hopefully I can get back into the swing of things this week. This part is mostly necessary filler. Booooo. But hopefully the next one will be more interesting. Likes, comments, and reblogs are all highly appreciated. Ty <3 Graphics made by @southside-vixen​ and myself

Part Four: Alliance 

Jughead approached the freshly bought double-wide trailer at the lot on the end of the street hesitantly. He had talked to Lily at great length the night before, and Sweet Pea as well. He had joined in later and although he was snide at first he quickly became serious when he realized that his home in the middle of the forest was also in danger. His home in which his little girl slept every night. He wouldn’t risk her life for anything, even his if it did leave his ego a little bruised.

They had a strong protection spell they could use, however because the area was so large, they would need at least one more practicing witch to have enough power to sustain it. While the yin and yang witches of the forest knew no other person to enlist in their efforts, Jughead had what might be perceived as a crazy idea.

Something his mother had told him resonated within his mind constantly since their meeting. Pregnant demons were not only dangerous but powerful. Powerful than a regular witch or normal bred demon. They had the power of two inside of them. This is why she told him to stay away from the trailer he was currently walking towards. To avoid it at all costs. And if he saw her head of purple hair to turn and walk in the opposite direction because she was nothing but trouble.

He walked up the stairs, breath caught in his throat as his nerves ran haywire in his chest. His knuckles rapped on the freshly painted door. A tense few minutes paused before it opened, a gold chain stopping the door from opening fully. A hazel eye peered out at him. When she saw who it was, the door shut.

Jughead sighed, thinking she was refusing to talk to him. In reality she was just undoing the lock chain so she could invite him in. She was alone in the house and had grown rather lonely. Plus this wolf was seen with the leader of the Red Circle just a few days ago. She was curious to say the least. He could try to hurt her but it would be very unwise. Lav did not think he looked that stupid.

“Are you the welcoming committee?” She said, a teasing smirk on her pale lips. Her eyes looked incredibly tired and he noticed she was still wearing her pajamas even though it was midday.

He shook his head in response before clearing his throat, “may I come in?” The young Jones looked around to make sure no one was watching him. The coast was clear. This did not go unnoticed by the succubus, but she let him in regardless.

Jughead stepped inside and she closed the door, locking the chain once more before showing him to the living room. She curled up on the recliner while he sat on the old burgundy sofa. “So, little Jones, care to explain yourself?”

He stared at her, surprised that she knew who he was. “That’s right. I know your name. I know your place. I did not come here ill informed.” Myra had told her everything there was to know about the Joneses and their pack. Not that any of it was good dirt or made for interesting gossip, it was just information to keep her protected.

“You’re pregnant.” He stated, his shock disappearing for the time being. “With a hybrid, right?”

Lavender shrugged, “I suppose that is what she is, yes.” Her eyes seemed to pierce through him. She was analyzing him as a potential threat. When she realized that he truly was not there to harm her, she relaxed in the armchair.

“Her father?” Jughead asked, watching as she picked up a cup of tea and drank from it. It smelled like ginger and a blend of citrus fruit. He had to know. It was important for him to know.

And, of course, Lav had no reason not to tell him. It wasn’t some well kept secret. “Her sperm donor ,” the demon corrected, “is out of the picture. But, he was a soulless warlock if you must know.” She chose to use a verb in past tense. Perhaps it was her way of protecting Sweet Pea. Not that she really understood why he needed protecting.

Jug smiled softly, apologetically, as if she cared that she was a single parent. She didn’t. “So you’re a magic user then….”

Lavender was beginning to grow aggravated. She did not understand what any business this was of him or why she trusted him enough to let him in to begin with. “I’m half witch, if you must know. So yes, I’m quite adept at the use of magic.”

He appeared to be relieved. “I know this is a lot to ask, and you don’t know me or anyone else here but….my pack and the rest of the Southside need your help.”

She stared at him, a curious expression crossing her face as she motioned for him to continue. She took another sip of her tea.

“The Red Circle is planning to burn down the forest. My pack and many other supernaturals in Riverdale use that forest as a safe haven during the full moon. Do you know about the Red Circle?” He asked and she simply nodded her head. Jug continued, “The coven that is helping us, they need one more witch to have enough power to use the protection spell. It would save dozens of lives, maybe even hundreds. I will do anything to repay you, even give you my soul if I have to. I just want my family to be safe.”

The succubus cocked her head to the side. No man had offered up his soul to her on a silver platter like that. It was rather amusing. “You knew there was a pregnant demon in your neighborhood and thought that enlisting her help would seal the deal. Weren’t you helping the leader plan the whole thing?”

Jughead took his beanie off long enough to run a hand through his thick dark hair. “I was undercover. They don’t know what I am.”

She pondered his proposal for a moment. Mulling over whether or not she wanted to help him. She had a very distinct feeling that the “coven” he had mentioned were the two witches in the woods. If she helped him then she would have to see him again. Though perhaps that wasn’t that terrible of a thing.

Lavender shrugged her thin shoulders, “I suppose I’ll help you, wolf. But I don’t need your soul. You’re not my type.” She snickered at her own joke. “But I must warn you. If anything happens to me… Well, I’m under the protection of some pretty powerful demons. I can’t ensure your safety if my well being is threatened.”

A smile broke across Jughead’s face and he almost jumped up with joy at her agreeing to help. He was sure she would say no. There was nothing in it for her. He was of no significance. Yet he hoped she would just listen and….she did. His blanketed opinion on demons was starting to change.

“Though perhaps there is something you could help me with in exchange for my help.” Lav said, her index finger lightly tapping the side of the teacup. There was a small, cruel smile on her lips that lit her eyes with mischief.

Jughead felt a sinking feeling in his stomach at the look she was giving him. “Anything.” He said, though his voice shook with a resonance that definitely said maybe not anything . He hoped in vain that she wouldn’t notice it.

“I need a large amount of souls in order to grow my child.” Lav began, finger still tapping rhythmically in beat with the canter of her voice. “While I can harvest a soul without killing, sometimes I simply cannot help myself. I shift and attack. I plan on staying in Riverdale for the next ten or so months. You can imagine what this means.”

He swallowed thickly as he nodded his head. Of course , a large selection of souls for her to feast on would be necessary.

“Relax, I don’t need much.” She said, giggling at his worried countenance. “I just need help with body disposal if the need arises. You already have one serial killer causing you problems, you really don’t need two.”

The wolf relaxed slightly, his pack wasn’t really stranger to hiding bodies. After all, things happen. Accidents happened all the time in the murder capitol of the world. Hell, his father had enough lye hidden away to dissolve half the town if he needed to. “I can do that.” He said finally, “Do you have a cell phone?”

Lav didn’t really have a need for a cell phone. She shrugged after a moment of thought, “I guess I can get one if that makes it easier. Money is easy enough to procure for a demon of my caliber.”

“I’m sure it is.” Jughead mumbled to himself. He could sense her strength but also her youth. Her cockiness could be her downfall if she overextended herself. Though certainly whoever was protecting her would stop anything from happening. He did wonder why she was under such protection. Why did other demons care if she birthed another hybrid? One that was only a quarter demon? True hybrids could be stronger than the average full blooded demon but it still rose a multitude of questions and doubt inside of him. Perhaps that was a line of questioning for another day.

The purple haired demon watched him with a curious gaze. She finally set her cup down and stood. “If that is all, your highness, then I must ask you to leave. I’m due for another meal soon and I must get ready. Though I could hunt in sweatpants, I much prefer not to.”

Jug nodded his head and stood, offering his hand for her to shake to seal their verbal agreement. Lavender took his, teasingly flushed him with lust before letting go. Her curiosity turned to perplexion when she realized he showed absolutely no interest in her. Her will was completely ineffective. This didn’t happen too often, though typically did when she went after a gay man or straight woman. She couldn’t influence people who were genuinely not attracted to her gender.

Lavender had not pegged him as homosexual, but she supposed anything was possible. That or he was on the ace spectrum. Asexuals also had a natural block against her. She couldn’t make them want anything that was against their nature. She had only met this kind of block once before in her twenty years of living as a soul sucker.

“I’ll call on you if I need you, Jughead,” She said, her tone even to hide her uncertainty. Jughead jotted his number down on a scrap of an old receipt in his pocket and handed it to her. Lav thanked him, a habit from her time as a mortal, before showing him to the door.

"Can I get your name?" He asked tentatively, "since you seem to know mine?"

Lav smiled once more, "they call me Lavender."

Jughead looked over her one last time, as if to ask himself if he was really going through aligning himself and his pack with a demon. Of course, he came to the conclusion that he simply had no other choice and left.

Lavender shook her head and stretched her arms out above her before disappearing into her bedroom to change.

Much later that night, when her stomach was full and her appetite gone, Lavender found herself at the wolf bar on the edge of the Southside. Many of the Jones’ pack lingered there and she thought best to get to know the ones she’d be protecting.

She looked extremely out of place as she had been hunting on the Northside. She chose to wear something a bit extravagant. The tight black dress was wearing what was currently her favorite little black get up. A little number by Versace with a deep sweetheart neckline. Shoes were black peep toe stilettos by Louis Vuitton. Although she expected that the mutts prowling the Southside would have no idea of the price point of her outfit. Which was just fine with her.

She also had one of the latest models of cellphones and had contacted Jughead with another request. She wanted a signifier that she was one of his pack now so that she would not get any trouble from them in the open. She explained that if they bothered her then they would be killed by the demoness that watched over her. Jughead replied that he would happily oblige and would meet with her the following day with a new leather jacket. He also told her that if she really wanted to seal the deal then she’d need a tattoo. Lav agreed that she would, but her own artist would do it.

Lav sipped on her Shirley Temple, watching the supernaturals of the Southside drink and smoke and play pool. Some were dancing, a few girls grinding on poles that were mounted on a stage. Interesting.

A woman that smelled heavily of dog and bourbon slipped into the space between Lav and the neighboring barstool. She cocked an eyebrow at her, interested simply due to how close she was. Most people had given her a wide girth of space, not wanting to come near a pregnant demon. It had been a bit annoying since she did come to socialize.

The wolf’s brown eyes were moving languidly up Lavender’s body. “I think you’re lost, princess.” She slurred, having recognized the designer labels with ease. It had been something that Lav was not expecting. Werewolves very rarely had good taste. “That outfit costs more than I make in a month in the ring.”

Dog fighting, or should she say wolf fighting, was very common in low income areas. It was akin to MMA only much more violent. Lav returned the stranger’s gaze and noticed how toned her arms and bare stomach were. She was obviously very fit and judging by the little blemishes to her skin, she was quite good in the ring.

This almost set Lav on high alert. She almost prayed to Myra to get her to come, however she quickly realized that this woman was not here to harm her. She was here because she was attracted to her. That much she found extremely amusing. Still, she was full. She had no need to feed right now. Perhaps she would take a raincheck.

“Can I buy you a drink, puppy?” Lav asked, her voice teasing rather than condescending. “Or maybe some water to sober you up.”

The wolf let out a barking laugh and hopped onto the barstool. She was taller than Lav by a good five inches naturally, though they were probably about equal with her heels on. “You sure can, your highness.”

Lav waved the bartender, a wolf by the name of Hog Eye, over and motioned for the woman to order. She ordered a bourbon and coke. He asked Lav if she wanted a refill and she nodded her head yes with a polite smile.

“Charlie,” She slurred, leaning against the bar heavily with a seductive smirk. “You, princess?”

The demon watched her, wondering what made her want to mess with a succubus while everyone else stood so far away from her. She was unafraid and unabashed. It was a little refreshing, to be honest.

“They call me Lavender.” She repeated the same words she had said to Jughead that morning. Her words were carefully chosen as Lav wanted to iterate that this was not a name she gave herself. It was one that was thrust upon her by her kin. Her human name had long since gone from this world, only to be uttered by Myra when she was in some kind of trouble.

Charlie seemed okay with her word choice, though Lav assumed that was more due to her drunkenness than conscientious thought. “So, you’re here covered in designer clothes for what exactly? That’s not going to attract anyone around here.”

“It attracted you.” Lav countered coyly, a sly smile on her lips that were painted red with lipstick.

A light pink blush spread across her cheeks, one that Charlie pretended was due to the consumption of alcohol and not actual embarrassment. Lavender bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

Charlie struggled to find a way to counter that. Normally she was quick with a comeback, but the dizziness of her mind made it difficult. “Not for the reason you think.” She said, a bold face lie that was caught onto quickly.

“Oh?” Lav asked, voice laced with a false air of innocence. “What reason would that be?”

Hog Eye placed two drinks in front of them. “You’re in a bar but you’re not drinking alcohol.” She pointed out, “Wearing expensive clothes. You look extremely suspicious. My curiosity is piqued.”

Lav hummed back a small affirmation, “and it has nothing to do with how hot I look tonight?” She asked, that signature devious glint in her blue-green eyes.

The blush darkened, but Charlie chose again not to address it or act at all like she’d be caught. “So, what are you doing here?” She asked, dodging the question.

“I was hoping to run into someone.” Lav answered honestly, stirring her drink with the clear straw that was stuck in it. She couldn’t stop thinking about the witch, no matter how hard she tried. It was starting to drive her a little mad, however she was not about to confess that to anyone.

Earlier when she was hunting, she had willed her hair to return to the way it was when she was born: dirty blonde and pin straight. She didn’t have her piercings or tattoos. However, when she crossed the railroad tracks both her wavy purple hair and body jewelry returned as they were her preferred appearance. She had managed to control herself but she knew this wouldn’t last. The blood bath would start in a few weeks. For now she left men living but without a soul just as she did with Sweet Pea. It didn’t bother her as long as she never saw them again.

Charlie looked around the bar as well, “I was too. He’s not here though.” She sighed softly, obviously just as disappointed as Lavender was though Lav chose not to show it.

They sat in silence for a bit, Charlie drinking more as Lav continued to stir her drink as her thoughts drifted to how she would have to work with Sweet Pea again to keep the Southside safe. It would be an interesting dynamic. He wouldn’t be able to tell she was pregnant yet. Would Jughead break the news to him? She assumed he wouldn’t if she asked him not to, however she really had no reason for him to keep it quiet. After all, anyone with a supernatural sense of smell knew and she certainly couldn’t silence all of them.

“Why don’t you come home with me?” Lav asked simply. “Instead of us both being alone.”

The wolf eyed her suspiciously, looking for some kind of deceit, “so you can kill me?”

“I’m not going to kill you.” Lav said back, a rare genuine smile on her face, “I just want company. I’m pregnant and alone.” And to tell the utmost truth she was scared. She was terrified of the future. How would the world change for all of them when her daughter was born? Would the world be set ablaze? Would all the creatures on Earth perish? The guilt was eating her alive.

“Are you going to feed off me?” Charlie asked, though she acted as if she wouldn’t truly care if Lav did happen to take her soul sometime in the night.

The succubus shook her head, “no. But that doesn’t mean I won’t have a little fun with you first…”

+++

Sweet Pea’s face was stern as he stared at the three card spread in front of him. It was the same as before. He shouldn’t be getting the same three cards over and over, and yet he did. His magic was stronger. He could feel it coursing thickly through his veins. But this. This was not something he wanted to see.

Three of Swords upright for the past. That was clear. The heartbreak and grief he had caused Lily during their brief time as lovers. His cheating on her shortly after she gave birth to Daisy. Him tearing them apart because he simply did not love her in the way she needed him to. A card marked by the emotional pain that they had both suffered.

The Devil upright for the present. Currently he could feel that he has become more and more a shadow of himself. The dark parts peeking out behind the mask he had worked so hard to fortify. His impossible sexual appetite and deviance made clear by sleeping with a succubus and losing his soul to her. He felt pulled to her still. Like he needed her body to be against him again. Her delicate throat in his hand, legs wrapped around him tightly. He was addicted after just one night.

Ten of Swords upright for the future. This was perhaps the most disturbing as this particular card was not a sign of anything good. At least not while it was upright. He would be betrayed and hurt. The ending to whatever this was would be painful and likely tragic. He was bound to lose something more dear to him than his soul and he prayed to his matrons and patrons that it wasn’t Daisy. Begged them to please not take his little girl from him as she was his entire world. The thought brought stubborn angry tears to his eyes.

Lily entered the room after sensing his distress. She quietly padded up to him before kneeling down beside him. Sweet Pea quickly pretended to be rubbing sleep from his eyes when he was actually trying to dispel his tears. It did not fool the mother of his child however. She glanced at the cards and her chest tightened with pain.

“She took your soul, didn’t she?” She asked quietly. The question was more rhetorical because she could feel that his spirit had faded. He’d been more irritable lately, his anger much more explosive than usual. It frightened her to a degree in that she was worried he’d take it out on Daisy somehow. She’d hex him herself if he did that.

Sweet Pea sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumping forward. “Yes.” He replied in a low voice. “She was sent by Asmodeus to collect it as payment.”

Lily’s eyes hardened, “I told you.” She hissed. “I told you to stop taking from demons. I warned you this would happen. She-” Lily stopped, not wanting to continue because she wasn’t quite that spiteful towards him anymore. She wanted to say that the demon had used him just as he had used her. Now he knew how it felt to be the victim.

He cut his eyes at her, narrow and angry. “I was careful! I gave sacrifices! Offerings!”

“Clearly it wasn’t enough.” Lily replied sourly. “Because now you’re never going to be whole again. She could have killed you and left Daisy without a father. Maybe that would have been better.” She said harshly. Sweet Pea visibly flinched at her words.

Her own angry tears sprang to her eyes, “Now look what you’ve done.” She motioned towards his future care. “I know you’re not good with your minor arcana. Do you know what this means?”

“Yes, Lily!” He snapped, voice raising, “I know what it fucking means!”

Lily stood, not liking the tone he was taking with her one bit. Not since he put himself in this mess and she felt as if he was dragging her in as well. “It better not mean Daisy, Nathaniel. If it does, you will wish that bitch had killed you because I won’t be nearly as quick.”

She twirled around and stormed out of the cottage, needing to get out of the toxic air that was surrounding the both of them. Them screaming at one another was not something she wanted Daisy to hear. The toddler always cried when they fought and often had nightmares that same night when she finally fell asleep. Both felt terribly guilty afterwards.

She didn’t know where she was going as she made her way through the forest. She didn’t know where her new wolfy friend lived, though she had a general idea.

Lily’s furious tears trailed down her face as she entered the Sunnyside Trailer Park some time later. The moon was at its zenith now. The streets were empty as lamp lights flickered on and off due to bad connections that no one had the money to fix.

Something in her gut made her stop. Her ears pricked to try and hear any tiny sound. Leaves rustled in the wind. Branches scratched the sides of the double-wides she was in front of at the end of the side street. Something wasn’t right. Something had her desperately searching for who was watching her, what was watching her. She swallowed a thick ball of anxiety as she turned full circle in an attempt to see her stalker.

It was no avail. She muttered a protection spell under the breath that she knew wouldn’t be very powerful. She was without anything to increase her abilities. She hadn’t prayed or made any offerings lately. And she certainly wasn’t having any sex. All these things made her weaker than she’d like to be right now, alone, out in the open.

Then she saw it. A hulking figure clad in white fur running towards her at full speed. She recognized it as the vargulf that had attacked her on the night of the moon not long ago. She braced herself, uttering a silent prayer as she stood her ground.

He leaped high into the air, front paws landing heavily on her chest. She fell backwards onto the pavement, bright stars glistening in her blackened vision. He was trying to rip out her throat but her spell was narrowly protecting her. She felt her skin bruising from the pressure of his jaws as she screamed out in blind fury.

Lily grappled at the deranged wolf’s head, searching for his eyes to scratch out though it was not of much use. He was determined to make her his next victim and she was suddenly worried that she was the loss that Sweet Pea would suffer.

No, she couldn’t leave her little girl like that. Not in a million years. She yelled again, this time in a dead language to force him off of her. There was a pulse of power and the vargulf was thrown off. Lily quickly sat up, panting heavily as she watched it struggle to stand. Some invisible pressure was on top of it and it was howling in pain.

Did she do that? The spell she just recited shouldn’t have the power to do what was happening. She was trying to repel him, not crush him.

Suddenly a familiar hand was yanking her off the ground and pulling her down the street so urgently that she kept tripping over her own two feet. Only when they were safely inside of a trailer did she become calm enough to realize that it was Jughead.

He raced to the window and peaked out the blinds. The white wolf was gone and nowhere to be found. His trailer was warded against it so it couldn’t possibly get in without an intense amount of magic.

His eyes didn’t leave the window as he began to slowly relax, “Are you okay?” He asked before finally stealing a glance her way. Lily was shaking lightly, looking as if she was about to collapse. Her emotions were getting the better of her and she felt faint. Not just that but she could feel the blood oozing from the back of her head.

She felt incredibly faint and Jug rushed to her side to hold her steady. His parents were still at the Whyte Wyrm working on a plan to figure out the identity of the vargulf while his little sister was sleeping soundly in her bed. How she didn’t wake up to the screams and howls outside, he didn’t know.

He took her into his bedroom and sat her down on the bed before she could hurt herself more by falling down again. He could smell the blood in her hair. “Stay here. He can’t get in here, you’re safe. Let me get something for your head.”

Jughead came back with a damp rag and a bag of ice. He cleaned the back of her head gently before wrapping the ice in a clean cloth and setting it against the wound. Lily winced but relaxed nonetheless. “You probably shouldn’t go to sleep. You may have a concussion.”

Lily sighed as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Her adrenaline was draining from her fast and she was growing more and more tired. Jughead frowned lightly at her, seeing how sleepy she was. “What are you doing out there and at this time of night?”

“I came to find you.” She confessed, tears started to well up into her eyes again. This time they were out of sadness and not out of anger. “I’m worried about Sweet Pea.”

His gaze softened. He didn’t know the full story but he knew Sweet Pea was the father of her child. He also knew that they were no longer together. “How so?” He asked.

Lily let out a shaky breath. “He slept with a succubus the other night and...she took his soul. She meant to kill him but he stopped her.”

He went rigid, blood running cold. “What did she look like?” He asked suddenly.

“Purple hair, lots of piercings, pretty...why?” She asked, eyes almost slipping shut until he shook her back awake.

Jughead knew then. He knew it had to have been Lavender and that Sweet Pea must be the father of her child. It was too big of a coincidence. He wasn’t sure if Lily could handle the news right now. However he feared if he kept it from her then she’d be even more upset with him.

“Lily,” Jughead said gently, rubbing her shoulder lightly. “I have to tell you something and I need you to remain calm.”

She hummed back a nonverbal response, green eyes staring up at him with exhaustion.

“The demon you speak of is...a neighbor of mine.” He continued, watching her tense slightly before relaxing again. “And I’ve asked for her help with the spell.”

Lily tried to pull away from him but he kept his grip on her firm. “You asked a-”

“She’s pregnant.” He cut her off. “Pregnant demons are extremely powerful. She said she’d help. Lily, listen,”

Lily freed herself from him then, eyes wide with surprise. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Maybe she had been pregnant before Sweet Pea? Wouldn’t he have said something? This was impossible, the child couldn’t be his!

“She’s going to help us protect the forest, Lily. Please, the power of four is twice as good as the power of two, right?” He asked with a pleading voice.

She fell silent, wanting to cry again or scream or run home to slap the shit out of Sweet Pea for being such a goddamn idiot. Jughead pulled her into a strong hug. He could see the emotions on her face, smell the despair coming off of her. “It will be okay...I promise.”

Tag List: @the-gargoyle-queen​, @southside-vixen​, @wayward-river​, @princesweetpea​, @redhairdontcare732​ (comment/ask/message if you want to be added or subscribe to AO3)

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

Downtown Letdown

A/N: This is my second fic for the 2017 Louden Swain SPN Mini Bang, and is for one of my favorite songs. I first heard this song when they played it at ChiCon 2015, and I fell in love with it right away. I struggled to get this fic to line up with the central themes of the song, but I hope you all agree it’s at least close. Special thanks to the best betas in the world, @littlegreenplasticsoldier and @manawhaat without whom my fics would not be nearly as legible. These two women inspire me with every word they write and push me to be better.

Summary: Dean dealing with his feelings while he’s with Lisa.

Pairing: I guess Dean and Lisa, but it’s not the focus.

Warnings: Angst, I guess. I don’t expect anyone to need tissues.

Word count: 1815 words

Dean wakes up to a bright streak of sunlight peeking through Lisa’s bedroom curtains. Usually, he fixes the curtains before he goes to bed for exactly this reason, but last night he was a little too out of it to care. Yesterday was November 2nd. It’s been more than 25 years since his mother died, but the day still creeps up on him. It was almost noon before he realized what day it was. He doesn’t remember much of the day after that. To be fair, he’s had other things on his mind the past few months.

Sam.

Dean’s head pounds with the hangover he knows he deserves, his heartbeat loud in his ears, his gut still twisted with grief. Lisa tried to make him feel better last night and he just snapped at her. The pie was store-bought, not that it mattered. It had mattered, but there was no good reason for it.

The sunbeam has shifted, now, and is blinding the ever-loving hell out of him. He turns over to get away from it, hoping Lisa is still asleep. He’s not ready to face the disappointment and misery in her eyes. It would be merely a reflection of what he’s feeling, but it shows he should be doing a better job of hiding it from her. She doesn’t deserve it.

Right now, Lisa’s face looks peaceful and happy in the golden light. Much different to when the tears well up in her eyes as Dean rages when he’s drunk with grief. Or when he wakes her with one of his nightmares. Or when he doesn’t understand why she twists herself in knots to make sure Ben has a “good” breakfast in the morning instead of Lucky Charms or Pop Tarts. He and Sam grew up on them, so they can’t be all bad, right?

She doesn’t often let him see her cry, but he knows she does. It’s been almost six months since he started making those damn tears fill her eyes. Six months of him alternating between researching ways to get Sam back and drunkenly grieving the loss. There have been days when he’s been able to try to be some kind of father figure for Ben and partner for Lisa, but those days are few and far between. He needs to do better. Sam would want him to do better.

Without moving his head more than the pounding inside of it will allow, Dean climbs out of bed and starts his morning. He looks at himself in the mirror, taking in the dark circles around his eyes, the scraggly beard, and the pale skin, and decides that it’s time. It’s time to give up fighting what Sam had wanted for him. Sam had wanted him here, with a good woman and a boy who needed him. Sam had told him not to do everything he’d spent the last six months doing. Sam had wanted him to have this life. Maybe it was time to live it.

The decision made, he makes breakfast for Lisa and Ben, packs a lunch for Ben that doesn’t include beef jerky or Twinkies, and cleans himself up until he practically shines. He heads to the construction site where his neighbor, Sid, works and gets himself a job. Sid has been annoying as hell since Dean moved in, following Dean around like a puppy when he goes to the neighborhood shindigs, but Sid’s a good guy. He’s ignored Dean’s rudeness and been nothing but kind, offering all kinds of help, including a reference for this job. It’s an actual nine-to-five job doing whatever the boss tells him to do, earning whatever the company decides to pay him, and Sid shows him the ropes with a smile.

When he’s done with work, he heads back to Lisa’s house, reminding himself that it’s now his house, too, and does his best Ward Cleaver impression. He showers off the grime from the work site, helps Lisa set the table for dinner, asks Ben what he learned in school that day, and does the dishes so Lisa can watch some reality show on TV. When he crawls back into bed, his feet hurt from new boots, the throbbing ache matched by his heart when he wonders if Sam would be proud of him.

***

Dean’s been working with Sid at the construction site for over six months, now, and he’s finally gotten into the groove of this whole civilian life thing. He makes breakfast for his family every morning, goes to work, makes good money, comes home, helps Ben with his homework, and has mind-blowing sex with Lisa before going to sleep in time to wake up and do it all again the next day. Sometimes, his routine changes, like when Sid invites him out for a drink or there’s a neighborhood barbecue. He and Ben had a great time when he taught Ben how to change the oil in the truck, and one of Lisa’s famous date nights taught him he’s pretty stellar at mini golf. There’s not a lot in his life to really make his pulse race, but it’s nice. He’s learned how to blend in to his suburban surroundings and life isn’t bad, for the most part.

He still has days where he feels like he can’t get out of bed and he fights to keep up the act. Days like Sam’s birthday. Last Tuesday wasn’t a picnic, either, when one of the guys on site joked he thought his house was haunted. Dean had to fight to keep from asking about cold spots or scratching in the walls. Sometimes, it’s just a nightmare that reminds him that he’s just playing a part here. He dreams that Sam is back, but Lucifer is in control, slicing into Lisa and Ben in front of him while telling him how Sam is screaming for his big brother inside his own meat suit. Dean wakes with a cry in his throat, his heartbeat so loud he thinks it will wake the neighbors. His face is wet with tears and Lisa is trying not to cry with him as she attempts to reassure him that everything’s okay. It’s not okay. Sam’s still in Hell, locked in a cage with the devil, suffering relentlessly. Dean wonders if Lucifer uses the same tools Alastair did, or if actual tools would be too pedestrian for the devil.

For some reason, Sundays are the hardest. There’s more day in a Sunday than any other day of the week and it’s difficult to keep up the charade. Sometimes, he goes for runs like Sam used to, just to feel the blood pumping through his veins. Without the distraction of neighborhood parties, Ben’s baseball games, and Lisa’s get-togethers where one woman sells shit nobody needs to all the other women, Dean finds himself searching for cases before he realizes what he’s doing. He tries to tell himself he’s just making sure there’s nothing in the immediate area, ensuring his family is safe, but it’s an excuse. If he’s not ridiculously busy being happy with his life, then he’s jonesing for a hunt, daydreaming of taking out an entire werewolf pack, his brother strong and sure by his side.

Tonight, though, is a not-bad night. He’s having a relaxing drink with Sid, trying not to talk about himself, trying to not be too good at darts, trying to live up to the image Sid has of him in his head. It’s exhausting. A news report plays on the TV behind Sid’s head, talking about the grisly discovery of a dozen bodies in a warehouse two towns over. Dean hears just enough to know the bodies were drained before Sid turns around to see what’s got Dean’s attention and distracts him from it because who wants to talk about that when tomorrow is Friday and the end of the work week? Dean heaves a breath and shakes his head to clear it. He’s just a guy, now. Not a hunter. Shut it down. Back to Sid.

The waitress all but thrusts her chest into his face as she brings the next round of drinks. Sid chuckles and calls Dean a dog. Dean shakes his head and smiles, brushing off the ghost of a chain he suddenly feels around his neck. The waitress caresses his arm before they leave, her phone number written on the back of the check, and Sid shakes his head in admiration and laughs as they part ways. Dean’s still tugging at the neck of his shirt when he hears the scream coming from the building site across the street. He doesn’t notice how his breathing eases in spite of the spike of adrenaline in his system as he grabs his gun and flashlight out of the car.

***

It’s been a few weeks since Sam came back and the djinns killed Sid and his family. Dean moved his family to a new house, new town, new state, and tried to find a balance between never letting Lisa and Ben out of his sight and imagining their deaths every time his back is turned. He never found a new job, but when Sam called and demanded his help on a hunt, he had no time to keep looking.

The hunt is over, now, and so is the argument that led to Lisa telling Dean that he needs to go and be a hunter. She said he isn’t a construction worker, and though he tried the best he could to be normal, to have a life that didn’t revolve around bloodshed, she’s right. Dean’s a hunter and always will be.  Besides, his gut is telling him there’s something going on with his brother, something he just can’t put his finger on. Staying here and putting up drywall isn’t going to help him figure it out.

Dean’s standing in his new garage, holding the car cover he just took off his Baby. God, she’s beautiful. Just looking at her makes his heart beat faster in his chest. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, enjoying the feel of being able to breathe freely for the first time in a long time. He climbs into the driver’s seat with a smile and reverses out of the garage, taking off into the night.

The moon is large and full over the road ahead of him as he turns up the volume on the radio and begins singing along while he taps out the beat on the steering wheel. This is where he belongs. This is who he is. He will find a way to fulfill the promises he made to Lisa and Ben, but he’s done trying to be someone he can’t be. He’s the guy that’s gonna figure out what’s going on with his brother and kill some evil sons of bitches along the way.

Ye olde forever tags list: @abaddonwithyall @busybee612 @ilostmyshoe-79 @charmingnoodle @oriona75  @spnashley @manawhaat @sammit-janet @littlegreenplasticsoldier @mrsjohnsmith @mamapeterson @charliesbackbitches @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @castielsbecky @scorpiongirl1 @deanlover7712 @iwantthedean @growningupgeek @feelmyroarrrr @chelseamarie73 @classy-sassyandsmartassy @spectaculacular-sammy @sarahbearccxc @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @sleep-silent-angel @helixiaray @badwolfstoletheimpala @nichelle-my-belle @my-mind-is-incognito @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @ashiewesker @deansleather @your-kidding-me-smalls @winchesterprincessbride @suckonthesedragonballs @chelsea072498 @helvonasche @rizlowwritessortof @supernatural-jackles @wheresthekillswitch @lucifer-in-leather @sandycub @d-s-winchester @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @sandlee44 @superwholoki @charred-angelwings @percywinchester27 @jared-padaloveme @melissaj616 @sylverminx @sassyspn67

SPN tag sheet users: @vintagevalentinexx @thinkwritexpress-official @bowtiesandapplepie @itsemmyb @ezauraemmaline @charliesbackbitches  @deandoesthingstome @deerlululucy @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @mrsjohnsmith @growleytria @thegleegeneration @samtomydeanwinchester @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @i-never-said-a-pilot @thewinchestielboys @supermoonpanda  @sis-tafics @amaranthinecastiel @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999 @kittenofdoomage @samanddeanwinchester67 @prettyxwickedxthings @ferferelli @lilyoflothlorien @olitzisbae @iridianuniverse @the-morning-star-falls  @shortandlongstories @ackleslaugh @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @chrisatplay @faith-in-dean @kreborn17 @for-the-love-of-dean @winchesterfiesta @zanthiasplace @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @trenchcoats-and-bees @curliesallovertheplace @jencharlan @skybinx-blog @beachy2014 @impossible-box @tia58 @sams-little-toy @faegal04 @sunriserose1023 @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @saving-things-hunting-family @jotink78 @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @pinknerdpanda @alangel1895

[david-cheong]

New Post has been published on EC-Realty

New Post has been published on http://www.ec-realty.com/trendy-systems-and-configurations/

Trendy systems and configurations

THE complexities of house purchase has been done finally, and now it is time to get the interiors of this place to call home decorated. While scouring glossy magazine spreads and endless Pinterest pins and internet posts for the next chic design that will keep you one up on the Joneses (or at least at par), don’t forget that reality is far different from a perfectly arranged photo, especially in the case of comfort.

Whether decorating your new home for the first time or looking to de-clutter and bring some order to the chaos, here are some tips and ideas for a fresh new and organised look for home.

ORGANISATION MATTERS There are many reasons why including proper home organisation into one’s ID blueprint is important. For starters, good organisation planning ensures the home looks polished time and time again. Every item does and should have its own place in the home and when kept in its place, gives a particular room or space a streamlined appearance, like what you see in home design magazines.

For 2017, make it your personal aspiration to find each item its own space in your home – not in the “out of sight, out of mind” (under the table cloth or behind the curtain kind of way) – instead, a specific place that will enhance or beautify an area. If you find yourself struggling to do so, it might mean that it is time to de-clutter, give away or discard the odds and ends.

BYE-BYE CLUTTER Many people make the mistake of purchasing storage containers before they have de-cluttered and reorganised their interiors to even know what will be going into those “plastic boxes”. Says Neat Method lifestyle organiser Marissa Hagmeyer: “We can’t stress enough that you should wait to buy anything until you have done the organising and measured your space to figure out exactly what you need before you ever step foot in a store. Professional organiser and designer Jeffrey Phillip adds in: “It can also lead to keeping things we do not need since it feels good to contain things and say or think, like ‘Ah, I have a bin for that!’”

One of the most popular de-cluttering trends at the moment is the KonMari method. Readers around the world have been inspired by Japanese organising consultant and author Marie Kondo’s book The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and can attest to the effectiveness of Kondo’s methods. The philosophy is simple – get rid of what does not “spark joy” in you.

Kondo’s advice: Tackle clutter by category rather than room. The reason, being that categories of items can be in different rooms.

When you gather all items in a category into one spot, it will be easier to de-clutter. Clothing, according to Kondo, should be the first category, because it has less emotional attachment to a person (or so they say).

This may seem odd to some, but Kondo talks about considering the “feelings” for your items. For clothes, she asks one to think how would a t-shirt feel huddled up in a corner? How would socks feel to be balled up and thrown into a corner? “Sort through the pieces that you definitely do not associate any form of joy with and chuck it out. Then move on to the next category.” Kondo has even created her own special technique of folding clothes that doesn’t just save you a ton of space, but also gives drawers a neat and streamlined look.

STORAGE SOLUTIONS Once the de-cluttering is done, the organisation and configuration planning follows.

Baskets are your best (storage) friend. Even interior designers and home organisers swear by it. Baskets come in varying shapes, designs and materials, which make it easy to blend into the landscape of home.

First mark down which parts of home you will need baskets for – think the lowest level of the shelves, on top of cupboards, under the bed – and be sure to take down measurements for these areas. Interior designer Judith Balis is a fan of baskets. She says, “Baskets not only hide a multitude of sins, but they are also a great way to add texture to a room.”

When decorating with baskets, Balis likes to maintain consistency by using the same material for all baskets. She does this to avoid visual clutter, but adds that the baskets can be of varying shapes and sizes.

Use open shelving to hold yourself accountable for every item in the house. With no dark corners to hide the clutter, you will be more likely to reduce impulse spending and be disciplined in keeping your things organised.

Open shelving also makes it easier to put things away, as Impact Organizing LLC owner and certified professional organiser Kate Brown points out. “Make everything a one-handed operation and avoid lids at almost all costs. The fewer steps, the better the organising system,” says Brown.

To avoid visual clutter, especially in places like the pantry or kitchen, invest in clear containers of varying shapes and sizes for refillable foods like cereal, pasta or rice. Arrange and display your items as if they are pieces of art.

Don’t be afraid to use the back of doors for vertical storage either. A simple plastic shoe organiser can be used to hold other belongings like spices in the kitchen, toiletries in the bathroom or even small toys in the children’s room.

STAYING IN LANE No doubt it isn’t easy getting organised the first time round, but maintain that state as it takes some discipline and picking up of good habits for any positive change.

Put limits by keeping track on how many of certain items you can own at a time. For example, if you are a collector of coloured pens, know the limit as to how many you own and how many you can own – depending on the “storage” capacity and space you have.

A huge tip (as this bad habit is found in many a home) is to place decorative items in places where it is easy to dump clutter such as coffee tables, bedside tables or kitchen countertops. Professional organiser Maeve Richmond suggests, “Place a plant, a figurine or a framed photo on your side tables, or even add a table runner or centrepiece to a dining room table.” With something that looks nice and in its place already there, there really is no place for “bits and pieces” or a mishmash of what-nots.

If all else fails, do not be afraid to seek professional help. At time external intervention is required before a situation takes a deep dive into being the next home on Hoarders!