#in another part of the dream I was watching Riverdale with people and there was a Reggie x Gay Kevin plot line | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwaxpoetic · 3 years

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fic: like you’d get your knuckles bloody (betty/archie, riverdale)

fandom: riverdale pairing: archie andrews/betty cooper, barchie There were so many choices that felt so small at the time. It seemed as if she blinked while getting a refill of her milkshake at Pop’s and woke up in a forest, covered in her boyfriend’s blood. She had been so many Betties between them - in a bunker, at the farm, chasing down a masked killer, in a black wig, holding Chuck Clayton’s head under water —

Standing beneath her porch light, her heart in her throat while Archie Andrews said, “I can’t give you the answer that you want.”

Was that the end of the beginning or the beginning of the end?--

Betty Cooper, before-and-after.

Her sense of narrative structure made her wish it was as easy as a before-and-after.

There was such clarity in a defining moment, in being able to spot the time when everything changed. There was a Cheryl before and after Jason died; a Jughead before and after he slipped on the Serpent jacket; the Breakfast at Tiffany’s Veronica before she turned In Cold Blood.

There was no clean before-and-after for Betty Cooper. There were so many choices that felt so small at the time. It seemed as if she blinked while getting a refill of her milkshake at Pop’s and woke up in a forest, covered in her boyfriend’s blood. She had been so many Betties between then - in a bunker, at the farm, chasing down a masked killer, in a black wig, holding Chuck Clayton’s head under water —

Standing beneath her porch light, her heart in her throat while Archie Andrews said, “I can’t give you the answer that you want.”

Was that the end of the beginning or the beginning of the end?

——

The old Betty, wherever she began and ended, was characterized by her discipline.

Every day, she suited up in her prim cardigans and slick ponytail, ready for another day as the dutiful daughter, the doting sister, the star student. She could handle any pop quiz, any turbulence in the Cooper household, any pressing deadlines at the Blue and Gold. When the pressure got to be too much, she would clench her fists and breathe through it.

And every night, she looked out her bedroom window at what she really wanted. Second floor, second window from the back, calling to her like a lighthouse. Archie’s window was lit up at all hours of the day and night, whether he was strumming his guitar or dozing off with a movie on. It was her nightlight. She fell asleep to its comforting glow, knowing their time would come one day.

She had to be disciplined, because she was hungry. Sometimes it scared her, how strongly she felt. There was a bottomless pit of want inside of her and she tiptoed around it, testing the edges but never letting herself fall in. Betty didn’t want to be the kind of person who was dragged around by her id. She wanted to be the person that other people thought she was. Sometimes that meant sleepless nights helping Polly learn her cheer routine, piling more volunteer hours on top of her already packed schedule, turning the other cheek to another Blossom insult.

Season five Betty Draper, Cheryl had once called her, as if she knew the half of it.

——

Betty had never thought Archie would love her in the exact way that she loved him.

She knew that love took different shapes in each container. She could see the way her mother and father fit together, pushing and pulling but ultimately a team, making each other better - a real laugh, in retrospect. One of her favorite memories was being eight years old, when Alice had just broken a big story. The pride lit her up from the inside and Hal’s beaming face reflected it right back. But she had also watched from next door as the Andrews fell apart. Fred and Mary lost something that seemed sweet and steady and kind, and then Fred puttered around that big house alone.

She thought about what that love might feel like, when it finally came.

Archie was all sweetness. Being his girlfriend would mean never walking to school alone, sporting his letterman jacket at games, and dancing together at prom. It would be afternoons working on a jalopy in the garage and nights cuddling together on the sofa. He would write songs about her and she would proofread his college essays and they would move to New York together after graduation.

It would be an awful lot like being his friend had been since they turned 13 and their parents had put a moratorium on sleepovers, except that she would get to touch the abs that had been taunting her. The heart that beat under those defined pectoral muscles was pure gold and it was an even better prize.

Something murkier lay beneath the surface for Betty. Sometimes she wondered if she loved him or if she coveted him. She wanted to know every thought in his head, every dream in his heart. Long before the school hallways had started to echo with Archie got hot!, she had been daydreaming about ways to get his hands on her. There were no dibs on a person, but she saw him first and had seen only him since.

Betty had never thought that Archie would burn for her, but she basked in his steady glow. Archie lived closer to the surface - he wore his heart on his sleeve and an easy smile on his face. That was one of the things she loved about him. They would be so happy together, but his devotion would never match hers.

It wasn’t until she was standing at the edge of a shallow grave, looking down at his terrified, resolved face with a shovel in her hand and a gun to her head, that she realized they may have misjudged each other.

——

A dam had broken in Betty Cooper earlier that fall.

It could have been one thing or any number of things — Veronica Lodge sweeping into town, Polly’s mysterious disappearance, Jason Blossom’s body washing up in Sweetwater River. It was an unusually active September, especially by Riverdale’s sleepy standards.

For Betty, it felt like the foundation had been cracking. With one firm tap, it was gone.

You are so perfect. I’ve never been good enough for you, I’ll never be good enough for you.

The careful balancing of what she should want versus what she did want is what had kept her in check for all these years. No one else seemed to have the same qualms. Betty couldn’t imagine Cheryl or Veronica denying themselves a thing. In fact, she knew they wouldn’t. Veronica had talked a big game about turning over a new leaf, but after less than a week in Riverdale, Veronica had seven minutes in a closet and Betty had a box of Magnolia cupcakes.

Only Betty had the discipline to decide to be something and then become it. It had gotten harder for her to see how that was a good thing.

— —

Jughead’s interest in Betty was both a balm and a sting.

Boys had never been interested in her. She wasn’t sure if it was because word of her strict parents preceded her or because her crush on Archie was so obvious that it was not worth getting their hopes up. Whatever the reason, she had made it sixteen years without being asked to the drive-in, having a note slipped in her locker, or having rocks thrown at her window by someone who wanted to date her. She did all those things with her best friend and had become aware that it was not the same.

Until Jughead crawled through her window and gave her her first real kiss, she didn’t realize exactly how different it was.

Being on the other side of the equation was a revelation. It was amazing to think that there was someone who liked her more than anyone else, who thought about her when she wasn’t around, who wanted to kiss her and hold her hand and maybe more one day. Jughead was a good person - he was cute and smart, with a wicked sense of humor that tickled at the dark side she kept such a lid on - but what made him special is that he thought she was special. Betty had never come first to anyone before and she dove into intimacy with the same enthusiasm and determination that she put into any task.

But it was her way to acknowledge the cloud even while she focused on the silver lining. Besides her, Jughead was Archie’s best friend in the world. If other boys had avoided her due to some unspoken claim, surely he would find her to be even further off limits. If Jughead liked her, it was because Archie never would.

Somehow it was more devastating than the rejection itself. A dramatic showdown in formalwear still fit with the narrative that she had imagined for Archie-and-Betty. Power couples faced obstacles. Even after homecoming, even after Melody, even after Veronica, a part of her still though she should be patient. It was the utter lack of drama in her courtship with Jughead that made it real. There was nothing to be dramatic about.

She made her peace with it, first with her nails dug into her palms but then genuinely. The pieces of her heart felt like they were rearranging. Jughead had burst his way in and made his home right in the center. The part that housed her feelings for Archie was smaller, but the scars had made the walls thick and tough.

She would always love him and now she knew what shape it would take. She felt lucky to have enough love in her life that she could feel the difference.

It took a few months, but Betty started to think Jughead might be her soulmate. They both felt a personal obligation to clean up Riverdale’s seedy underbelly, loved books and old movies, and, most importantly, they hated the same things about her. On his lips, “perfect” was scornful. After all of those years pursuing perfection, she wasn’t too fond of it herself.

——

People gave you a wide berth in the aftermath of a showdown with a killer.

Betty was distracted and distant in the weeks following the altercation with Joseph Svenson. People around town stared and whispered even more than usual, but they looked at her with pity and awe in their eyes. Even her mother and Jughead gave her space, assuming that she was reeling after weeks of cat-and-mouse.

When she was alone, Betty didn’t think about Joseph Svenson at all. She thought about Archie Andrews.

It wasn’t about the kiss, although it was hardly the one she had scripted for them long ago. She thought about the way that he had grabbed her hand as she put the pieces together and started to spiral, the only thing tethering her to this earth. She thought about how instantly he had responded to Get in the coffin or I’ll shoot her in the head right now.

To be willing to die for someone was the kind of sweeping statement of love and dedication that was easy to say because it was so unlikely to be tested. It was reserved for the most important people in your life, the ones that you would do anything to protect. When she was in danger, Archie hadn’t batted an eye. When she closed her eyes, all she could see was him lowering himself into a coffin for her. She had been looking at that face for years and years, had known it when it had a beaming smile of mismatched baby teeth, had admired its changing angles. His jaw was clenched but his eyes were as warm as ever when the lid closed over him.

It was unbelievable to think that only weeks ago, kisses and milkshakes had made her feel special. It wasn’t fair to hold up a high school romance against the ultimate sacrifice, but the tectonic plates of her life had shifted again. It was a secret humming under her skin. It was heady to know that there was someone in the world who would do anything for you.

In a way, the showdown with the Black Hood was the most romantic night of her life. That was Riverdale for you.

— —

Betty stopped thinking about Hal Cooper almost as soon as he was locked away. She had spent so much time pouring over the Black Hood and puzzling over her family secrets that when she tried to align the man with the father, none of the pieces fit quite right anymore. After the loss of Hal and Polly, the Cooper family structure coalesced neatly around Betty and Alice as if it had always just been them.

Compartmentalizing and moving on was another discipline that Betty excelled at. Most of the time, anyway.

She thought about Fred Andrews all the time. The lights were out in Archie’s room for the first time that she could remember, but she knew that he was home. The loss was unspeakable, so she never tried.

— —

Even for someone good at compartmentalizing, it could be hard for Betty to separate the way she felt about Veronica from how she felt about Veronica Lodge.

The simple truth is that they were friends because Veronica had decided they were friends. Betty had been skeptical but a little bit flattered. She had written Veronica off at first, sure that she would move on and nestle in at Cheryl's side like two rich bitch peas in a pod, but she had persisted.

No one had ever wanted to be her friend that desperately. Despite what her frilly pink sweaters might imply, she had never been much of a girl’s girl. Her only real friends were Archie and Kevin. That had always been more than enough for her, but there was something to be said for having Veronica in her corner.

But the only person better at compartmentalizing than Betty was Veronica Lodge. Veronica could claim that she was destined to be Betty’s best friend while snatching her lifelong crush out from under her. She could disavow her family’s shady business dealings, then join Lodge Industries and keep quiet about their plans for the Southside. She could love Archie, then sit by while her father destroys his life.

Betty had been tap dancing around questions of morality for a while. One did not get to make too many principled stances when their boyfriend was a gang leader who once partially skinned a woman, and she tried not to throw too many stones from inside a house where she had once blackmailed Cheryl Blossom into testifying on behalf of FP Jones. As she started to shed more and more of her Nice Girl persona, Betty thought she had become more understanding of all the gray in the world.

In a sweltering court room after Labor Day weekend, Betty had found the thing she could never forgive. She watched stupid - noble, self-sacrificing, stupid - Archie jump at a plea deal for a crime he had not committed, all to spare them another trial. Veronica had cried and dropped her head into her hands, but Betty could still see flickers of her in Hiram Lodge’s satisfied smile.

Betty held her friend as she cried and clamped down on her latest intrusive thought - none of this would be happening if it weren’t for you. From learning to read to wrestling him from Ms. Grundy’s clutches, there had never been a problem Betty could not solve for Archie until he crossed Hiram’s path. There was nothing Betty wouldn't do for Archie, but there was nothing she could do for him now, so she averted her teary eyes and tried not to let in the darkness that always seemed so close to the surface now.

Meeting Veronica Lodge was the worst thing that had ever happened to any of them.

— —

When Betty used to dream of Archie as the leading man in every romance, she had imagined kissing him with a frequency that made her blush to think about even now.

She had been inexperienced and was not even sure what she was longing for. In her mind’s eye, she saw him in everything - the foot pop at the end of The Princess Diaries, the foggy window in Titanic, on the dock in The Notebook - hell, even Spiderman dangling upside down in the rain. It was a collage of images that she could not quite attach a sensation to, but it made her blood run a bit hotter.

When Betty tried to flesh out her fantasies, she relied on a few tangible things she did know - the smell of his cologne, which she had picked out; his increasingly hard biceps, flexing under her fingers when they linked arms on the way to school; the way his hair felt when she playfully ruffled it; the slow drag of his fingers across her back and stomach, when he was winding up to tickle her.

It was almost like an out of body experience when she flung the microphone to the ground. Betty was somewhere else in the garage as she and Archie sang, circling the microphone, their traded glances growing less playful and more searching, until he swung the guitar behind his back and reached for her.

The touch of his hand was like it had always been, the tether that held her to earth and made sure she didn’t miss a thing. Betty had never been more present. After all those years of patience and restraint, she couldn’t get close enough.

— —

There was no clear before-and-after for Archie Andrews.

He had come a long way from being the boy-next-door. He had been the star football player and the sensitive musician. He had been groomed by his music teacher and apprenticed at the foot of a mobster. He had started a youth center for the underprivileged and shattered his hand pulling Cheryl Blossom out of a frozen river. It felt like a lifetime ago that it had just been Betty and Archie in a booth at Pop’s, but Betty didn’t feel like he had changed at all. When she looked into his eyes, she saw the same person staring back at her that she always had.

When there was such a bone-deep understanding, how could she ever feel like he was different? With every step he took, she was right there too.

It dawned on Betty that maybe her before-and-after had happened long before she started looking for it. There was a Betty Cooper before she loved Archie Andrews and she had been living in the after since she was 11 years old.

She flipped through her diaries, years and years of little choices. Her next one felt big.

#fanfic #archie andrews/betty cooper #barchie #archie/betty #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #betty-centric

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purplekiwis · 4 years

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“From the Dining Table” - Chapter I

Hello everyone, I’ve been enjoying reading your fics a lot, especially now with the whole quarentine thing, they never fail to bring me joy. I thought it would be fun to start writing some myself and that’s why I created this blog. I haven’t written a fic in over 10 years ( I promise I’m not that old, I was just a very imaginative child.) Anyway, I wrote this one based of a dream I had and then I realized it reminded me a lot of Harry’s song, so I just kept on going with the theme. This is a pretty long one, it’s going to be 3 Chapters. Today I’m gonna post the first one, I hope you (whoever you are that’s reading this) enjoy it and I would be super happy to get any feedback from you.❤️

You can read Chapter II here You can read Chapter III here Word Count: 8k Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Sexual References

Summary: Friends to Lovers; Y/N is a graphic designer working at a small studio in London. She lives a pretty ordinary life, considering she also happens to be friends with an internationally known musician. Which is fine... Until she finds herself having to face the feelings she developed for her friend, who's the last person she expected to fall in love with.

Chapter I - The House Party

Today was just another typical Saturday for you. You had just got out of the shower and dressed in your “sleeping clothes” - an old t-Shirt and a pair of incredibly worn out leggings, and cooked something quick for dinner, since all the plans you had for the evening, and for the rest of the weekend were to lay around the house watching movies from your watch-list and trying to keep up with the episodes of your favorite series you had missed out during the week.

However, as you were browsing through your computer, trying to figure out what Riverdale episode you hadn’t watched yet, your phone vibrated on the bedside table. You let your head fall in your hands with a weary expression, fearing that it might be one of your clients asking for changes in the work you had just delivered 2 hours ago. You tried your hardest to ignore it, for you had already decided that you were going to save the rest of the afternoon for taking care of yourself... which was a great accomplishment since you gradually and accidentally had become a bit of a workaholic.

It wasn’t something you were proud of... but you were a proper adult now and that’s just how adultwood is. Suddenly all your friends were busy with their families (can’t relate), their partners (no, can’t relate either) and their jobs (yes, you had one of those now) and you didn’t have much else to keep you entertained, so at least you tried to do something productive with your time.

Okay, maybe it was possible that you were focusing on work to try not to think about how lonely you actually felt... Especially when you found yourself rubbing your own aching back after spending the whole afternoon sitting at your desk immersed in your work. Secretly wishing somebody else was there with you besides the faces painted in the unfinished artworks laying around your flat... that were yet to be amazing pieces of art one day, according to you.

The only problem was that you couldn’t manage to get yourself to actually finish them, or even to work on them for a couple of hours. Why? You didn’t really know.

All you knew was that there was no motivaton within you to focus on the things you had once really enjoyed doing. Maybe you were too tired to have a hobby, maybe you were already over those artworks, perhaps you didn’t even like painting anymore...

The only thing that you knew for sure of was that you had became exactly who you said you would never: A young adult working for a small company with barely any social life, let alone a stable relationship, sharing a tiny apartment with her cat and the ghosts of her past dreams and aspirations. So I guess by now it’s safe to say that you were definitely focusing on your work to forget about how boring your life had become in the last few months... Even thought you really didn’t want to look at your phone, your curiosity got a hold of you and you checked it… Only to find a text from your friend Harry. Seeing his name on your phone made your heart skip a beat, as you rolled around in bed so that you could take a better look at it. It had been a while since you spoke to Harry... mostly because he had been busy, and you had been trying to avoid bothering him. Knowing damn well he would probably much rather spend his free time doing something better with his free time, since he was always busy as a bee, jumping between countries and cities whilst working on several projects simultaneously.

You considered Harry a close friend of yours... even if you didn’t talk all the time and even ghosted each other for months on occasion, until one of you broke the silence with a text or a phone call. This time, it was Harry that texted you first...

HS: What are you up to?

You: I was just about to watch Riverdale...

H.S: What is that?

You couldn’t help but to let out a little smile. Sometimes he could still surprise you with how alienated he could be from mundane stuff. You didn’t hold it against him, you knew he had a preference for oldies when it came to the movies and music he actually payed attention to.

You decided not to bug him about it, since you were far more interested in figuring out why he was randomly texting you at 9PM on a Saturday.

You : It’s just a gross teen show. What about you?

H.S: Aren’t you a bit too old for teen shows? I’m home. Been here for a couple of days, actually.

You felt a little hurt knowing that he had been home for a while and was only letting you know now, since you were usually one of the first people he wanted to see after spending long periods of time away, even if it was just to come watch the telly and catch up over bags of take-away food. You shook off the uneasy feeling. After all it wasn’t like he owed you his free time... For all you knew, he could’ve been catching up with his other friends or even have someone far more entertaining over his house.

You : Aren’t you a bit too young to be such a grandpa?

H.S : Good news is that grandpa might actually have better plans for your night.

You felt your cheeks warm as a fuzzy feeling started in your stomach. You noticed you had been smiling at your phone whilst thinking of what his plans could be, and when you finally got back to reality your cat was blankely staring at you, making you feel aware of how stupid you must have been looking. “What? You know it’s not like that!” You exclaimed to your cat, getting a little embarassed by your own mushy thoughts.

Before you could answer his text he sent you another one.

H.S: Would you like to accompany me to this thing i have? You sat straight in your bed, but almost immidiately got up to check yourself in the mirror. Yikes, you thought. There’s no way i’m going anywhere with a face like this... In the deepest, darkest part of your brain, you added: Especially not with him. You: What thing?

H.S: It’s just a boring house party. Please come!!! I need someone to talk to.

You: If you want to convince me, maybe you should consider rethinking your use of adjectives. I’m sure you do... just like all the other parties, right? 🙄

H.S: Sorry, I meant AMAZING party!!! 😊 Also, it’s not my fault everyone likes to talk to me. You : It is. You’re too nice to them.

H.S: That’s why i need you to scare them away with your moody face! Are you coming? I already asked Claire to save you seat in the car.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, kinda wishing you had known earlier because you really looked and felt too tired (and ugly, might you add) to get out of the house. Especially to go to a party where you probably knew like, 3 people in real life besides Harry. Besides, you already knew that you would feel a bit out of place there... Because no matter how hard Harry and his friends tried to make you feel included, there was always this feeling you felt... Like everyone else was judging every single thing you did. The clothes you were wearing, the way you acted with your friends, how much booze you drinked, how many crab cakes you ate, and even how much you talked, or didn’t talk... Going to these parties had undoubtedly showed you how cold and indifferent people could be about other people’s complete existence as soon as they realized they didn’t come from the entertainment industry... Harry had tried to explain to you that they didn’t flat out dislike you... It was just that they liked to test the waters before jumping into a friendship with someone from outside the industry, since most of them had already been through bad experiences when it came to that topic.

Y/N had never really ate that one up, but she decided it wasn’t worth the fuss of sharing her opinion out loud. She still remebered the first event she attended to with Harry, and how he and his friends had tried to give her advise on what she should and shouldn’t do... Something she hadn’t taken very well at the time, because it wasn’t like she didn’t know how to behave herself at a party just for being considered an “outsider”. She had been to lots of parties. Smaller ones, yes. With cheaper beverage options and far unhealthier selections of finger foods she could nibble guiltlessly on, but they were still parties nonetheless...

Luckily for you, people were starting to get used to your occasional presence at their informal house events, and you managed to get along with the majority of Harry’s mates as well, what made you feel a little more confortable... However you still always got a bit nervous before going, especially when you hadn’t seen everyone in a while, which was the case that time around...

You : I feel like i could fall asleep at any given moment, so i think i’ll have to pass this one out 😔 but maybe tomorrow we could do something?

He took a while to reply, making you wonder if he got upset at you for not wanting to go, or if he was already asking another one of his friends if they would like to go in your place... You didn’t know what option you liked the best. Eventually, you got tired of holding your phone so you put it down, a little too harshly, what made your cat tremble with the noise. “Sorry Tilly.” You whispered, as your pet got up and curled up in your lap, while you petted her gently behind her ears. “Maybe it’s better this way… right?” You asked, mostly to yourself.

Suddently you heard your phone ringing. Harry was calling you. You got up in a jump and grabbed the phone, what led to an unpleasant scratch from Tilly in your thigh. Before picking up, you stared at the screen for a few seconds, just so he didn’t think you were impatiently waiting for his reply. Yes, you were petty like that sometimes.

“Hey!”

“Hello loser!” The raspyness of his voice caught you by surprise, making you shiver. You’d almost forgot how good it sounded.

“No one uses that word anymore.”

“Who cares?” “Good point. Hm, listen… I hope you’re not mad at me for not going...” “What? You really thought I was gonna give up on you that easily?” “Oh, stop it! I’m not going! Besides, even if I wanted to go, what would I wear? I literally have like ze-” You stopped your rambling, realizing he was singing something to you over the phone, you didn’t recognize it at first, but then you realized where it was from.

“You're a mean one Mr. Grinch. You really are a heeeel… You're as cuddly as a cactus! You're as charming as an eel! Mr. Griiiinch… You're a bad banana with a… Greasy black peeeeel!”

It was a song from the last movie you had seen together when he had came home for the holidays. How The Grinch Stole Christmas. He was singing it to mock you by your choice of words, that reminded him of a particular scene of the movie. The way he was messing up the song with his gibberish made you laugh. Eventually both your laughs and his singing faded, leaving you with a huge smile on your face. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” You asked.

“Well, thank you. Now... As a way of thanking me for my… astonishing performace, you must come party with us.”

“You’ve got some nerve coming at me with that crap after you’ve abandoned me for... how long was it again? two months?”

“Hey... I’m trying to redeem myself here!” “Good! As you should.”

“Is that a yes? Please...? You’re not going to say no to me, are you?”

“It’s a maybe... a highy dependant on me finding something to wear type of maybe. First of all, is it like…fancy?”

“Hmm, not really… I think!? You never really know with these parties.”

“Trust me, I’m aware.” There was a brief silent pause on Harry’s side of the phone, as you as you rummaged through your clothes. “What are you going to wear anyway?”

“Don’t know yet. Probably like, some pants… boots… and a shirt?” Harry’s vague description didn't help whatsoever, but you were far too busy trying to disenchant a decent outfit to make light of his words. “Okay!” There was a lot of shuffling from your side, making his eyebrows furrow on the other side the line, despite your lack of knowledge. “I think I may have just found my nice pants, but I don’t know if I have a nice blouse that goes with them... or one that is fitted for the occasion. Why am I so boring with my clothes? I need to invest in a better wardrobe asap…” “You can always come by mine and borrow a shirt… Ya know, If you don’t want to stand out too much.”

“Not standing out by wearing your clothes? Now that’s funny!” “I’m sure you’ll find something wearable...”

“Are you serious? You would let me borrow your clothes?”

“Sure. If you want to.”

“I don’t know… I’m scared I’ll rip them or something.”

“I mean, I like my clothes... but it’s not like I would kill you or myself if something bad happened to them.” “You’re so humble and reasonable Mr. Styles… How did you stay like that?” You could hear him briefelly laugh at your provocation. “I’m serious! besides, I secretly always want to know how my clothes fit on different people.”

“I’m not trying to spoil it for you but probably not that good... Mostly because I’m female shaped so they won’t fit me properly… Also, I’m not sure if you’re aware but you have this gift-” “Oh, shut up! You can pull anything off.” He cut you off before you could either compliment him or put yourself down. “As long as you love it.” “We’ll see about that.” You challenged, noticeably way less hopeful than he was. “I’ll see you in… an hour and half? Is that a good time?”

“Do you want me to ask someone to pick you up?” “I’m good, thank you...” You answered, wasting little time mulling over your friend’s proposal. “But I would happily accept a parking spot in your garage…” You added suggestively, knowing he wouldn’t say no. “Sure! Anything for you.” “Thank you!” “You’re very welcome.” “Okay, well... I better go and get ready now or I’m going to show up late.” “Alright, I need to go get ready as well. See you soon. Drive safe!” “Always do.” It took you a bit more than na hour to get ready, what meant you were already running a little late, since Harry’s house was more than half an hour drive away.

You were wearing one of your favorite “going out” pants, they were black, high-waisted, carrot fitted and overwhelmingly confortable. You went for other one of your favorite pieces - a yellow silk blouse, just in case you ended up not fitting properly in any of Harry’s shirts.

You paired your outfit with oval style ankle boots you’d just recently acquired. I already know I’m going to regret this decision, you thought whilst putting them on.

You had also decided to change into a matching set of lingerie just because you never know what can happen, right? and also partially because you knew you’d be changing at Harry’s, and god forbid he actually saw anything but if he did, at least it wouldn’t be your granny underwear. You put on a neutral makeup look, throwing a couple of lipsticks into your purse, just so you could decide which one to wear depending on the color of the shirt. Finally, you put on a bit of perfume and grabbed your jacket, taking a final look in the mirror, staring at yourself from different angles. “I guess that’s about as good as it’s gonna get.” You mumbled to your reflection.

Before leaving the house, you kissed and petted your cat goodbye, however she didn’t respond to your affection since she was already asleep on top of the clothes you had just carelessly thrown on top of the bed.

You got in your car and drove off, thirty four minutes later you were turning into Harry’s street and stopping the car in front of the condominium’s gate.You took your phone out of your purse and rang him, he picked up almost immediately.

“You’re here?” “Yeah, I’m already at the gate.” “Okay, let me open it for you and I’ll be down in a second.” “Okay, thank you.” The call dropped and the large metal gate started to move, you slowly drove your way into the condo, trying to remember where the entrance to his garage was.

You didn’t have to think too hard, because a few seconds later one of the garage doors started to open and you could see a pair of impecable black leather boots that merged with the bottom of burgundy flares. Yup, no need for more searching, You thought.

You stopped the car, waiting for the gate to fully open for what seemed like an eternity, but it gave you time to fully appreciate the man that was slowly revealing himself in front of you.

You could start to see his top half now, he was wearing a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, uncovering his tattooed arms. The top buttons were undone, exposing the cross necklace he always wore, he was also wearing another necklace you hadn’t seen before, his hands were hidden in his pockets, but you already knew that they would be adorned with multiple rings of all shapes and sizes. What a show off, was the tought that came to mind once his whole outfit was revealed, but you had to admit that you wouldn’t have him any other way...

Finally his head showed up, and he was wearing a big smile on his face.

“Hey you! Better hurry up before this thing closes on you.” You were so lost in his smile that you accidentally let your car die, but you were quick to start it again and as he walked aside you pulled into the garage.

When you finished parking, you got out of the car, being immediately greeted by Harry’s arms that wrapped you in a tight hug. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes to fully enjoy the moment. He smelled like his characteristic cologne, but since your head was pressed against his shoulder, you could also smell the fabric softner on his shirt and his deodorant.

“You smell nice.” You mumbled under your breath. “So do you.” He replied swiftly, resting his chin on the top of your head. He walked you to the elevator and you went up to his apartment. After many minutes of catching up in the living room he led you to his bedroom, where his closet was. “It’s a bit messy in here, I’ve been meaning to organize it, but I haven’t really had the time.” The boy said before opening its door.

You tried not to look mesmerized by the amount of clothing in front of you, because you knew that one of the things Harry hated the most was when people perceived him as shallow or vain. Luckily, most people could tell straight away that his love for fashion had a greater meaning for him than to just look nice... And even when they didn’t, it only took them about seconds of conversation with him to realize how much of a ducky and kind person he truly was. Also, fairly recently he had been getting a lot of praise for his bold fashion choices, what led to a bit of over enthusiasm from his main stylists’s part and himself when it came to investing in it.

“I promise I actually wear most of these...” He justified himself, noticing the enthralled expression you genuinely believed you were managing to disguise.

“Oh, don’t mind me!” You giggled. “I’m just slightly overwhelmed by the number of choices before me.” “Well, take all the time you need.” Harry smiled, sitting over the edge of his bed and unlocking his phone to check the time. It was already past midnight. As you finally gained courage to start going through his clothes, he let his back fall on the bedspread with a sigh and stared at the ceiling, and that’s when you decided you couldn’t possibly not try to mess with him a little bit. “Stupid… Ugly… Out of date…” (Reference (01:20-01:24)

“Hey! Stop it, will you?!” He sat up again, supporting his upper body with his elbows that rested firmly on his lap. “Have you found my dress yet?”

You peeked through the open closet to with a curious expression on your face. “No… Where is it?” you asked, disappearing behind the door and enthusiastically searching his closet for the item, suddently grabbing something that kinda looked like a dress, yet kinda looked like a curtain. “Is this it?” You asked, stepping out of the closet, holding the hanger in front of you.

“It’s not a dress, it’s a kilt... Sicko!” (Reference (01:13-01:18)

“Really? You had that one coming for a long time didn’t you?” You disdainfully smiled, shaking your head in disapproval. You could tell from his little smirk that he was proud of successfully tricking you into his joke. “Yeah, I was hoping you would find it and ask about it, but you didn’t so I had to find a way to deliver the line anyway.”

“Okay, but for real why do you have a wedding dress in your closet?” You turned the hanger to see the strange garment from the front.

“Cause I’m cool like that.”

“You know what? It’s actually not as ugly as it seemed at first sight...”

“Well, I would hope so ‘cause it was bloody expensive.” At the sound of his words you were quick to carefully hang it back in it’s place, gently rubbing the fabric to avoid any crinkles.

You kept looking through his clothes and ended up finding a almost sheer shirt that you liked. It was rusty orange with a psychadelic flower pattern that looked quite unique. Taking advantage of the fact that Harry was laying down and distracted on his phone and freed yourself of your blouse in a swift motion, trying on his shirt on as fast as you could. It fitted you quite nicely to your surprise. “So, have you found anything you like yet?” Your friend asked, with his eyes still stuck on his phone.

“Actually yes, but I could use your help… How would you style this?” He sat up again and focused his attention on you. “How come you end up finding the one shirt I don’t actually remember owning?”

He admired you from the bed, letting is head fall to the side a bit, you could feel his eyes stuck on your figure, what made you feel a bit unconfortable and insecure about your body. His expression changed as he got up and walked towards you, making a little circle around you and finally stopping right in front of you. “May I?” He asked, reaching for the shirt.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You lifted your arms slightly so they wouldn’t get on his way. Carefully, he started adjusting the shirt, slipping it inside your pants and gently pulling it out, until it fell down in a natural way.

You could feel the warmth of his hands on your skin through the fabric, what caused your breathing to get a little heavy and out of your throat came a peculiar husky sound. Luckily, he was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even acknowledged it.

Feeling a bit flustered due to his proximity, you decided to break the silence. “You look so different now that you cut your hair…”

“Well, isn’t that kind of the point of changing your hair? Why are you complaining? Do you not find me cute anymore?” “Who lied to you and told you I ever thought you were cute?” Harry looked up at you with disdainful expression once his green eyes met yours. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer by the second. “Well you’re wrong because I am, in fact, very attractive.” He looked down again and undid one of the buttons of the shirt, what left a bit of the black lace of your bra showing. “What are you doing?” You asked in a startled tone. “Just trust me.” “Umm… Fine, I guess.” You shrugged as he stepped back to admire his work. His focused expression broke into a proud smile as he moved to the side, uncovering the mirror just so you could see yourself. You looked hot, there’s no other way to put it. The color of the shirt complimented your skin tone beautifully, as well as the golden necklace that fell over your chest in a sensual way, capturing attention to your stripped neckline. “You look cuter than me, I can't have that... Come on, we’re switching. Take it off, now.” Your handsome friend complained in a frisky tone, grabbing at the hem of his shirt as if he was about to pull it off. “I could never…” You challenged, feeling quite shy after his compliment. “Well, apparently you can.” “You look amazing though...” You complimented back. “Love the pants.” “Really? I think they make my ass look weird sometimes.” The boy confessed, turning around so you could check his bottoms. “I think your ass’s great.” You kind of regretted the conviction you uttered that sentence with. “I mean… in those pants.”

Harry sighed playfully. “I was enjoying the compliment, why did you have to ruin it?”

“Fine, you can take the compliment then.” You granted easily. “Shouldn’t we get going? I’m sure it’s pretty late already…” “Ready?” “Yes, let me just…” You ran to your purse, picking one of the lipsticks you had brought with you, applying it in front of the mirror while the charming man shoved his essential belongings into the pockets of his matching blazer and put it on, completing the look. You noticed he was observing you with curiosity as you tinted your lips in a dark shade of brick orange. “Let’s go missy.” The boy rushed as you locked eyes with him through the mirror. **

Even though you offered to drive to Claire’s house, he insisted on taking his car because he hadn’t driven in a while and wanted to before he got “rusty”. As he was driving, you inquired him about who was hosting the party you were going to, since all he’d told you was that you were meeting your friends at Clare’s house and from there you would share a car, so that the whole group would get there together.

To your surprise, when faced with your question he got quiet and you noticed his expression changing, he briefely took his eyes off the road to look at you and you could practically see the guilt in this face. “What is it?” You asked, wondering what he could be acting so weird about.

“Hum yeah, about that…” He began to stammer, keeping his eyes stuck to the road.

“Just tell me it’s not what I think it is.” “Before you say anything, I know you’ll probably want to kill me right now…” “Harry!” “I knew you wouldn’t have come if I told you... It’s going to be fun, I promise! She’s not as bad as you think she is.” “No Harry!” You fretted. “You know what? Just stop the car, I want to go home.”

“Well, I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”

“I’m not kidding Harry.” “I’m not dropping you off in the middle of the fucking freeway.”

“Yes you are!” “No, I’m not.” He kept driving and you let your body slip through the seat, crossing your arms in silence, resenting him for almost five minutes while he tried to convince you of how Alexa was way nicer than you thought and that she wasn’t really a bitch, it was just that her sense of humor could be a little off-putting sometimes. The way he was defending her made you feel even angrier, even though you weren’t really listening.

In your head all you could think about was all the times you had the unpleasant surprise of bumping into Alexa. She was such a bitch! Always finding a way to put you down and make you feel embarassed. She even came up with a stupid nickname for you at Harry’s birthday party that she always made sure to use, even though she must’ve known you hated it. “Just so you know, when we get to Claire’s I’m getting a cab and going home.”

“Fine.” He jerked his shoulders dismissively. “If you want to miss out on a great time with our friends, it’s up to you.” “When she’s there it’s never really a good time for me so I guess I’m good.” “Come on…” Harry huffed, shifting his gaze off to road for a moment to check on his muddled friend. “Everyone was so excited to see you...” You were mad that he lied to you, but you were madder that you had gotten all dressed up and now you weren’t going. You also missed your mutual friends and hanging out with them. You kept weighting the pros and the cons throughout the rest of the drive, and when you got to Claire’s house, after a little convincing from the group, you decided you were not going to let the fact that it was Alexa’s party ruin the night for you.

You were still mad at Harry though. And having to go on another car trip with him, feeling his body pressing up against yours whenever there was a turnabout, wasn’t making it easy for you to keep your cool.

As you finally got to Alexa’s house you could tell the house was packed by the number of cars parked outside, making you feel relieved you had a driver, because if you had to find a place to park it would’ve been a nightmare.

There was a group of people lining up, and as you got closer you noticed two men by the door checking for the guests names on a list. You started to get worried that your friends might have omitted to Alexa that you were going, since you were almost certain that your presence wouldn’t please her any better than it did to you. You eyed their faces, looking for any sign of concern, however they seemed calm.

As you walked the line, you started to get more and more nervous, ending up momentarily swallowing your pride and pulling at Harry’s sleeve, in hopes of getting his attention without the rest of the group noticing. “Does Alexa know I’m coming to her party?” You asked as quietly as you could.

“Of course she does! I told her myself.”

“What did she say?”

He didn’t get to answer your question because he was approached by the doorkeeper, that asked him for his name. Harry politely greeted him before answering his question and being such a gentleman, he provided the names of the other members of the group.

The doorkeeper checked the names on the list and to your surprise your name was actually there. He allowed the group to get inside. All of you murmuring a brief “thank you” as you walked past the big guy.

The door led to a giant lounge style living room, that seemed to be where the focus of the party was. To your right, there were three big windows, each with it’s own balcony, where small groups of people gathered to enjoy a smoke and the beautiful view of the city. In the middle of the room there was an open dance space, demarked by an enormous persian carpet, that was still pretty empty despite the fact the DJ was already playing.

Behind the dance area there were two long tables, practically stuffed with different types of alcoholic beverages. It had to be one of the most diverse open bars you had ever seen at a house party. From the ceiling fell party ribbons and lights, and the walls were adorned with baloons and paper decorations. You tried to decipher the color of the objects around you, but it was almost impossible due to the color changing lights that provided an hallucinogenic athmosphere to the space.

You looked around, trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. As your eyes scanned the place, they found couple of familiar faces, but they froze at a well-known face in the kitchen.

There was Alexa… She was sitting over the counter, scrolling on her phone. Her glossy lips rested on the edge of the paper cup she was holding. The light from the screen illuminated her face, making her glittery eyeshadow pop behind the thick lashes that she was wearing. She was dressed in a two-toned metallic mini dress and knee-high platform boots. You could tell from her expression that she was distressed about something. Her stillness gave you the opportunity to study her face. Her features were quite angelical, something you had never noticed before.

The sound of something scattering on the kitchen floor woke her up from her daydream as she turned around to curse at whoever opened the kitchen cabinet. Yup, there’s the bitch, You mused to yourself.

She jumped off the counter and walked out of the kitchen, making her way around the groups of people that were chattering by the door. She walked around the living room, trying to greet the people she hadn’t seen yet.

Your eyes briefly met hers before she approached your friends. They went for a group hug, in which you didn’t participate. Instead, you awkwardly stared at them while they hugged and chatted. Harry looked back at you, encouraging you to join them with an eye motion, you let out a sigh and moved closer to the group, what caught Alexa’s attention. “Hi Nutmeg! I haven’t seen you in a hot minute…” She greeted you by kissing the air next to your cheek, before looking you up and down. “I see you’ve upgraded your closet... It was about time.” The beautiful girl remarked, focusing her attention on the shirt you were wearing.

You found yourself side-eyeing Harry, trying your hardest to ignore her taunting words. “I swear I’ve seen that somewhere... what brand is it?” Her question startled you. Prompting your head to tilt towards Harry, realizing he had mirrored the gesture to stare at you. You stood there staring at each other, both of you wishing you could read his mind. “Is there something I’m missing?” Alexa questioned, suspicious of your odd behaviour.

“No, not at all!” Harry was quick to intervene. “I’m gonna go for a drink, anyone wants to join me?” He suggested, clearly attempting to brush off the topic.

“I’ll go get the drinks.” You volunteered, taking the chance to escape and ditch Alexa’s question.

“Will you get me some jack and coke?” The girl requested, handing you her freshly empty cup. “Thanks.” She added when you grabbed it from her hand. It was probably the only time you actually felt pleased to fix Alexa a drink. “Harry, what do you want?” You called his attention back to you, upon realizing he was already engaged into conversation with someone you didn’t know.

“Double Tequila, please.” You raised your brows at his choice of beverage. Already knowing that when he started the night with Tequila he would, most likely, end up drunk out of his mind. But you didn’t bother to try to coarce him into switching to something else. “Do you need an extra hand?” He offered out of politeness.

“It’s fine, I’m sure I can handle it.” You spat as you left, not wanting to interrupt his conversation again.

As the night went on, people started to gather mainly around the dance space, that was proving itself to be a little too small for the large amount of people using it. You were having a good time, but you were definitely not enjoying the feeling of getting rubbed all over by everyone around you. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered whatsoever. And as you predicted, he was already pretty out of it, prancing around the place and carelessly engaging into conversation with everyone who approached him, including people you knew he shit talked behind their back... The fake little bitch...

You tried not to care, but you couldn’t keep yourself from constantly checking on him to see what he was up to. You weren’t the only one who couldn’t keep your eyes away from him.. What wasn’t unnusual, since he was such a natural attention-grabber. Howbeit, there were several girls and boys that were practically drooling at the sight of him. That wasn’t new either, but it didn’t make it any less annoying...

When the boy finally made his way back to the group, he tried to convince you to dance with him by grabbing your hand and making you spin for him. You graciously brushed him off. Mostly out of shyness, persuading him into asking your friend John instead. He agreed on the spot... And once he finally managed to get his friend to bend at his will, they got everyone laughing and cheering, encouraging them to keep up with the tango dance moves. But it wasn’t long until the two boys had enough of the attention, laughing it off and joining the group again.

Then a figure rose above the crowd. It was Alexa, who has just stood up on a table holding a microphone in her hand that she was slowly tapping on, attempting to grab everyone’s attention. “Hello, hello, hello my magnificent friends. How is everyone feeling tonight?” She asked, earning a loud cheer from the crowd, that she encouraged by clapping silently before speaking again. “Alright, alright... can y’all can shut the fuck up now? …I just wanted to say that I hope everyone is getting drunk and having a great time. You know me, I gotta be real with you… There are some people here I’d much rather had stayed home, but you know what? You don’t really bother me.” The girl shrugged haughtily. “With that said, I’d like to propose a toast to every single one of you motherfuckers that came to my party. Cheers, bitches!” She yelled the last two words, emptying her cup in a single swig while the crowd cheered and downed their own cups along with the host.

The fact that Alexa let you in had given you the impression that maybe Harry was right about her, but her speech left a bad taste in your mouth and made you wonder if you were one of the people she was talking about, you were almost certain you were. “What did you say earlier about her being a nice person?” You ironically asked Harry, that was standing right beside you.

Your eyes were still stuck on her as you wondered if she would manage to get down from the table without falling. You secretly hoped she wouldn’t.

He failed to answer your question, so you turned to him. Only to realize that he wasn’t there anymore. Your eyes quickly danced around the room, searching for your missing friend, and unfortunatly it wasn’t long until they found him...

Your whole body went cold, feeling your heart sink in your chest. Your vision felt blurry, and there was a complicated knot forming at the tip of your stomach. There he was. Barely six feet away from you. With his back flush against a wall and his lips pressed harshly on somebody else’s. His hands gently caressed up the other boy’s back, that had his hands firmly clutched onto your friend’s hair and the back of his neck.

You felt like your whole world was crashing down in front of you.

Whilst everyone around you was enjoying themselves, all you wanted to do was collapse to your knees and scream your confusing pain away, but you couldn’t. There was nothing you could do and it just fucking hurt.

You’d always known it would eventually happen... But nothing could ever prepare you for the feeling of watching the person you love fondling somebody else.

In the middle of your agony, you noticed a pair of hazel eyes staring right at you from distance, breaking your attention from the heartbreaking scene. “Yo... What the fuck?!” You couldn’t hear her words, but you could read them clearly through the motion of her lips. She looked completely baffled by the state of you.

You stepped back, attempting your best to muffle into the crowd, but it was too late... You were certain she’d saw the devastated look on your face, and the glistening tear that rolled down your cheek afterwards.

You turned your back on the scene and pushed through the crowd, hidding your face as you stumbled upon almost everyone on your way to the bathroom. You locked yourself inside and leaned against the door, finally letting it all out as you sobbed uncontrollably and allowed for your body to slide down the surface, until your knees met the cold marble floor.

A unexpected loud banging on the door startled you. “It’s occupied.” Y/N shouted, in the most composed voice she could fabricate.

“It’s Alexa... open the door.” The girl shouted back impatiently.

“Fuck off Alexa!” You could feel your blood boil and your hands trembling at the mere sound of her voice. “Just leave me alone, will you?”

There was silence for a moment, before she banged on the door harder. You tried to ignore it because considering your state, at the slighest provocation you’d probably lose it and punch her in the face. “Don’t be a fucking bitch, I’m here to help.” Alexa shouted again, but it was pointless. “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll have to ask someone to kick the door down...”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“It’s my house. What are you going to do about it?” She challenged, knowing you couldn’t fight her on that. “You have three seconds… one...two…” You flang the door open before she could finish her countdown, causing her to tremble ever so slightly. “Quite the charm, aren’t you?” She sighed satirically, making her way inside the bathroom while fixing her dress. You noticed she was holding a bottle of Bacardi rum, that she promptly opened and handed to you. You stood there perplexedly looking at her, trying to figure out what her intentions were. “Are you going to take it or not?” At that, you abruptly grabbed the bottle from her hand and took it to your lips, taking a big chug and giving it back with a disgusted expression caused by the intense alcohol sting. Alexa took the bottle to her lips as well, but unlike you, her face didn’t even flinch. “What did you come here for?” The sharpness of your tone led her into giving you a dirty look “What do you think? That I came in here to make fun of you?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.” “Just thought you could use a friend...” She explained, jumping on her bum to sit on the countertop. “And luckily for you, so do I.”

“Judging by the number of people outside, I’m sure you have plenty of friends.”

She let out a silent wheeze at your guess. “Everything isn’t always what it seems, Nutmeg… I have people that keep me company, but when it comes down to the real shit, I have no one I can count with really…”

“I’m finding that quite hard to believe if I’m honest…” “I know you are. So is everyone else. They all assume my life is just perfect. After all, I have everything, don’t I? I don’t blame them... I know I can be cruel and bitter sometimes, but I’m not the cold-hearted, super confident bitch everyone thinks that I am.” “Why are you telling me all that?”

“I don’t know… Maybe ‘cause I’m drunk and lonely and you’re one of the few people here that I actually like…” You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “You’re messing with me, right?” She, on the other hand, seemed rather confused by your apprehensiveness. “I appreciate people like you... Who manage to stay true to themselves despite hanging out with these people. It’s so easy to lose yourself in this environment... But I don’t think you did, and I can appreciate that.”

“I’m just lucky to have good friends... If they were different, I don’t know if I’d stayed so nice and humble.”

As the silence settled, you took the chance to sit down on the edge of her expensive looking bathtub. “So… changing the subject. You and Harry, what’s the deal?”

“What do you mean?” You pretended you didn’t know what she was implying, hoping she would let go of the topic.

“I’m not stupid. I saw the way you looked when he was all over that guy… I confess I had no idea that you were into him. I thought you liked girls, I could almost swear he had told me that.” Her words made your stomach twist, and Alexa didn’t miss your distressed expression. “Sorry... I’m not very good with words. I didn’t mean to make it worse.” The girl added, trying to make up for her cold stance. “Here...” She handed you back the bottle, and you agreeably to a swig from it. “Does he know?”

“I don’t think so...” “I don’t mean to be unpleasant but I think he thinks you’re a lesbian.” “Yeah, I know… he’s not completely wrong, I guess.” “So, you’re bi?” “I don’t really know what I am.” “Oh, it’s okay. You don’t have to be anything, you can just be… yourself!” You locked eyes with her, briefely smiling at her motivational words “How long have you fancied him for?”

“I don’t know...” You stared down at your own feet. “Thinking back, I guess I always kind of have... but it’s complicated. So I just hoped it would go away with time... Besides, you’ve seen the people he gets with. They’re all gorgeous, and I... I mean, I don’t really meet the standards, do I?” “And how’s that working out for you?” You went quiet, since you didn’t really have a good answer to give. “Okay, here’s what I think you should do. First of all, you gotta stop with the self loathing. It’s depressing and outdated. You’re just as valid as everyone else.”

“It’s not self loathing. You don’t understand… What if he pushes me away? I really care for our friendship and I don’t want to throw it all away because of a stupid crush.” “A stupid crush? Didn’t you just say you’ve always liked him? How long have you known eachother for? Three years?” “Well… Two and half, but it’s not like I’ve been waiting for him… I’ve had my fair share of relationships and so did he, I never did anything to change that. Why would I start now?” “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re at a party, locked inside a bathroom, crying over him, while he’s out there screwing somebody else.” “God, you’re certainly are awful with words aren’t you?” “I take pride in my honesty.” She stated. “Look, all I can say is that I think this whole “crush” situation is, obviously, far more than a crush... And you know I’m right so don’t even bother to deny it. Therefore, I think it’s long overdue that you do something about how you feel, otherwise you’re just gonna be stuck wondering on the what ifs forever, watching him live his life while you’re unable to move on with your yours, and you deserve better than that. Anyone deserves better than that.” “It’s just… scary.” “Isn’t everything worth trying always somewhat scary at first?” You ended up spending the rest of the night with Alexa. Sitting inside her large empty bathtub, sharing your shittiest life experiences and drowning your sorrows with the bottle of rum. She told you about her crazy ex-boyfriend, and how he had been making her life a living hell since their break up. Showing up uninvited at her work, her parties, and practically everywhere she went, despite her telling him time and time again to stop and leave her alone. You advised her the best you could, but as you expected, she was pretty stubborn and acted as if she had everything under control, even though she clearly did not. The night had taken a unexpected turn for you, however, at least there was something positive you could also take from it, that being the friendship that was beggining to fluorish between you and Alexa.

You were so deep in conversation that you completely lost track of time, so much that you finally felt tired and decided to check you phone for the time, it was already 6AM.

You had seven missed calls and fifteen text messages from your friends asking where you were, if you were okay and if you were still leaving with them. You realized they had probably already left, so you just apologized for leaving early and informed them that you were fine. When you and Alexa got out of the bathroom, there were still a couple of people hanging around, but as expected, the vast majority had already left.

The light coming from the windows hurt your tired eyes and your bottom half was hurting from spending so many hours sitting inside a bathtub. By that time, all you wanted to do was go home, take a shower and take a nap to make up for the all nighter you pulled, but then you remembered…

“Shit!”

“What?”

“I left my car at Harry’s house.”

I hope you’re enjoying it so far! Chapter II is hereeee!

#one direction #one direction imagines #one direction imagine #one direction x reader #1d #solo 1d #harry styles #solo harry #"harr #harry #harry styles fic #harry styles fine line #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction

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soyforramen · 4 years

Note

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

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

One:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Four:

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

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

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

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

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

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

#varchie #varchie fanfiction

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starrybumbles · 4 years

Text

Home Sweet Home

CHAPTER 1: Riverdale

Sweet Pea x Reader

Canon-Divergence.

Summary: In a world so big, how were you stuck in such a tiny town?

Word Count : 1877

Author’s Note: Hi guys! This is my first piece of writing I’m putting out so hopefully it’s good lol. I’m not even caught up with Riverdale tbh, and that’s bc there’s so little Sweet Pea. Back to the point though, I would love your guys’ review on this (:

Moving away from California was the last thing you wanted to do. It was your home- your safe place. So many good things happened there and now... it was miles away. The trees blurred into a green blob, right up until you decided to focus on one. Then it seemed to go in slow motion. A sigh escaped your lips, eyes flickering up to the rearview mirror. The backseat- along with the trunk- was filled with your bags. It left little room to actually use the mirror for what it’s meant for. But then again, no one was rushing to stay at the ‘town with pep’. (It was anything but.)

“It’ll be fine.” Your mom’s hand came to rest on your own. “Think of this as a fresh start.”

“I didn’t want a fresh start.”

There was a pause. The words had flown out faster than you could stop them. They left a bad taste in your mouth- complaining wasn’t something you liked to do. This whole move wasn’t your mom’s fault; people were shit and liked to shit on others. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know what you’re feeling. But I really do think you’ll be happier here.”

As another silence hung over you both, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was true. Your life back in California was like a dream. You had a good group of friends, a best friend, and a place where you felt good and safe. It was a scene ripped right from the movie screen. But heading to Riverdale gave you a whole new perspective and you couldn’t say you liked it.

The sun beat down your back as you pulled the rest of the suitcases out of the trunk. You could already feel the sweat building up on your neck. Even in Riverdale you couldn’t beat Summer’s heat- go figure. With three bags in your left and a suitcase in your right, you stepped back to let your mom shut the trunk. Your eyes wandered over to the park’s sign, dingy from years of standing.

Sunnyside Trailer Park. Low Rates- No Pets- Swimming Pool.

A painted sun beamed with yellow and red rays right above the words. A line, the same shade of red, ran right through the second set below.

Many times you’ve been here through the years and you couldn’t say anything has changed. A small smile spread across your face. The outside of the trailers were tinged with dust and dirt. Only one mattered, though, and that one was just a few feet away. A little wooden staircase leads up to the door. Trash bins were lined up on the left, while an isolated box stood on the other. It was familiar- so familiar you already knew what the inside looked like. But it wasn’t home.

You walked up to the box and lifted a lawn gnome, grimacing at the rust on it. It was such an obvious place to hide a key. Your mother walked up behind you, groaning about how she should have thrown away more shoes. ( “You never know if I need them,” she’d said.)

You trudged up the stairs and opened the door, settling your luggage to the side. To your right was the living room, set with all the essentials. To the left was the kitchen. You purse your lips before turning.

“Hey, mom,” you called out. “You think uncle would mind if I munched on something?”

Her voice echoed from the bathroom. “I don’t think so! Just munch, though. I think we should go to Pop’s and get something.”

With that, you practically ran towards the kitchen. The cool air of the fridge hit you, a sigh of relief escaping. The feeling quickly fell as you saw nothing in there that would satisfy your hunger. You’d thought the fridge would be stocked considering your cousin was such a foodie. How did he get by like this? You closed the door, puffing out at the disappointment. Guess you’d have to wait for diner food. “So, uh.. when exactly are we going there?”

You watched your mom round the corner. “Soon. Uncle will be here soon.”

And, low and behold, your uncle walked through the door within the next few minutes. He wore a tired grin as he opened his arms toward you. Stepping away from the fridge, you wrapped your arms around him. His stubble scratched the top of your head. You murmured a little hello and your uncle returned it. That smile was still on his face as he greeted your mom.

“It’s good to see you, Forsythe.”

“Why don’t you ever use FP?” He groaned, holding her at arm's length. “I hate that name.”

“Well, it's your name.” She rolled her eyes, patting his shoulder. Your mom was the older one out of the two and she made sure everyone knew.

Despite the complaints from FP, you knew he wasn’t that bothered by it. Family was everything with you guys, even when you lived across the country. The constant contact with each other over the years kept that bond strong. It made you wish being here was under different circumstances.

The two adults shared a look before nodding. Your eyes shifted to the half empty coffee pot on the stove, left untouched since the morning. Of course your uncle knew about what happened in California. You figured the talk would happen later- out of earshot for you. A part of you hoped you’d be included, while another didn’t want to talk about it.

A buzzing noise reached your ears. You fumbled to get your phone from the back of your pocket. The screen lit up, soliciting a smile at the text. B/F Name, your best friend, had been texting you since you left. You missed her a lot. Never have you been so far away. Biting your lip, your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you responded. Maybe you would call her later if she wasn’t busy.

“Y/n, fix yourself. We’re gonna leave.”

You nodded without looking up at your mom and moved to the only bathroom in the trailer. The text was sent with a ‘ttyl’.

Looking in the mirror, you locked eyes with your reflection. Bags hung under your eyes. They weren’t noticeable unless you were trying to spot them. You ran a hand over your face, taking a deep breath. Fresh start- that’s what this was. A new page to write whatever you wanted. You clicked your tongue, then sighed.

_____________

Make the most of this, you thought, and nodded at your reflection before throwing the door open.

The smell of burgers hit you as soon as the three of you entered. Despite its years, Pop’s looked as good as ever. The floor was checkered with black and grey, the booths a bright red with silver padding covering the top. On the walls were several decorations, many being old photos. Even the people here fit the fifties-esque aesthetic of the diner.

At the register, your mom stood with your uncle, waving you over. A smile graced her lips, her hand reaching out to place itself on your back. Behind the metal table was a big man wearing an apron and a hat that had Pop’s Chock’Lit Shoppe printed on both. His smile reflected your mom’s. It took you a second before recognizing him.

“Well, if it isn’t little Y/n L/n. Look at you all grown up.” His voice was as warm as an apple pie fresh out of the oven.

You returned his smile, waving at Pop before shoving it back into the pocket of your jeans. “Hi. Been a few years,” you said.

“It certainly has. I’m glad to see you back.”

Pop nodded to both you and your mom before ushering you to find a seat. You followed the two adults down the line, feeling a bit awkward as you trailed behind. You could feel stares of other customers as you passed by. You kept your eyes trained ahead.

Pop had come by to take your orders and within that time, you found that your uncle worked there in his free time.

“So I’m hearing free milkshakes?” You grinned, eyebrows shooting up.

Your mom snorted. “Or maybe she could get a job and pay for them.”

FP nodded, pointing a finger at her. You gave them both accusatory glances.

“I’d like an extra hand around here.”

“It’s not like I wouldn’t try to get hired, but we just moved here! I need a little time to adjust.”

You slumped against the seat, and picked up a fry. Working at Pop’s didn’t sound like such a bad thing- you had at least a little experience under your belt. You glanced around the diner again, eyeing the empty tables. It shouldn’t be too hard. Turning towards your uncle, you continued, “I just need to get familiar with the place again. Adjust to life in Riverdale first before diving into being the town’s little go-getter.”

FP snickered. “Alright, kid.” His eyes flickered to the door as the bell attached to it jingled. “Now’s your time to start getting familiar.”

At his words, you swiveled around to meet Jughead. He looked a little stunned to see you. A second passed before a grin stretched across his face. You made your way toward him. Your arms wrapped around his middle with a squeeze.

As you pulled away, a group started to push past the doors and stand behind Jughead. You nudge your cousin, then step to the side.

“Jug,” you hissed when he didn’t follow suit. You gestured to the group, and when you made eye contact with the tall one you gave a smile. “Sorry for him.”

The one at the head narrowed his eyes at you. He crossed his leather clad arms over his torso, and you noticed that they all had the same jacket on. Jughead took a step back towards them, glancing at the tallest before switching back to you. It was then that you saw the same jacket on him that everyone else had. A small “oh” formed on your mouth as your brain connected the dots.

“Are you guys having some sort of club meeting?”

Jughead scoffed, shaking his head at your ridiculous question. “No, it’s…”

As he trailed off, his eyes shifted to something behind you.

“A.. project.”

Right, you thought. A project for what?

You wanted to ask. It was so obvious that he was lying about whatever this was. Yet your lips didn’t move. And you knew why. There was a lot that happened back in your old town; stuff that you’d rather keep in the dark. Even from Jughead whom you were close with. Maybe this lie was his way of telling you he wanted to keep this to himself. So you’ll let it slide… for now.

Two of the others looked to Jughead. The third one stared hard at you-- the tall one that you’d consider cute if he didn’t have such a mean mug. To avoid his gaze, you turned your back and waved the little group over. You all squished into a booth in the corner of the diner. Menus were passed around as Jughead grinned.

“Let’s eat!”

#riverdale #riverdale x you #cousin! Jughead #x reader #sweet pea x reader #sp x reader #southside serpents #southside serpents x reader

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years

Text

Heathers | Sweet Pea

A/N: Last part! I hope you guys enjoyed this and that it’s all you hoped for. I think Riverdale ruined the musical for a lot of people. I mean, I didn’t even know about Heathers until the episode of Riverdale and back then I was like ‘WTF is this???’ but then I started watching Carrie Hope Fletcher’s vlogs about her being Veronica in Heathers and I decided to give the album a listen and it’s SO GOOD? Like I’m offically obsessed with it. I’m just sad you can’t watch a good quality video of either the off-Broadway version or the West End version. Not gonna lie, I did watch part of the shitty quality bootleg on YouTube, but it’s just not quite the same is it? Anyway, hope you enjoy this last part! Also, GIF has nothing to do with this part, I just love Christian Slater as JD and this is one of my fav quotes for some reason, along with “Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling”.

Act one - Act two - Act three - Act four - Act five - Act six

Words: 4002

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Warnings: panic attack, cursing, sexually tinted scenes

Act six: Seventeen

I was right not entirely trusting ‘Stoner chick’ and ‘Preppy kid’. The next day, I get a text from Margot, telling me to meet them at Pop’s before school. I’m not entirely sure what to think of it until I enter the diner and find Margot and Ella in a booth with Sweet Pea. A bunch of nerves sets in my stomach. I feel like I’m going to hurl. So, before they can even see me, I run into the restrooms. There, I try to calm myself down. My hands grip at the cold sink until my knuckles turn white. When I look at my reflection in the mirror, I’d never seen my eyes as dark as they are now. “You can do this,” I tell myself, “You’re Veronica Sawyer for Christ’s sake.” One talk with a boy will not change anything. I’ve been able to have a steamy scene with him and kiss him multiple times on stage, why can’t I just do this one thing? This doesn’t make any sense. I’m not making any sense. After heaving in a deep breath, I gather all my courage and walk back into the diner. “Hey, guys,” I greet, trying to play off the fact that I’d just had a mental breakdown in the restroom. All three of them look up at me. My friends get this wide, bright smile on their faces while Sweet Pea’s lips curl up into a more tender smile. A very cute smile, I might add. “Hey, Y/N!” Ella exclaims overexcitedly. “Join us!” She points at the seat next to Sweet Pea, and without asking anything else, I slide in next to him. Then Margot claps in her hands while Ella places hers on the table as if she’s getting up. “We’ve got to motor though. So…” Margot trails off suggestively. “Have fun!” and without getting another word in, both my friends have dashed off and out of the diner. I stare at their empty seats for a moment before turning to the tall guy next to me. “What a terrible set-up,” I say to him, chuckling. Then my eyes widen when I realize how bad that sounds. “Not that the company’s terrible, just the way they did it was terrible. You’re cool,” I ramble, then sigh when I finally shut up. Sweet Pea sniggers beside me, and when I look up at him, he has that same adorable smile on his face he had when I walked in. “I went ahead and ordered you a vanilla milkshake,” he slides the glass of white goodness towards me. “Margot did drink from it already though; hope you don’t mind.” I roll my eyes. Typical Margot. “Nah, it’s fine. We share lots of things,” mental face palm, “Wait, that sounds so wrong.” “Calm down, Y/N,” Sweet Pea says, grabbing my hands, “Why are you so nervous all of a sudden? You’re never this nervous in rehearsals?” A lump forms in my throat and I really have to try hard to swallow it. “Are you okay?” I look into his eyes to try and find calmness again. Then, I heave in another deep breath and begin my ramble. “IjustlikeyoualotSweetPea, but I’m scared it’s going to change the musical completely somehow or you don’t like me back or you think I’m weird or you’re going to distract me from going to drama school or you’re going to break my heart or Reggie’s going to break your face or… Something like that…” I look up again to find him staring intensely at me. “You don’t like me, let’s go for that.” I nod my head and prepare to get up, but Sweet Pea grabs me by my arm and pulls me back down. “I do like you back, Y/N. But you might be right about it changing the musical. And besides, you don’t want to be with me. Being a gang is a dangerous lifestyle and I don’t want to drag you into that.” A relief washes over me. It’s not exactly what I’d hoped for. But at least I know he likes me back. “So, we agree that this just isn’t the right time for us to start something?” I ask, just to be sure. “Yeah, I guess so… Maybe in a few months or years when we bump into one another in a bar in New York or something,” he smiles a happy smile. “You really think I’ll get to New York?” He nods in response, and from there, my complete outburst has been long forgotten and we’re chatting about the future. About my future in Musical Theatre and Sweet Pea’s possible appliance to some community colleges. It’s a relief nothing really changes between us. We’re on the same page about us being a thing. It’s just the wrong place, wrong time. But still, I can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kiss him. Thank heavens I get to tomorrow night on stage without any strings attached.

“Are you ready for the show?” Sweet Pea’s voice makes me jump as he’d walked into the dressing room I shared with the Heathers. The girls had already left, and I was alone until a few seconds ago. Since I got dressed and ready, I started stress-reading and stress-singing all of my lines whilst pacing the room, just to make sure all of the lines were still in my head. Playing Veronica Sawyer was a dream, but there’s so much I need to remember and so much I could possibly forget. “No, I don’t think I know any of my lines, my dress is starting to itch, I’m not sure where I left my diary or the pen or the note I have to give to miss Fleming at the start. When do I go on again? And what are we going to do about Dead Girl Walking because I kind of liked our choreography more than Kevin’s and I—” Before I can even finish the last sentence, I’m shut up by his soft lips pressed to mine. I’m startled at first, but once I realize what happens, I relax a little more. My rapidly beating heart slows down again and air is pushed back into my lungs. “You need to calm down, Y/N. Dress rehearsal last night was more than amazing. You know the script by heart, you are Veronica Sawyer. And if you want, we could still do Dead Girl Walking the way we did it the first time. Fuck Kevin’s comments,” he smiles a little as he holds onto my cheeks to force me to look into his eyes. It only relaxes me more, thankfully. “You’re Veronica Sawyer,” he repeats. “Yeah, it’s going to be fine,” I sigh, nodding my head in agreement. “We start in two minutes!” Kevin’s voice sounds from the hallway. Sweet Pea reaches his hand out for me and I take it. He leads me towards the door and then we go to the wings where all of our other co-stars are. Ella and Margot give me a little smile, knowing how nervous I was, and when they see my hand in Sweet Pea’s, their smile turns into a smirk. So, I let go of his hand and walk up to them to talk a bit before we have to get on. “Break a leg,” Sweet Pea tells me before I have to go on for Beautiful. And then, before I know it, we’re already on Dead Girl Walking. To say I’m nervous about what Sweet Pea’s going to do is an understatement. I sing every line, hit the high notes and belts perfectly, and then I’m already in JD’s room. The nerves are building in the pit of my stomach. But then Sweet Pea’s voice calms me down. “Veronica? What are you doing in my room?” I shush him exaggeratingly. “Sorry but I really had to wake you See, I decided I must ride you 'til I break you 'Cause Heather says I gots to go You're my last meal on death row Shut your mouth and lose them tighty whiteys! Come on!” I strip myself of the blue blazer before continuing to sing. Everything is a complete blur until I’m straddling him and we’re full-on making out. I’m so lost in the kiss that I almost forget I need to sing more. “YEAH! Full steam ahead Take this dead girl walking!” "How'd you find my address?" “Let's break the bed! Rock this dead girl walking!” "I think you tore my mattress!" “No sleep tonight for you Better chug that Mountain Dew!” "Okay, okay" “Get your ass in gear Make this whole town disappear” "Okay, okay!" “Slap me, pull my hair Touch me There and there and there And no more talking!” We do exactly how we did it the first time in rehearsals. The second Sweet Pea tugs at my top to open it, there’s loud uproar in the audience and cheers coming from the wings too. It only charges my confidence to nail those last high notes and belts. “Whoa! Love this dead girl walking!” For the rest of the first half of the show, I don’t trip over any lines and don’t forget any. Having Sweet Pea by my side almost constantly calms my nerves down. And the extreme uproar my top coming undone caused powered my confidence for the rest of the show. The only disadvantage to all of this, is that I realize I want to be with Sweet Pea all the time. And be with him. As in be his, kiss him without it being a scene, hold his hand, hug him. I want to be able to kiss him like he kissed me in the dressing room just moments before the show started. “You did great, Y/N!” Sweet Pea tells me at the start of the interval. “I can’t do this, Noah. Either we have to be together or I don’t want to see you anymore after tonight,” I tell him, and look in his eyes to find an answer. I only see confusion and sadness. Nothing that even indicates he wants the same. “Just, don’t make it harder than it already is,” I say before turning around and getting to my dressing room. “Are you okay?” Betty asks when she sees the tears running down my cheeks. All three of the girls rush towards me when her question just makes me break down more, and they embrace me as if they’re protecting me from something. “He doesn’t want to be with me,” I sob out. One of the girls rubs my back soothingly. “What makes you think that?” Cheryl asks, knowing exactly who I’m talking about. I think everyone knows who I’m talking about. It was probably very obvious what was happening. They probably knew before I did. “That boy is crazy about you.” “I told him I either want to be with him or I don’t ever want to see him again after tonight, and he just stood there with that sheepish smile as if he felt sorry for me,” I manage to bring out between ugly sobs. The girls only wrap their arms tighter around me. “Did he actually say that he felt sorry for you or that he didn’t want to be with you?” Veronica asks me, her voice soft and soothing. “No…” I trail off, “But I mean… It was pretty much written all over his face.” I wipe at my tears, knowing all too well I’ll have to redo my makeup after I’ve stopped sobbing. “I think you ought to talk to him,” Betty says, “Like Cheryl said, the boy’s crazy about you. It would surprise me he’d say something like that.” The blonde girl then cups my cheeks and tilts my head, so I’m looking directly at her. “Here’s what you’re going to do, you’re going to rock the second half of this show as Veronica Sawyer because, girl, there’s no one else who could play her better than you. Then after the show, you go talk to Sweet Pea and become the happy couple you’re supposed to be.” “But he told me before right now is bad timing. We agreed not to date since it was bad timing,” I explain, remembering our conversation at Pop’s. “But you changed your mind, didn’t you?” Cheryl asks, her eyebrows raised in hopes I would catch on. “So, maybe he changed his mind too?” The realization begins to sink in that I might have been a little rash into deciding he doesn’t want the same as me. I should’ve let him talk instead of trying to find the answer in his eyes. “You might be right,” I say and wipe the last tears away, “I’ll talk to him after the show.” I nod my head determinedly and the girls let go of me. “Yeah, you better blow him up first before talking to him,” Veronica jokes, making all of us chuckle a little. This musical is crazy. I knew it was when I saw it off-Broadway and when I saw the 80’s movie a few years ago. But I love it, nonetheless. “Let’s fix this make-up first,” Betty then suggests. Cheryl guides me to the chair in front of my mirror and they begin redoing my make-up for me. We chat about how great the first half of the show was and how much they loved that Sweet Pea and I did what we did in rehearsals during Dead Girl Walking. I bet them and Margot, Ella and Jodi were the ones cheering in the wings. Maybe all of them did, I’m not entirely sure. “Break a leg!” Betty says to me when we’re back in the wings after the interval. Then, Kevin gives us our cue to go on. It’s just me and Sweet Pea now, just before Ram and Kurt’s funeral. “There’s been a lack of girls climbing through my bedroom window lately,” Sweet Pea says after I’d sung a different version of Seventeen, which is a song we still have to sing and to say I’m nervous about it is, yet again, an understatement. “Take a hint,” I reply, clearly upset about the fact we killed Heather Chandler and the two jocks now. “Okay, you’re mad, I get it.” He walks closer to me until he’s in the spot that’s focused on me, mostly. “No, I don’t think you do. “Ich luge” bullets? You lied to me.” “You were lying to yourself, you wanted them dead too.” “Did not!” “Did too!” “Did not!” We’re arguing like little children until Sweet Pea raises his hands in defense. “Hey! Did they make you cry?” he then asks when he’s mere inches away from me. “Yes,” I respond, furrowing my eyebrows. “Can they make you cry now?” he gives me a suggestive look like JD would’ve done. “No, but you can,” and you did – but that has nothing to do with this musical. “Just wait until you see the good that comes of this.” I turn to face the audience, looking over each of the attendants’ heads as to not get distracted by my parents sitting there or the other jocks or anyone else. “No, nothing good could possibly come of this,” I tell him, wagging my finger without looking at him. “Call me an optimist,” he raises his arms sideways. And then I get to say one of my favorite lines from the movie, “Dear diary; my teen-angst bullshit has a body count.” The audience laughs as church music is played through the speakers. Sweet Pea grabs my hand and leads me towards the benches that were placed while the others come onto the stage too for the funeral scene. During this scene, I only have to sing back-up vocals for Dead Gay Son, and it gives me the time to think of some other stuff. Like the lines I’ll have to say after this or what I’m going to say to Sweet Pea when all this is over. Before I know it, the funeral scene is over and it’s Sweet Pea and me all alone again. For a while I go on automatic pilot with my lines until the volume of his voice grows and startles me. “Evil fucks that make life so unbearable that you can’t even stand to live in the world anymore?!” “JD?” He looks at me, and I pause for a moment to think or to pretend to think because I know my line. “How did your mother die?” I then ask. Sweet Pea stares at me for a second, then, in frustration, rubs hand over his chin. “You really want to know?” “Yeah,” I reply because I have to. “My dad said it was an accident. But she knew what she was doing,” he steps forward, “She stepped into that building two minutes before dad blew it up. She waved at me out the window and then…” he imitates an explosion with his hands whilst saying, “Ka-boom…” I heave in a deep breath and then sniffle as if I’m crying. “I’m so sorry. I—” but he interrupts me with his next line. “It’s okay. The pain gives me clarity,” then his voice grows louder again, “You and I are special, we have a lot of work to do.” “What work?” I ask, my voice breaking. “Making the world decent for people who are decent!” he shouts again, making me flinch slightly. “When does it end?” I ask as I walk up to him, but then he leans forward and his voice is so loud that it even scares me a little, even though I know this is supposed to happen. “When every asshole is dead!” he screams it right in my face. I flinch a little, but then push him away in pure frustration and anger. The music for Seventeen starting makes it even more dramatic. “Fine, we're damaged Really damaged But that does not make us wise We're not special, we're not different We don't choose who lives or dies” My voice sounds angry and a little gravely, but it makes the song even better somehow. For the next verse, I sing a little softer, making my voice sound more tender. “Let's be normal, see bad movies Sneak a beer and watch tv We'll bake brownies or go bowling Don't you want a life with me?” Sweet Pea still doesn’t look at me. He just stands on the other side of the stage, staring into the audience angrily with the most intimidating scowl on his face I have ever seen. “Can’t we be seventeen? That's all I want to do If you could let me in I could be good with you” “People hurt us” “Or they vanish,” Sweet Pea sings. “And you're right that really blows But we let go,” then Sweet Pea adds, “take a deep breath” “Then go buy some summer clothes We'll go camping” “Play some poker” I chuckle a little when he finally looks at me. “And we'll eat some chilli fries Maybe prom night” “Maybe dancing” “Don’t stop looking in my eyes” “Your eyes,” Sweet Pea echoes. The scowl on his face has been exchanged for a sad puppy face that nearly makes me cry. I reach my hand out for him to coax him to come closer to me as we sing the chorus together, our voices blending perfectly. “Can we be seventeen Is that so hard to do?” He carefully inches closer and closer. “If you could let me in I could be good with you” He finally takes my hand in his and pulls me a little closer, taking my other hand too. “Let us be seventeen If we still got the right” I let go of one hand and cup his cheek with his as I sing the next line. “So what's it gonna be I wanna be with you” “Wanna be with you” he echoes, and I almost believe him singing it to me instead of JD to Veronica. “I wanna be with you tonight” We belt out the note together, and then he pulls me in for the scripted kiss whilst the music still blares. I pull away from him – even though I don’t want to – when it’s my cue to sing. “Yeah we're damaged,” “Badly damaged” “But your love's too good to lose” our voices blend together again. I then step closer, wrapping my arms around his bicep, pressing my cheek against his shoulder while facing the audience. “Hold me tighter” “Even closer” he wraps his other arm around me. It feels so good and so natural to do this. “I'll stay if I'm what you choose” We then alternate between lines. Our voices soft and vulnerable. “Can we be seventeen?” “If I am what you choose” “If we still got the right” “’cause you're the one I choose” I get out of his grip and turn back to the spot I was in before, facing him. Now, I can look in his eyes properly. They’re finally telling me the truth. Sweet Pea’s truth, not JD’s. Sweet Pea’s. He means the words as Sweet Pea to me. Not as JD to Veronica. “You're the one I choose” “You're the one I choose,” we sing the last line together. His eyes dart from my eyes to my lips, and even though I know we have to kiss according to the script, I feel like he actually can’t wait to kiss me. And then he does. His lips curl up into a tender smile first before he places them on mine, gently. I almost forget the show must go on and the next scene is one we’re in too. I mean, we’re Veronica and JD, we’re in pretty much every scene. The end of the show comes sooner than I think. We’re already on the reprisal of Seventeen. It’s a bit bittersweet. I loved doing this musical and playing this part more than anything, but I’ll also be glad it’s over because then I can finally talk to Sweet Pea. “I meant every word I sang during Seventeen, Y/N. I want to be with you,” he tells me in a rush when I run into the wings after the last song. But now, we all still have to go on for the bows. “I want to be with you too,” I tell him with a little smile tugging at my lips. He then leans down and plants his lips on mine. It still feels the same it did when he kissed me in the dressing room or when we kissed on stage. That was never a stage kiss. “As much as I love this, guys,” Evelyn’s voice makes us break up, “You’re almost up for the bows!” I peck Sweet Pea’s lips quickly before running to the other side of the stage where I need to run up for my bows. First it’s Sweet Pea, and I watch him as he waves and then takes his bow. He begins clapping as I run up, a proud smile on his face. I bow and wave at the crowd before Sweet Pea grabs my hand and we bow together once. We then join the others and bow together twice until the music speeds up again and all of us begin dancing like crazy. Veronica and Betty run up to me and hug me sideways, each of them flanking me. I wrap my arms around them too and kiss Betty on the head. They then let go as we lapse into a chorus of “Beautiful” as it’s kind of part of the reprisal of Seventeen still. When the music dies down and all that’s heard is the audience’s applause, Sweet Pea grabs my hand and pulls me towards him, dipping me down to kiss me passionately. I faintly hear cheers, but I can’t focus much on that. All I’m focusing on is Sweet Pea and his tender, warm lips on mine. It is a beautiful freakin’ day.

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years

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Sweet Pea//two friends and a stranger

Request: Hi! Can I request rly angst poly relationship between sweet pea reader and a third girl and reader starts feeling unloved bc they always ignore her and go dates without her and when they do talk to her they're rly rude and mean overall? Thank you!!!

hey! this was so much fun to write, which isn’t that surprising because i love writing angst sooo. and there is no happy ending to this. so if you want to hurt, you’ve come to the right place. anyway, i hope you like it! and i hope everyone has a great day!!

It started slow at first. Missed calls here and ignored texts there.

But then missed calls turned into missed dates and ignored texts turned into them leaving a place whenever you arrived. This went on for months, dates being planned when they knew you were busy, only to lie when they’re caught.

They would look through you instead of at you, and you had no idea what changed. Until one day you woke up and you realized, what started as a loving relationship between three best friends, had ended with two friends and a stranger.

Sweet Pea and Clara loved fiercely. And you always admired that. You knew when they were in love, and to be on the receiving end of it felt magical. It made you feel like you could do anything, anything would be possible as long as you had them on your side. They made you feel safe and warm and happier than you’d ever felt before.

You found yourself day dreaming futures with them, filled with love and laughter.

The three of you would save enough money to move out of the southside, and hopefully out of Riverdale, the only real ties you had here were your friends and all of them wanted to move too. You’d get a house somewhere, and decorate however you pleased. It would definitely be a mess with three people’s preferences crammed into a small house, but it would work. It would have a certain charm to it. There’d be photos and plants, candles and trinkets. All of them having a memory related to at least one of you.

Friends would come over for parties, all of you reminiscing about the past and hoping for a future. With drunken karaoke thats filmed for future viewing that you can barely hear over the loud laughter in the background. You’d see how happy you all were, when you’re old and wrinkled, and you’d smile at each other. The three of you sat in your own arm chairs, either watching tv or reading.

Nights would be spent wrapped in each others arms, rotating who’s the big spoon and who’s the little (somehow it would always be Sweet Pea), whispering plans for the future, stories from the past. About how Sweet Pea and Clara hated each other when they first met, and how it was you being friends with both of them that brought you all closer. Shushed laughter between you and Clara when Sweet Pea falls asleep with his mouth open and drooling. Soft kisses before bed, rushed kisses in the morning, slow and passionate kisses when hands have wandered.

Inside jokes that confuse your friends, surprise dinners made for one another after long days at work. And the train of washing up (named by you) afterwards. One washes, one dries, the other puts away. Perfect.

Holidays and pets, candid pictures of one or two of you, posed pictures of all three of you when Sweet Pea figures out how to work the camera you and Clara bought him.

Christmas’ spent watching movies in bed with hot chocolate, New Years spent with friends, counting down until the next year, hopefully to be filled with more luck that the last. Halloweens spent dressed up after months of planning your costumes. Birthdays spent being fussed over by the other two.

All the good and bad things that life has to through you, all together.

So many stories would be told within the four walls all of which you couldn’t wait for.

All of which you’ve watched slowly fade away. You could feel them, they were so close, and then slowly but surely you watched them disappear. Instead being replaced with sadness and the feeling of being alone.

Until it becomes apparent that they still wanted all of those things, just without you.

You’ve been through pain in your life. It’s only natural, pain and life come hand in hand. You can’t live without suffering.

You’ve watched friends and family die, been in your fair share of fights. Watched as friends come and go, watched as they’ve fought. People have left, people have struggled, you’ve struggled.

But the pain you’ve felt the past few months, as you’ve watched the two people you love the most slowly pull away from you without a word. Watched as they’ve pretended nothing is wrong, come up with excuses as to why neither of them returned your calls or didn’t show for your date. It hurts more than any punch to the face. You feel it all over, it seeps into your bones and it doesn’t move. If anything it gets worse with each day.

You watch them at parties they didn’t bother to invite you to. You watch as they laugh and kiss and dance, like they’re the only two people in the world. To you they are. But to them, you’re just another face in the crowd it seems, unimportant and invisible. They’re surrounded by friends, everyone happy. And when Toni or Fangs ask where you are, they say they’re not sure, assuring them that you’re around somewhere.

You’ve tried talking to them, managing only a few times to get them both alone, but anytime you bring it up, they send each other an unreadable expression before reassuring you that nothing is wrong.

You’re not sure how you got here.

You were only supposed to be going for a short walk, needing to get out of the house for a bit. It feels too crowded at the minute, despite it just being you for the most part. Your parents come and go, but they mostly go. You feel every room is filled with memories and Sweet Pea and Clara, they follow you wherever you go, until they get too much.

It was supposed to be a small walk around the block. But when you got to the end of the road, you kept walking. It was like something was pulling you, despite the darkness of the night and the fear slowly creeping up inside of you. You walked.

You walked until you stopped outside of her house. Clara has the nicest home out of the three of you. It’s one of the very few actual houses on the Southside. The rest are trailers, tents and and a run down apartment complex, the latter being the one you live in.

It’s filled with mice and rats and bugs, the heating doesn’t work in the winter and the air conditioning doesn’t work in the summer. But it’s four walls and a roof and you’re not planning on being there for very long. At least you weren’t.

Clara’s house is nice. It’s quite nice for the southside, but it’s been bought with dirty money and so she’s excited to leave.

After the trailer park burned down, Sweet Pea went between you and Clara until they got tents. But even after he got, he didn’t spend much time in it. He would usually be at yours, but now you can’t remember the last time he so much as visited.

Now you’re here, you’re not really sure what to do. The peeling paint on the wooden door brings a flicker of a smile to your lips. It feels like home. So many memories have been made out here alone.

You and Clara were friends long before you got together. And so you spent more time here than your own house. You would play outside when you were younger, despite how much her mother insisted on playing inside or out the back garden. Back then, you didn’t understand why she was so worried about you being out there, but the older you got the more you realized. By that point you know longer played anyway, you spent your nights either out with the serpents or in the Wyrm.

You remember standing and kissing her on the doorstep, the brightest smile on your faces when you pulled away. You remember thinking that you’d never feel happier than you were right then.

You remember Sweet Pea picking you up for dates, the two of you spending the afternoon getting ready together. You and Sweet Pea would walk her back home, both pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaving. She’d watch you walk away, a soft smile playing on her lips as you disappeared down the street.

Or getting caught in the rain and running up the steps, Clara fiddling with the key while you jumped from one foot to the other to keep warm, and Sweet Pea would slip up the steps.

The night you, her and Sweet Pea sat on the doorstep waiting for her parents to come back from whatever they were doing. Clara had heard them talking earlier, only getting pieces of what they saying but it was enough to worry her. So you and Sweet Pea stayed, and distracted her with games and jokes until they turned up.

You hear laughter from behind the door and you’re pulled back to reality, your smile disappearing, a frown taking its place as you feel the disappointment settle back in.

The problem with memories is that you can get lost in them.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and wish that this ends well. You know you love them, and if being a serpent has taught you anything, it’s that you fight for what you love. They may have given up on you, but you haven’t given up on them, or yourself for that matter. You deserve an explanation at the very least. And you’re not leaving until you get one.

You knock on the door and wait, with bated breath and fingers crossed. After a few seconds the door swings open revealing Clara. Her smile falters when her eyes land on you and she looks down, desperately avoiding eye contact.

The gesture hurts, but it just blends in with the rest of the pain you’re feeling so you power through.

“Hey Y/n.” It’s like she has to force your name past her lips while reluctantly looking at you. You send her a small smile before looking past her, watching as Sweet Pea slowly shuffles towards the door. The confused expression on his face disappears once he see’s you, its replaced by something you can’t quite place.

Guilt? Disappointment? Relief? Maybe its a mix of all three. You try not to let it affect you, your gaze lingering on the tall serpent before looking back at Clara. They shift awkwardly, having a silent conversation with each other while you stand on the doorstep.

“Sorry we didn’t invite you.” Clara starts, her sentence rushed like it’s the first thing thats come to mind. Her hair falls in front of her face, but she does nothing to move it and you realize she’s probably trying to hide. You have an urge to brush it away, a gesture that would make her smile and blush, but the thought of doing it now makes you feel sick.

“Yeah, we thought you were busy.” Sweet Pea adds, glancing at her before looking back at you.

“Its fine.” You force a smile. “Can I come in?”

“Er, yeah, Sure.” Clara nods reluctantly. She opens the door further and steps to the side to let you.

A shaky breath escapes your lips as you walk over the threshold. It feels like years since you last stepped foot in here. Nothing has changed. The ugly rug is still by the front door. When you were younger you used to wrap yourselves up in it and take it in turns sliding down the stairs. Every single time would end in her mom telling you off, but you would just giggle and do it again when she wasn’t paying any attention.

The cabinet with the fancy plates is still against the wall. A wedding present for her parents from her grandma. What they don’t know is that you ran into it when you were drunk. Thankfully only a plate smashed and you remember thinking it was the funniest thing in the world one minute before hysterically crying the next. It ended in an equally drunk Sweet Pea and Clara gluing it back together and putting it back before her parents got home. The next morning you woke up with your hands stuck together. Clara and Sweet Pea you understood, but you went no where near the glue and to this day it’s still a mystery.

“Hey, remember when you fell into that.” Clara chuckles suddenly, the sound taking both you and Sweet Pea surprise. You look at each other, but it doesn’t last long, he looks at the floor making you sigh.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask bluntly and they look at you surprised. They clearly weren’t expecting that, but neither were you to be honest.

“I-i.”

“What do you mean?” Sweet Pea asks. He looks back at you, but he can’t bear to look at you properly for more than a few seconds.

“Please don’t.” Your voice breaks and you feel the tears building. The months you’ve spent trying to stay positive, trying to write off their excuses and lies. They can spend as much time as they want together, you just want them to stop ignoring you, stop lying to you. To stop forcing themselves to love you.

You can feel their eyes on you while you stand in front of them, your arms wrapped around yourself.

“Just, don’t. I just want to know why you’re doing this. You can tell me if you don’t want to be with me anymore. I’d honestly prefer that than whatever this is. Your lies and excuses and clear avoidance of me. If you’ll be happier without me, just tell me.” Tears slip from your eyes and you quickly wipe them away, forcing yourself to look at them.

You were expecting at least a little emotion from them, but their faces look more like stone than skin. Their expressions hard as they move closer to each other.

“You’re right.” Sweet Pea starts.

“We are happier without you.” Clara finishes.

It feels like you’ve been punched in the gut, you feel winded, like you can’t breathe. Tears flow down your cheeks but you don’t bother to wipe them. They did this, they have to face it.

“Okay.” You take another shaky breath. “Any reason in particular?” You don’t know why you asked that. You should have just left, but you feel yourself stuck to the spot, unable to escape.

They look at each other, having another silent conversation and you watch as their expressions change. It goes from unsure, to sadness and then ends on something you’ve never seen before, not towards you at least. Spite.

“We’ve fallen out of love with you. It’s like, when we’re together, it’s the full package, and I could see us with other people in the future. Just not you.” Sweet Pea explains and a sob escapes your lips. You can’t breathe, the air feels tight around you. Like there’s a limited supply of oxygen and they’re taking it all.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You manage to ask.

“Couldn’t be bothered.” Clara shrugs.

“We kept forgetting I suppose.”

“But I love you.” You know you sound pathetic, your voice raw and croaky, your cheeks red, your eyes puffed. This can’t be real. They love you, you love them. Thats how it was always going to be.

“Thats sweet.” Clara starts.

“But it’s not reciprocated...sorry.” Only now does Sweet Pea look remorseful as he looks back at the hardwood floor.

“Okay.” You manage to gather yourself together. Taking a deep breath and looking both of them in the eye before shoving past them. They both sway, hurt flashing in their eyes but you don’t see it. You’re too busy trying to get out and away from them.

Once you’re stood on the doorway again, you make sure to look at them individually.

“I hope you guys are very happy together.” You force out through gritted teeth.

The door slams closed and a piece of red paint falls to the floor. Your knees buckle beneath you, sobs wracking your body as you drop to the floor.

The streetlight illuminates the dark street, making your tears on the ground sparkle. You watch them dry and they seep into the cement, disappearing almost as soon as they fall.

They engrain themselves into the concrete and with them follows another memory you know you’ll never forget.

No matter how hard you try.

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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ariesbilly · 4 years

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JULIA’S FICS MASTERLIST

so it’s my wifes ( @fredheads ) birthday and im a flop who doesnt have her birthday fic ready (it’ll be done... before the end of the month. absolutely should not take that long but thats the only definite timeline i have lmao) SO to celebrate, i think you all should read her fics and leave nice comments because it’s what she deserves :)

MULTI CHAPTER (unfinished)

She's The One (fem!fredsythe)

Just Like Heaven (fredsythe, alice - fred escapes the Sisters au)

talk about a dream, try to make it real (fredsythe, gladys - college au)

quiet mercy (fredsythe - the OG fred & the sisters of quiet mercy fic)

Papa (fred and artie exploration)

wanna be your backdoor man (fredsythe - h*rny neighbor antics)

With a Girl Like You (fred and gladys friendship)

all our costliest treasures (baby fredsythe at christmas julia i would like to see more... its your birthday i should not be requesting things my apologies)

but your kids are gonna love it (archie and jughead - back to the future au i never saw that movie so i cant say for sure but they do time travel so that checks out to me)

Riverdale High's Last Annual Father-Daughter Winter Fling (fred takes veronica to the father/daughter dance because hiram is in jail =/ )

i say the phrases that keep it all going (different takes of fred fp archie and jughead dying in each others arms julia where is the fredsythe one... just asking)

MULTI CHAPTER (finished [according to ao3])

wouldn't it be good (ensemble - everyones paired up and has to raise an egg)

love is like a heat wave (fredsythe summertime antics)

burnt toffee (halice - working at an icecream shop, falling in love, v cute)

if only in my dreams (penelope lies about having a boyfriend)

let nothing you dismay (alice cooper fixing christmas)

there's a blue light in my best friend's room (hal and fred bonding hour)

The Trials of Cheerleading (or, "Throwing In The Megaphone") (the parentdale bible just read it and forget anything else anyone [ras] has ever told you)

fred andrews adopts a gang (bet you cant tell what this is about)

from the rich to the poor they are mostly unkind (i think this is a sweet pea centric fic?? julia really has something for everyone but dont expect her to do this again)

fp's adventures in domesticity (fp taking care of the andrews household while fred recovers from getting blasted in the chest)

Oblivion (all the times fred has experienced god)

west of memphis (jarchie post 107 thats all i can tell you idk)

ONE SHOT

Wherever you go i'll be with you (fp and archie - a timeline after freds death)

that's as close as i'll get to loving you (fremary - fred asks mary out)

i'm only good at being bad, bad (gladys hating her deadbeat husband <3)

and all the miles in between (fp and tom on the bus to basic training)

excerpts from the same party (freds interactions...at a party... the title is pretty self explanatory but who doesnt love a party fic ammirite ladiez)

don't you know these days you pay for everything (fred, fp, mary - i remember this being fp playing wingman to get fred and mary together cuz he likes mary better than hermione.... read more to find out if im right)

tying faith between our teeth (fredsythe - au where fp goes to college and doesnt ruin his life)

and they were roommates (fredsythe - another college au)

The Construction Tree (jarchie - idk what this is about i dont read kid fics im sorry... but julias a bomb ass writer so im sure the jarchies will love it anyway)

flowers grow through cement (fred gaining weight and feeling insecure)

night creatures call and the dead start to walk in their masquerade (HALLOWEEN FREDSYTHE BABYYYY!)

get me a prescription for that one perfect touch (fredsythe sick fic)

i don't know where else i can go (more hal and fred bonding hour)

everybody's got a hungry heart (fredsythe sexy time with food... that sounds weird.... listen either youre into it or youre not)

not so typical love song (fp and mary bonding hour)

all the redemption i can offer (fremary after the shooting... im pretty sure... listen i have a bad brain i cant remember things just read it)

Simply Irresistible (fred is a ho)

took the words (right out of my mouth) (four times fred and fp say ‘i love you’)

if you wanna get it done you gotta do it yourself (fp and mary loving fred... who is a ho)

people livin' in competition (more fp/fred/mary nonsense with fp gay pining what a good triangle i would have liked to seen it...)

buy me a ticket on the last train home tonight (mary works at youth crisis hotline and fred calls in)

that's what they say when we're together (halram post high school au)

a good old fashioned romance (hiram flaunting his wealth instead of displaying emotions)

you don't know what (you) got (fred has great friends even though hes a bit of a putz)

watch your weight (more fredsythe food shenanigans)

Valuable Lessons Learned On The Tilt-A-Whirl, or "Babe, You Ought To Quit This Scene Too" (alice hermione fred and fp go to the fair)

what once was (jughead and the andrews after freds shooting)

you must remember this (i have no recollection of what this is about but it sounds jughead centric)

takes guts to be gentle and kind (idk what this is either lmfao but i know julia saved moose and midge in it... idk midge but good for her [granted this also takes place after 202 so keep that in mind])

FP Jones and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad House Party (or, "Nothing Good Ever Happens At One Of These") (oh i remember this one.... mmmm. title tells you all really)

and so please help them with your youth ( ‘fred teaches archie to walk. archie returns the favor’)

andrews & son (more fred and archie post 201)

Blueberry Pie (fredsythe - my review of this fic is just me clutching my chest saying ‘oh god, oh fuck’)

never drill for oil on a city street (part 1 of mary working at a youth crisis hotline and fred calling in and i should put this above the other fic but like... you can figure out one and two on your own i believe in you)

The Perils of Faking Illness (or, “two times Fred Andrews faked sick to get out of class and one time he actually needed a hospital”) (read the title)

healing, in three parts (fred fp archie and jughead attempt a roadtrip)

all along the watchtower (#fredandrewsisriverdale)

guess that we were too much of the same kind (fred getting visitors in the hospital)

sometimes wonder what's beneath the mess you've become (fred and alice bonding hour)

nice day for a white wedding (fredsythe hospital times babyyyy!)

The Unexpected Perks of Feminist Activism (or, "Fingertip Rules") (fred gets fucked in a skirt by fp thats all you need to know)

Any Way You Want It (reggie x moose idk what it is but if you like them here you go)

fun, fun, fun (till her daddy takes the t-bird away) (beach antics! freds a menace but fp loves him anyway...)

hands over the ears of my heart (fred and hermione share a bed but platonically)

the apocalypse comes sooner than you think (fredsythemione antics)

small as a world and large as alone (a series of drabbles about archie jughead and fred post 104)

do a good turn daily (archie x reggie post 103)

seven minutes in heaven (archie and reggie picked for 7 minutes in heaven)

tell me every terrible thing you ever did (archie drops jughead off after the pep rally)

#READ HER WORK!#riverdale fanfiction #idk why im bothering tagging this i doubt its gonna show up anywhere thanks to tumblrs rules but whatever

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statticscribbles · 3 years

Text

Phantom Pain

Supernatural AU! Reader/Fangs- You’re hiding your ability as a banshee; but when your powers focus on the Serpents; you realize what hiding yourself means

TW: Death, Mild Gore

You’d been nervous starting Riverdale High, knowing they were accepting of magic was a comfort, but you knew if you explained what you truly were they’d probably cower in fear. You find the Serpent werewolf pack to be the most open and accepting, when you use the lie you’re unsteady with your magic and try to avoid using it. Betty, and by extension her friends also give you a warm welcome, granting you a spot on the River Vixen’s as well as an odd safety bubble from the students who look down on magic users that are unstable.

You’re careful about lies when it comes to your magic; while the aura you give off is nothing higher than the average magic user you know it doesn’t ‘flare’ at appropriate times. You have an ever growing list of excuses and lies at the ready to block anyone suspecting anything about your true abilities, your true species. While it’s not surprising to find werewolves and Vampires roaming around Riverdale you’re not sure how kindly they’d take to a banshee and you’d prefer to keep it hidden until you have an idea.

“Jesus Y/N you look like death warmed over.” You groan at Cheryl’s voice nodding into your crossed arms. You sit up and lean your head back as you slide down in the armchair in the student lounge. “Late night studying then?” “Nightmares again.” You half mumble as Betty holds out a cup of coffee. “You’re an angel.” “No just a healer. I added something to help you sleep tonight.” She beams and you can’t help but smile back. You know the nightmares are worse, and you know why they’re worse. You hate it, you hate the predictions and the tears that will start spouting by next week if nothing’s changed course. You assure everyone else you’re fine; that you probably used a charm too long or not long enough and you promise you’ll be fine.

You hadn’t been surprised at the nightmares; you knew being around a pack of werewolves wasn’t the safest; but to think about anyone of them dying made your stomach lurch. When you’d dreamed of them scrambling around; the bullet whistling through the air to lodge into someone you couldn’t see the face of; you knew you had to do something. You know your powers don’t work like that and you let yourself simply exist in the nightmares as they become clearer and clearer. It takes two more days for you to see his face. You cry in the dream when you see it; you do not scream and you do not save him; you wake crying, aching at the thought of remaining useless. You cannot interfere until he’s dying; until he’s laying on the ground blood dripping and the Serpent’s panicking. —————————————————————-

You’re in the middle of practice when you feel it; the bullet hitting into your stomach, you lurch backwards trying not to scream, trying your best to write it off as you tripped. You know this means the course has been set; Fangs Fogarty is going to be shot and die. Toni watches you as you stumble back into formation Cheryl arching an eyebrow as you shoot her an apologetic smile. You know you should go home but you’re terrified of everyone else catching on. You can handle it; you’ve already gotten over the worst part, feeling the victim’s death. You sigh relaxing a fraction as the burning pain in your stomach ebbs off. “Cramps.” You offer as an excuse, all the girls nodding in understanding. Toni frowns but doesn’t say anything; you know she wants too but instead she walks with you to lunch.

“Shit.” You mumble feeling the familiar prick of tears at your eyes. You try your best to avoid looking up, to avoid yourself zero-ing in on Fangs. You keep your eyes on the ground and don’t look up. Of course you crash into him, looking up as he smiles; your visions twist it into his dying face and you start sobbing immediately. Fangs to his credit doesn’t seem shocked that you can tell; he pulls you into his arms rubbing your back slightly awkwardly. “It’s okay, don’t worry?” He tries to comfort you; you’re crying more trying to keep a wail from bubbling up as you cling to his shirt. You’re shaking and you try to refuse as he drapes his jacket around you. You know what will happen if you don’t give it back, it’ll be stained with blood from where he touched it. You’ll spend the hours before his death trying in vain to wash the blood from it. He doesn’t take it back and you add bleach to the mental list of groceries you’ll need to pick up.

——————————————————————– You can barely see Fangs. You can hear it more, the blood pumping from him onto his shirt, the way it glimmers in the night. His heartbeat growing faint and his breath barely breaking past his lips. You can feel your stomach rolling, the feeling of vomit crawling up your throat, as you look at him, at hands covered in his blood, you catch sight of a glimmer of metal, silver, bleeding out of him as much as his blood; poisoning him from the inside out. With how Sweet Pea jerks his hands back you know the pack knows too. You cringe slightly, hand covering your mouth as someone brings you to the hospital; you’d forgotten you were wearing one of their jackets. You can see the Serpents crowding around each other, you hesitate, continuously glancing towards the door, no one new is coming in, none of the doctors and nurses. You’re shaking, straining as you try to keep the scream under your tongue. You can see Jughead and FP consoling everyone, they watch you; you wonder how sick you look to them. “You okay Y/N you look like you’re going to pass out, you not a fan of blood?” You don’t respond, your ears rooms away as you can hear Fang’s heartbeat as if you’re against his chest. It’s slowing more, the doctors don’t seem to be paying attention, focusing only on removing the fragments of the silver bullet he was shot with. You nod hoping it will be enough, but FP Jones sits you down on a chair and his voice sounds underwater as he asks you what’s wrong.

“Hate hospitals.” You don’t need any other reason than that. The pack know of your unstable magic, and what’s worse than the magic and spirits that linger around the hospitals. They nod and you bolt. Tearing into the forest as fast as you can. Crashing to the ground in the middle of the trees. You can hear his heartbeat as you run, it’s the sound your legs make as you try to outrace him, stumbling, you know you’re matching with his weakening life force. Your breathing stops the second Fang’s heart does. You can’t hold it back any longer the scream clawing up from your throat, you try your best to hush it, to bite it back, but you know it’s not his time to go, you know it will upset the balance to let him fade now; so you close your eyes and scream.

You open your eyes to the forest being dead silent. You can’t hear anyone coming, there’s no senses, no sound; nothing permeates the cocoon of Fang’s heartbeat growing slightly. You return slowly, making your way back to the hospital unsure if any of the pack heard you. You’re too curious about what they’re going to say to stay away. None of them look at you; FP looks almost frantic, practically clawing at the doctor who stands in front explaining how Fangs Fogarty didn’t make it. “No he had to, the scream, you heard the scream too.” “I’m sorry Mr. Jones. I heard nothing; the silver bullet was too large, it hit too many things it-” He trails off and you wonder what caused. FP Jones turns to follow the doctors gaze which you now realize has landed on you. “Oh.” He nods to the doctor and then turns back towards you.

“You were saying.” FP growls and the Doctor shrugs. “He can’t be moved, he’ll pass if he; tell him. Tell him what’ll-“ You frown the doctor looking fearfully towards you. You can hear something in the back of your mind telling you to stay quiet, to keep your mouth closed. You shake your head and the Doctor steps backwards. “He can’t be moved.” The doctor repeats and you slowly unclench your jaw; you can hear something like static hissing through your thoughts. You’re not sure what you’re saying; even the doctor doesn’t understand but you can hear he’s fearful despite it. “Y/N?” You can see the Serpents standing and you turn to them. “Yes?”

“Why are you floating?” You frown looking down to notice your feet not touching the ground. You look at your hands; your fingertips translucent and shimmering under the lights, you catch your reflection in the mirror, your hair smooth and glossy, dripping wet like the jacket you wear; you can tell by the hue it’s changed to that its dripping with blood. “I’m sorry.” “No don’t be just- what happened?” “What do you mean?” “You went into the forest; your body is still-“ You shrug turning when more people walk in. “Listen FP we know something-“ Alice Cooper stares at you and screams. You turn back towards the room scanning for yourself; trying to brush the thought of your self being somewhere else off.

“Oh. That’s me.” You nod to what you assumed to be a lump on one of the chairs. You hover closer fingers reaching out and you can feel warmth spreading through you before you’re no longer looking at yourself but back at the Serpents and the doctor. “He can’t be moved; he needs to stay for the moment.” You nod at the Doctor who sighs in relief. “So safe to say your magic isn’t unstable.” Jughead nods and you laugh a little. “It is; death is unstable in itself and-“ “I get enough of a lecture on death from Curdle every time I visit; I don’t need another zombie blathering on about-“ “Banshee actually.” You sigh feeling the weight off your chest at speaking what you truly are.

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#fangs fogarty imagine #fangs fogarty #fangs fogarty x you #fangs fogarty x reader #fangs x reader #riverdale #riverdale imagine #riverdale reader insert #riverdale request #stattic

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