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joestylee · 1 year

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10 Celebrity Dads to Inspire Your Festive Holiday Style

The holidays provide an opportunity for families and friends to bond, share love and spend quality time together. This means there are lots of invitations to parties and outings. For fathers, invitations to parties mean dressing up which can give rise to confusion about what to wear. Here’s a list of dapper celebrity Dads to inspire your festive holiday wardrobe.

What is Festive Holiday Style and how to dress for it?

Festive holiday style is simply cocktail attire with festive flair that can be worn to formal Christmas parties, New Year’s Eve parties or your Christmas photo shoot. The hall mark of festive attire rests on color, fabric, and details. Colors like red, green and jewel tones; fabric like plaid, tartans, tweeds, knits, cashmere, satin, velvet and details like sequins, rhinestones, and crystals. Basically, anything with a lot of sparkle or pattern or both.

Celeb Dads with the Best Holiday Style

John Legend

With his legendary song about what Christmas means to him and his excellent taste in formal wear, John Legend is a walking Christmas Style Bible for Dads. He is conscious about what he wears and puts in the effort to look good for himself and his family of four, soon to be 5. Get the scoop about that here. Though he says his style is constantly evolving as he wears what feels right in the moment, his go-to for classic tailoring is Alexander McQueen and Paul Smith.

Prince Harry

His willingness to step back from Royal life to protect his wife and children from direct and indirect discrimination make this royal dad rank high on our list. Dad to Archie and Lilibet, Prince Harry is settling well into fatherhood. As a royal, his style is always impeccable no doubt, but Harry makes sure to add flair to his outfit with colorful ties and tries to color coordinate as much as possible with his wife for events. Can you spot his tie and the inner lining of his suit which matches his wife’s emerald attire? I can’t think of a better way to impress your significant other for year-end festivities.

Kevin Hart

This celebrity dad is big on family. He never fails to release yearly Christmas cards with his kids Heaven, Hendrix, Kenzo and Kaori. He’s also a star of Christmas cocktail style. Most notably is his consistent black and white palette which he explains makes his wardrobe classic and trend proof. A true man of style, he is particular about fit, which is why his Dior suits are always tailored to the nines. If you want to emulate Kevin Hart's style, keep your festive attire tailored, fitted and simple.

Wizkid

In an interview with ThisDay Style, Wizkid revealed that what keeps him going strong in his career is family and love. Indeed, this celebrity dad is a family man, and his family comes first as shown by how he dotes on his lovely kids Boluwatife Balogun, Ayodeji Balogun Jnr, and Zion Balogun. So, what festive holiday style can we pick up from the Afrobeat star who has strutted international fashion runways? Replace the regular suit and shirt combo at your holiday party with a coordinating pant/shirt set in Christmas colors and a T-shirt. More tips on Wizkid’s style can be found here.

David Beckham

Father to Brooklyn, Romeo, Cruz, and Harper Beckham, David Beckham has described his children as his motivation. One of sports best dressed man, the Beckham name is synonymous with fashion because his, wife, Victoria Beckham is an acclaimed fashion designer. It’s no wonder that this celebrity dad schools other Dad’s on Dad dressing. A holiday fashion tip to pick up from Beckham is to pay attention to the fabric of your outfit.

Jay Z

World famous rapper and entrepreneur Jay Z, is father to Blue Ivy, Rumi and Sir. Like Kevin Hart, he also likes to don a good designer suit that fits and is best known for his monochrome looks. Our festive holiday takeaway from Jay-Z is to look for a color that is neutral but doesn’t wash you out.

Will Smith

Will Smith is an older celebrity dad who has grown in wisdom about parenting. He admits in an interview with People Magazine that he didn’t always connect with his kids, Trey, Jaden, and Willow at the depth they wanted. However, that is changing because he has learnt that the best parenting is to admit mistakes or ignorance (don’t be a know it all) and learn and grow yourself. Style wise, Smith is known for tasteful fashion because he is very realistic about what works and what doesn’t. He also likes to keep his style fresh, yup he is the Fresh Prince of Bel Air remember? Our festive holiday learnings from Will Smith are that leather is a staple that always works and to keep things fresh and unexpected with pattern.

Idris Elba

British actor Idris Elba is father to Isan Elba and Winston Elba. Our style takeaway from Elba is to step away from safe Christmas colors. A camel color suit paired with the right shirt is Christmas cocktail worthy.

Ryan Gosling

Husband to Eva Mendes and dad to Esmeralda Amada and Amanda Lee, Ryan Gosling is a doting dad who keeps an eye on the clock because his children are growing up so fast, something all parents can relate with. This doting dad is also a dapper dad known for using color to add fun to black-tie outfits.

Ryan Reynolds

Canadian American actor Ryan Reynold is the happy father of 3 girls with a +1 on the way. Reynold and his wife Blake Lively are the epitome of the all-American family; beautiful, rich and in love. Asides his humor, our holiday style lesson from the X-Men star is Ryan Reynold is how to power dress by mixing modern and traditional suit elements to create 3-piece ensembles.

Save this article or share with someone you know, who needs some Dad style holiday inspiration.

If not, check out our celebrity wedding dresses with the stunning partner if you're seeking for wedding dresses for your wedding.

#Celebrity Wedding Dresses #Celeb Dads with the Best Holiday Style

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cyoc49 · 3 years

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Golly, Archie!

[Based on an inbox request sent to me by @tfkinky ]

Hiram Lodge stood in front of the mirror and adjusted his tie. Today, as with every day, he looked his best and most professional. The crisp black dress shirt wrapped around his powerful chest, his strong arms were hugged by a deep blue suit coat, and a matching tie perfectly pulled the look together. His eyebrows were neatly shaped. His hair... not a strand out of place. He radiated power, and for a good reason: Hiram Lodge basically owned Riverdale.

He was close to literally owning Riverdale, but he had two items left on his to-do list: Archie Andrews and Jughead Jones. At his every chance to claim total control, those two thugs somehow managed to thwart his plans at the last second. If he could get rid of them, nothing would stop him.

And as it turned out, there might be a way to get rid of them.

In a particular moment of desperation, Hiram had made his way to a local witches’ coven. There, he had learned an interesting fact: there was an alternate version of Riverdale in a local parallel universe. One where life was very, very different.

After a series of shady deals with the witches, Hiram was taught a spell which could be used to completely rewrite the reality of an individual and slip them into this alternate universe. Only in his case, it would be two individuals.

Now, Hiram walked over to his desk. He had drawn a pentagram and lit candles as instructed by the witches, and spread out in the middle were pages from a 1950’s comic, showing teenagers living in the time period. On top of the comic pages were two photos: one of Archie, and one of Jughead. Hiram made small cuts in each of his palms, and held them palms-down over the photos. As his blood dripped onto the setup, Hiram chanted:

Little boys who think they’re cool.

Hot shots, now made into fools.

No longer swear, no longer act mean.

Learn to say golly, nifty, and keen.

Slick your hair and dance the jive.

Welcome to 1955.

With each word, the photos began to warp and shake as if they were water. Slowly the photos began to almost melt into the comic, until they disappeared from the table completely. Instead, the comics now featured two new characters: goofy looking 50’s versions of his former foes. The candles blew out.

Hiram smiled to himself. What fun they’ll have

Archie wiped sweat off his brow. He had been mowing lawns and trimming hedges all day. In an effort to make some extra cash on the side he had started his own lawn care service for the good people of Riverdale. It was tough work, but the money was nice. And he got to walk around shirtless all day, which was a nice plus.

As he threw down another bag of clippings, Archie heard a voice in his head.

“You’re a good boy, Archie.”

Archie paused. He looked around. There was nobody else on the street right now. Had he imagined that? He shook his head and went back to work.

... but even as he worked, Archie couldn’t stop thinking of that little voice. The phrase “good boy” stuck with him, and bounced around in his head like a lone thought running free. Archie had never considered himself one of those goody two-shoes guys. Given everything that happened in this town, everyone had to have a bit of dirt on on their hands. But what if he didn’t? What if he had the chance to do better, wash his hands off and dedicate his life to being a good son and a good member of the community. Well, gosh, wouldn’t that be something?

Before these thoughts went any further, Archie snapped back into the moment. It was a nice idea, but this was his life.

“You’re a well-behaved, well-mannered boy.”

He hear the voice from nowhere again, and this time it sounded even more persuasive. Unconsciously, Archie shifted his back and stood straight, rigid as a board. It was like second nature - without thinking, Archie knew to look upright and presentable at all times. After all, that was the way any well-behaved boy should act.

And as he shifted into a proper posture, he felt a wave of Euphoria was over himself. Standing tall allowed him to push out his chest and show off his arms, after all. He smiled a wide, wide smile. Acting in this way, being a good boy, it made him feel indescribably happy... and also a bit horny. There was a strange feeling bubbling inside of him, growing stronger with every second. A feeling of peppiness, and perkiness. Archie knew it was right to help people. Gosh, that’s what good guys do, right? That’s why I’m mowing my neighbors lawns for free, Archie thought to himself. But no - that’s not right. No, I’m trying to make money... aren’t I? Archie felt confused, like his truth was being clouded and replaced by a new preppy reality that was only getting more intense. Golly, how much farther could this go?

“You have sharp dress style.”

With those words, the few clothes Archie was wearing flew off his body. He immediately moved to cover himself up, until the wave of preppy euphoria relaxed him again. He didn’t really miss his old clothes that much. Sloppy jeans and t shirts? And he had the audacity to walk around shirtless? Unacceptable, Archie thought to himself. I can’t look sloppy, I’m 18 for Pete’s sake! I should be dressed to the nines at all times!

The universe seemed to comply with Archie’s new thoughts as a fresh set of clothes wrapped themselves around him. 1950’s style tighty whities slip up and covered his private areas, nicely cupping his sizeable package and perfectly outlining his firm, round buttocks. The waist band went up to his high waist in that classic 50’s style, a style that Archie was coming to think of as his own.

A white dress shirt appeared next, buttoning itself up to the very top button. The shirt was tight against Archie’s beefcake body, and the outline of his pecs and arms could be seen through the shirt, a feeling Archie didn’t mind. The shirt had a small polka dot pattern on it, but of course it did. Archie loved fun patterns on his clothes! Sometimes he wore multiple bright patterns just to feel extra nifty.

Today was one of those days, apparently, as wool dress slacks with a plaid pattern slid up Archie’s thick legs, coming to rest at his high waist. Through the pants the outline of his full buttocks could be seen. The shirt tucked itself into his pants. As if I would ever go anywhere with my shirt untucked! Archie wanted to guffaw at the thought!

A plaid green bow tie wrapped itself around Archie’s neck into a perfect bow (Archie had mastered the art of tying a bow tie many years ago. He hardly left the house without one). As it locked into place, the wide smile on Archie’s face got wider. He felt absolutely giddy in these clothes. Golly, he loved to dress crisp like this! It made him feel real boss.

Pristine white dress socks rolled up his feet, and wingtip loafers wrapped around them. The shoes were brown leather, so perfectly polished that Archie could see his reflection in them. He polished his shoes every night, he liked to keep them looking a spiffy as possible. A matching brown leather belt, just as polished, cinched his waist, further defining his beefy build.

Over the top of the whole ensemble, a knit sweater vest appeared, in a deep blue. Emblazoned on the front was a gold “R” - for Riverdale High, of course! Archie loved his school and had a number of sweater vests, sweaters, ties, caps, and other pieces of merchandise for the school. He loved to incorporate them into his look - Riverdale’s quarterback should show his school pride, after all!

“You look clean-cut and presentable at all times.”

Archie’s hair ruffled as gel began to flow through it and lock it in a slicked back position. His signature red locks now looked like a plastic helmet on top of his head, perfectly styled into a neat all-American side part (the way every man’s hair should look!), and lightened until it was almost a cartoonish orange.

Archie’s bushy eyebrows slimmed out, taking on a clean styled look, and the pores on his face vanished. Archie how had an impossibly clear and bright complexion, aside from a smattering of freckles across his checks. His teeth straightened into a perfect row. His eyes shined a bright blue, even if his gaze was now a bit mindless.

Archie’s look had totally transformed. He no longer looked like the tough jock he was before. He now dressed like a total square. But Archie didn’t care, he thought his dress style was neato! An artificial perfection settled over his whole look, locking Archie in plasticine preppiness.

Archie rubbed his new clothes. Gosh, he enjoyed the feeling of them so much. As his fingers circled his chest, he heard several more words from the voice, only now he willingly welcomed them:

“You obey your parents, Archie.”

“You follow all orders you’re given.”

“You always hold the door open for those behind you.”

“You’d never do something without asking first.”

“You always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.”

“You are a good boy, Archie.”

With every command that rang through his vacant head, Archie’s wide smile only got wider. The perky feeling was growing. It wasn’t just in his stomach, it had spread through his arms and legs, into his fingers and toes and into every hair on his head. On a molecular level, Archie felt like a keen all-American teen. A swell guy who helped old ladies cross the street, always had dates home by 10PM sharp, and ended nearly every sentence with “sir” or “ma’am” when talking to an adult.

Archie’s connection to this Riverdale was fading. The squeaky clean school boy now had little in common with the unforgiving town he had grown up in. Instead, he was coming into alignment with the other Riverdale, the one where wholesome American values had never gone out of style. His memories had also shifted from the old Riverdale to the new, as he only ever remembered the 1950’s haven as his home.

But there was so much to do there! Heading to the malt shop! Going to sock hops with Betty and Ronnie! Listening to records! Gee whiz, Archie enjoyed his Riverdale life so much, he wanted to be there right now!

“Archie, it’s time to go home.”

For a brief second, Archie’s head spun as the world flashed and shifted around him.

Only for a brief second, though. After that, it was back to the setting Archie knew and loved. Technicolor houses, white picket fences. Children playing in the street. Home. Archie sighed and smiled. He was at peace here.

Suddenly, Archie remembered his plans for the day. He was going to pick up Veronica and take her to Pop’s. Without missing a beat, Archie ran to Veronica’s house. His knock on the door was answered by this Riverdale’s version of Veronica, sporting a prim blouse and skirt, with bobbed hair.

“Hiya, Ronnie!” Archie exclaimed with a wide grin.

“Hey there, Archiekins!” Veronica pulled Archie into a hug.

The two embraced for a moment and looked at each other sweetly. It was puppy love, plain and simple. Archie always wanted a girl to be sweet for, and Ronnie was the right one for him. And if he was lucky, they might get to play some backseat bingo in his station wagon later.

“Ready to go, sweetie?” Archie asked. Veronica responded with a nod, and the two made their way to Pop’s to split a sundae. Another perfect Riverdale day!

———————————————————————

Jughead paced the floor of his dad’s trailer. He’d been tipped off by a connection on the outskirts of town that Hiram Lodge had been seen paying a visit to the local coven. That could only mean he was up to trouble. Jughead had been trying to contact Archie all day, but his friend had seemingly gone off the grid. Jughead was getting concerned that it wasn’t a coincidence. If Hiram was resorting to black magic, Jughead had no idea what to expect or how to respond. As much research as he did, that was one area he did not mess with.

But now Jughead felt like he was at the end of his line. Hiram had tried multiple times to take him and Archie out, and if he had finally figured out a way, Riverdale was doomed.

He had to contact the witches. That was the only way, Jughead decided. He would drive out there and convince them to undo whatever Hiram had them do. He would beg, make them see that the safety of Riverdale was on the line. It wasn’t his best plan, but it would have to work. It would have to.

Jughead picked up his keys, but dropped them again just as quickly after a booming voice echoed inside his head.

“You’re a good boy, Jughead.”

He couldn’t move. He knew this was the end. But even scarier than the absolute terror he was feeling in the face of defeat, was the fact that those feelings of terror were disappearing. As much as he didn’t want to listen to the voice, the phrase “good boy” just refused to go away. It comforted him, the idea of giving in. Jughead had worked for so long to be a total nonconformist, and yet in this moment he wanted nothing more than to just fit on. Be one of the boys.

Jughead was terrified by the thoughts he heard and felt. He was fighting to hold on to his consciousness, but it was quickly becoming a losing battle.

“You’re a goofy, fun-loving guy.”

Jughead chuckled. He sure did feel that way sometimes. All throughout high school he had been a class clown, always making light of the situation. It was just his way of seeing the world. He liked to make people laugh, but nobody laughed louder than he did at himself.

“You are always dressed in a clean, respectable fashion.”

Jughead’s denim jacket and flannel disappeared from his body. Jughead didn’t mind too much. He wasn’t the kind of guy to dress to the nines, but he did think that every young guy should know how to dress. Jughead kept it simple, but he kept it clean.

To highlight this point, a blue turtleneck sweater popped up around his slender frame, leaving him feeling very comfortable.

White briefs wrapped up his nether regions like a Christmas present, and black dress slacks covered the top of them. The pants were freshly ironed, with visible pleats down the front. Jughead always wore clean clothes!

White tube socks rolled up his legs, and over the top of them came a fresh pair of Chuck Taylor All Stars. Jughead sighed with relief as he wriggled his toes around inside the shoes. Nothing made him feel more boss than a pair of Chucks.

On top of his head, Jughead’s beanie had reformed as a paper crown, his trademark accessory. Jughead didn’t know how he had started wearing it or why he still did, but it sure was fun! And it matched his goofy personality well.

“Your appearance is just as well groomed as your clothes.”

Jughead’s long, unkempt hair was pulled to the side and perfectly groomed into a side part, shortening down in the process to a fresh cut. His teeth whitened and his skin cleared up, just as it had for Archie. Jughead now looked like a perfect model for a Normal Rockwell painting.

Jughead loved the way he looked. This was who he was: just one of the guys, always ready to join in on plans, but never looking to stand out. He was a lovable goofball, and he wore his reputation with pride.

Jughead stood in place, enjoying the feel of his new getup, as more commands piled into his head.

“You love to eat.”

Food was one thing he couldn’t get enough of. He often had multiple hamburgers at Pop’s, and always had snacks no matter where he went.

Jughead let out a low burp. His stomach rumbled, then expanded under his sweater, reflecting his new big eater tendencies. Jughead enjoyed his little pot belly. He chuckled thinking about it.

“You love to laugh.”

And as he did, his chuckle turned into a full-bellied laugh, sending waves of joy throughout his body. His laugh began to take on a honking quality as the tip of his nose expanded to a bulbous shape.

“You are slow-witted, but keen and well-mannered.”

The light behind Jughead’s eyes faded. His journalistic wit and hard-hitting problem solving skills were gone. As Jughead’s goofy personality took over, he felt his care for school and work disappear. He didn’t like to try too hard, raised people’s expectations of him too much. And besides, that school stuff was so hard. Why not take life easy?

“You love to joke, dance, and do other fun-loving, innocent teenage activities.”

Jughead smiled as he remembered his Riverdale. A town where all his best pals were, and where he got to enjoy his neighborhood and all the pleasant people within. It made Jughead happy to think of his Riverdale. He never had to try hard there. Eating burgers and drinking shakes were his highest priorities. The most work he did was cracking a joke in response to Archie’s latest goof.

Jughead kept thinking about his town and how swell he felt when he was there, and realized he wanted nothing more than to be back. Back in his 1950’s home.

With perfect timing, the final command came.

“Time to go home, Jughead.”

Jughead spun, and so did the world. Then, half a second later, everything was back to normal. He was at home, in the suburbia of good ol’ Riverdale. The sun was shining high and proud, and for the 782nd day in a row there was not a cloud in the sky. Jughead knew this was where he belonged.

And just his luck. Across the street was none other than his best pal Archie Andrews! Archie was with Veronica, but was grinning ear-to-ear as he saw Jughead, and Jughead felt the same way as he saw his buddy. Jughead ran across the street to join them (after looking both ways first, of course).

“Howdy Jug! Boy, you have no idea how glad I am to see you!” Archie exclaimed.

“Right back at ya, Archie! Gosh, I’ve been looking for you all over!”

The two pals exchanged perfect white smiles, filled to the brim with glee. What could be better than life in Riverdale, with good buds and great manners?

Archie opened his mouth again “Hey Jug, Ronnie and I were about to go to Pop’s. Wanna tag along?”

“Golly, Archie! You know I can’t say no to Pop’s!”

The three friends all laughed in unison. They turned and began to walk down the street. The sun was shining on another perfect Riverdale day, and it was only noon! Who knew what kind of wacky adventures they could get in today?

TWO WEEKS LATER

Hiram sat and enjoyed a celebratory glass of wine. It had taken several nights of hard bargaining with Mayor McCoy to get what he wanted, but after pointing out the town’s high crime rate and lack of development (and also after making a few “charitable donations”), Hiram got what he finally wanted: ownership of Riverdale. He now truly felt on top of the world.

“This morning’s paper, sir.”

Hiram turned his head to watch as Smithers, the Lodge family’s long time assistant, came in to the room. Hiram thanked Smithers as he left a copy of the morning’s Riverdale Registrar on the table. Hiram truly didn’t care about most of the tat in that paper, even though he was technically it’s owner. But he flipped through, looking for one section that he had recently insisted they add.

“Bingo!” Hiram found what he was looking for as he flipped to the comics page. There at the top was a full-color page of comics labeled Archie and Friends. In today’s installment, Archie (clad in the most garish red bow tie Hiram had ever seen) was helping the neighbor’s kid find his model plane, before being tricked and falling into a swimming pool. Hiram found himself laughing. Archie had always been a gullible fool, it was nice to see that reflected in his new persona. And there right next to him was Jughead, laughing along and eating a sandwich.

Hiram enjoyed seeing what his two former nemeses were up to. He now had a copy of the Registrar delivered to his office every day so he could observe their ridiculously corny adventures. His eyes rolled along the page, looking at the various scenarios the boys found themselves in.

His eyes stopped at the end of the page where the strip had introduced a new character, and older gentleman in a waistcoat with slicked back hair.

And his blood froze as he saw Archie call this new character “Mr. Lodge”.

...Coincidence, surely? There was a Veronica in the strip, so maybe this Mr. Lodge was just her alternate universe father. Why on earth would he be in the strip?

Then, Hiram knew exactly why. In order to convince the witches to hand over their secrets, Hiram had promised to grant the witches legal ownership of their coven’s land, as it was within town limits. Hiram had of course told them what they wanted to hear, but in his legal proceedings earlier that day, he had laid out plans to turn the woodland containing the coven into a tourist lodge.

And somehow, they had found out.

Hiram maintained his composure, even as panic rose inside him. He had faced tougher foes before, and he wasn’t about to let a group of hokey witches take him down. He just had to think of what to do.

Only it was becoming terribly hard for Hiram to think, because a new voice was speaking to him:

“You’re a good boy, Hiram.”

#preppy #preppy tf #preppytf #stepfordization #bowtie #sweater vest #riverdale #archie andrews #Jughead #riverdale tf #suitandtie #suittf #suit tf

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changlingfamilies · 3 years

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Happy Anniversary

Remember back when I did the cover for the first Changling Families book and I said ‘twelve people was a little much’? Well, here are all 35 current members of the Changling Families! It took me over a week to do and nearly every character had to be drawn individually!

More info under the cut.

So many Characters! Than you to everyone who has held out with this fic series all this time!

I probably could have included Dick, Charlie, and Chuck if I REALLY wanted to but this was already a really tight squeeze so the three of them were not present for family picture day...I had originally wanted to put all the kids by their parents and to try and put the couples together but...those were unrealistic expectations...So all the adult couples are together and most of the kids are near their parental units. Exceptions being Douxie, Claire, Eli, and Aja.

There are three pieces of foreshadowing for those with a cleaver eye. A couple people have some design changes and there are two coloring mistakes. I forgot Barbara’s white hair, Douxie’s and Claire’s blue hair, and Merlin’s halfpipe hat was supposed to be plaid.

On the topic of Merlin, I based his outfit off of my grandfathers’ outfits. All three of them. This is to properly capture the fashion disaster the old man is. His hat is something my Pipi wears, his jacket and boots are something my Popa Karl would wear, and his band shirt and jeans are something my Grandpa, would wear. He is wearing an Ash Dispersal Pattern shirt. He’s gotta support his boy’s hobbies some how!

For Nari, I changed her outfit a little and just did what I used to do for Vulcans when I did Star Trek art. I gave her a normal human skin tone (In this case, the same one I used for Mary) and then over layed it with a semitransparent green layer.

Barla and Marla are wearing outfits that match each of their parents. Barla is wearing a onsie that matches Bular’s kilt and Marla is wearing a onsie that matches Bagwella’s dress.

Here's the character list for yall.

Top: Aja, Archie

1st row: Bagdwella, Barla, Bular, Marla, Arrrgh, Tronos, Draal, Erik, Angor, Stardust,

2nd row: Blinky, Otto, Lenora, Antonia, Walter, Barbara, Nomura, Morgana, Merlin

Front: Douxie, Nari, Elizabeth, Seamus, Cordelia, Mary, Toby, Claire, Xena, Jim, Wally, Eli, Krel, Darcy, Steve

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apwersonal · 7 years

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it's 12 am but i can't stop watching

#why tf can't cheryl inherit the family business? is this the 1800s #i can't get over betty always inviting jughead to breakfast lmao who does that?#that's the kind of relationship i'm trying to have lmao #THIS RED SWEATER PLAID SKIRT OUTFIT YES QUEEN CHERYL #that's gotta go on my list of winter looks. im buying that shit #maybe in emerald green instead though.... oooooh #im abt to make a new pinterest board #WHAT archie and val are boyfriend girlfriend official????#obviously in riverdale ppl don't 'talk' the way they do where i live

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flwrpotts · 4 years

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hands down

or: seven times jughead didn’t confess he loved betty and one time he did. some tooth rotting fluff to get us thru quarantine. the structure and concept of this fic is inspired by this. enjoy!

He knew that Archie’s bachelor party was going to end badly for him. It had started with Archie pressing a tequila shot into his hand before they had even gone to dinner, c’mon, Jug, it’s the only bachelor party I’m ever going to have! while Reggie and Moose had cheered in the background. He took the shot, lukewarm citrus and a rubbing alcohol bite. They drank steadily through dinner, boisterous and loud, and now they’re in a packed strip club, sweaty and bright with flashing lights.

He hasn’t been this drunk since college, five years at least, and he can feel himself slurring as he talks to Archie, everything hysterically funny all of a sudden. Betty texts him, a selfie of her and Veronica in a sleek looking bar, holding up their glasses of wine. Hope you’re having fun! she sends, and Jughead tries to formulate a text back, si goood i miss yoi so mughc, followed by a truly horrendous string of emojis.

Betty’s contact info lights up on the screen with an incoming call, and Jughead stumbles outside, away from the boiling music of the club. The night air is sharp with cold, and he sucks in an inhale, trying to clear the spinning in his brain.

“Hello?” he slurs into the phone, leaning heavily against the brick wall. Betty laughs, amused, and he misses her terribly, misses her even though he saw her that morning.

“Hi, Juggie,” she says. “Having fun?”

“I’m never doing tequila shots again,” he says, vowels blurry around the edge. “Not even for Archie.”

She laughs again, tinkling and amused, Veronica’s tipsy bright voice in the background. “You’re going to be okay getting home?” she asks, the faintest slip of concern in her voice.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, and suddenly the last round of shots catches up with him, any facade of sobriety gone. “I miss you so much,” he whispers into the phone, the words mushy and almost indiscernible. “Love you.”

There’s a quick, sharp intake of breath Jughead is almost too inebriated to catch.

“I’ll see you soon,” she says before the call clicks off. They don’t discuss it.

Jughead hauls Betty up onto the counter, his teeth already against her collarbone. This is something they indulge in rarely, when neither of them are seeing someone, or when work gets particularly stressful. Betty moans, and he gets a hand up to cup the back of her head, keeping her from knocking her head against the kitchen cabinets.

“Jug, Jug,” she says into his mouth, yanking up his shirt and getting her hands onto his stomach, nails sweeping low over his waistband. He has goosebumps running down his spine, and his blood rushes hot through his head, leaving no room for intellectual thought. He undoes the button and zipper of her jeans, his fingers clumsy with anticipation.

She sinks her teeth into his bottom lip, hard, and Jughead doesn’t know what to do with his hands, his brain is detached from the rest of his body. He hikes up her legs around his waist, pulling her even closer, and his vision is blurred with the flyaways of blonde hair and the sound of his name in her mouth. Her heel is pressed into the small of his back, keeping him pressed hard against her.

Betty moans again, louder this time, and Jughead’s hand flies to her mouth, remembering too late the thin walls of their apartment. Her breath is hot against his wrist, and his thumb dips against her bottom lip, mouth open. Her eyes open, a clear bright green, and it’s easily the hottest thing he’s ever seen, his pulse wired to hers.

“Fuck me,” she whispers into his palm. He wants to yank on her ponytail, wants to lick the cherry chapstick off of her mouth, wants to stay inside this moment forever, suspended by the longing.

He presses his mouth to the fragile, ivory skin of her neck as he fumbles to unhook her bra, and he exhales iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou, fervent and sticky hot, like a prayer, lost in the press of their mouths against one another.

Jughead waits for Valentine’s Day to arrive with the dread of a condemned man facing an executioner. The days of February tick by, and he waits patiently for Betty to mention a new romance, a guy she’s been seeing or a surprise hot date for the most romantic night of the year, waits for the Jones luck to really kick in. Finally, it’s the morning of, and she pads into the kitchen, startlingly beautiful in an oversized t-shirt and socks, glasses perched on her face, no mention of any plans.

“Dinner tonight?” he asks, all casual, heart in his throat, and Betty hums her agreement, absentminded and pouring coffee.

“Yeah, sure,” she says. “I get out of class at six, so six thirty?”

He makes reservations at a nice restaurant, dresses up in a nice shirt and yanks at the collar, feels awkward and out of place as the hostess guides him to the table, watching the elegantly paired up couples around him. The menu is definitely out of his price range, but he figures if he’s going to tell her he might as well make the grand gesture, give her the sort of romance she deserves.

Betty walks into the restaurant and for a single second everything in his head goes blank. It’s a secret phenomenon Jughead wouldn’t even know how to explain, the way she numbs everything out, makes everything better.

She folds herself into the seat in front of him, wearing a breezy, careless lavender dress and that familiar smile, ponytail falling in a perfect twist.

“God,” she says, picking up the menu and flicking through it mindlessly. “You won’t believe what happened in the coffee shop today. Is there anything more cliche than confessing your love on Valentine’s Day?”

He freezes.

Jughead gets home to the apartment late, cranky after being stuck in a social for the MFA students in his program. He yanks at his ill-fitting tie as he walks in the door, feeling some of the tension starting to seep out of his shoulders.

“Betts?” he calls, taking in the warm yellow glow of the hallway, light left on despite the lateness of the hour. Remnants of Betty’s evening are scattered through the apartment- dishes in the sink, a neat plate of leftovers in the fridge with a post-it note stuck on top, bolognese if you’re hungry <3

He steps into the living room, and Betty is passed out on the couch, surrounded by a stack of freshly graded papers, the sharp elegance of her handwriting crawling across the pages in bright red. She’s slumped at what must be an uncomfortable angle, legs tucked up underneath her and her head propped on her shoulder. The fondness pangs in Jughead’s ribs, sharp with longing. He just stares at her for a moment, the fine curl of the baby hairs at her temple, her mouth just a little bit open with sleep, all the lines in her face smoothed.

She’s so relaxed that Jughead doesn’t want to wake her, potentially kickstart the insomnia he knows gets to her when she’s stressed. So he picks up an old quilted afghan off of the other edge of the couch, tucks it up around her shoulders. Betty sighs in her sleep, shifting into the blanket and kicking one leg out.

I love you, Jughead mouths. I love you. Betty turns in her sleep, eyelids fluttering, and Jughead shuts the light off behind her, head full of the things he wishes he could tell her.

It’s Friday night, and the two of them are tipsy from the shared bottle of red wine, sprawled out on the living room floor with a Scrabble board between them. Betty sits cross-legged, flushed high in her cheeks from the wine and her hair loose around his shoulders. Jughead is raggedy in an old pair of plaid pajama pants and a threadbare t-shirt.

It’s his favorite kind of evening, Chinese takeout for dinner and easy conversation, laughing as Betty struggles with the wine bottle opener.

Now Betty is staring at her Scrabble tiles with intense concentration, a line between her eyebrows that he wants to smooth out with his finger.

“If you try to pass off a word that you made up again-” he warns, only half joking. Betty gasps in mock outrage, one hand to her chest. “I would expect someone getting their Masters in Psychology to have a more refined sense of ethics.”

“I would neve cheat at Scrabble,” she says imperiously, laying out her tiles and spinning the board back over to him. Zale reads the word in front of him. Betty, for her part, tries to look impartial and doesn’t quite manage it, the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Jughead feels the warmth burn inside of his chest.

“I love it when we do this,” he blurts out suddenly, awkward and out of place. Betty smiles at him, presses her hand to his from across the board.

“Me too,” she says. “And that will be twelve points for me, if you please.”

He loves her, but not enough to let her get away with such a stunningly illegal move. The night goes on.

Dear Betty,

I am writing to you now because I’m too terrified to tell you in person but I also can’t keep going on this way. Maybe a letter is the coward’s way out, but I prefer to think about it as romantic. To quote the genius herself (Jane Austen)- if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more. And I do love you.

I don’t know if it was at first sight, but do I know that the first time I saw you in that terrible freshman English lecture, it felt like something was beginning. Like some part of me knew that I was going to fall in love with you, my brain just hadn’t quite caught up yet. In some ways it still hasn’t. The way I feel about you has nothing to do with logic.

You’re my roommate and my best friend and my fellow true crime obsessee and the best fucking person I know. Having you in my life is one of the things I’m most proud of, and I’ve been so scared to ruin what we have, because in a lot of ways I think you’re the best part of me. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t there anymore. But I also can’t keep swallowing it down anymore. I guess I just have to trust that we’ll find a way to be in one another’s lives, no matter the capacity. Even if you don’t feel the same way.

Well, now you know. I love you. The ball is in your court, and it’ll really be okay if you don’t feel that way. I just need to know. So- come find me?

Yours,

Jughead

He sighs at the piece of paper, and balls it up with a groan, tossing it into the trash can with a faint thud.

It happens so fast Jughead barely has time to react.

They’re crossing the street of their apartment to get to their favorite overpriced but delicious coffee shop, chatting idly about Betty’s thesis advisor and her obsession with Lorrie Moore, and then the taxi comes out of nowhere against the light, inches away and Betty a step in front of him.

Jughead grabs her by the elbow and yanks her back in the nick of time, all adrenaline, moving before he even has time to process the danger, clumsy and fast. The taxi swerves past, a flurry of horns from the surrounding cars, and they stumble in an awkward, half time waltz back onto the sidewalk. Betty’s eyes are huge when she looks at him, shocked, his hand still fisted in the material of her coat.

“Holy fucking shit,” he swears, tongue a jumble. “Are you alright?” He begins to pat her down over her wool jacket, searching for potential injuries.

Betty laughs, still in shock at the suddenness of it all. “I’m fine,” she says, pressing a hand against her forehead. “I’m totally fine. You grabbed me in time.”

Jughead sighs out a shuddery, terrified exhale. The closeness of the encounter is still racketing through him, fear and relief pulsing through the veins in his wrist. His hands are shaking, and Betty squeezes one tightly in hers, reassuring.

“That was scary,” she remarks, and Jughead nods, for once beyond words. “The drivers in this city are ridiculous.”

“No kidding. I’m- I’m glad you’re okay,” he says, squeezing before he releases her hand. Betty smiles at him, easy and fond. It’ll take twenty minutes and two cups of decaf for his heartbeat to slow down.

They’re brushing their teeth side by side in the bathroom, seeped with the laziness of Saturday morning. There’s coffee percolating in the kitchen, and Jughead knows without asking that Betty will scramble the eggs so long as he makes waffles, that they’ll sit at the tiny kitchen counter for an hour, sipping at their lukewarm coffee and talking about nothing. It strikes him, quite suddenly, that this is how he’d like to spend the rest of his life.

Betty is wearing just one of his t-shirts, her hair knotted into a bun at the top of her head, talking to him through the foam. Jughead, blue toothbrush in hand, turns to her, deliberate and suddenly unafraid. “Betty,” he says, and she turns to him, gaze curious, and he looks for a moment at their reflection in the bathroom mirror, a portrait of exactly where he wants to be. “I love you.”

“What?” Betty asks, and there’s toothpaste smudged on her cheek, eyes wide.

“I love you,” he says, heart in his stomach again. Betty grins at him, slow and wide and perfect,

“I love you,” she says, like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world. He ducks down to kiss her, and her mouth is chapped and minty, and their teeth click together in his haste, and it’s pretty much the best moment of his life.

#mine #quarantine prompts #bughead #bughead fanfiction #Betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale #riverdale fanfic #this shit is so sappy I'm-

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bettycooperoutfitwatch · 3 years

Text

4x13 Chapter Seventy: The Ides of March

Hey. Sorry for disappearing. I was writing fic. And then I catalogued all of Jughead’s jackets. Pandemic, election. You know—stuff.

Anyway, season’s over (...sort of), let’s get to it!

okay lol.

Betty’s smart, Jug’s into it, and she knows it.

Her short-sleeve knit reminds me a bit of the sweater she wore to break into the Farm’s records room in 317, in that it’s a bit of a mishmash of colors and shapes. The cropped pants are something we’ve been seeing Betty wear in season 4 (see the last episode). I, personally, love a cropped trouser.

The pink platform Converse are the ones we first saw in 321, also at the Farm, but more recently were worn while working with Charles on FBI-ish Farm-hunting stuff in 402.

Do we think if Bret walked in and saw Betty in his chair, he’d be pissed? I feel like he’d be snitty about it. He seems the type.

Ah yes. Another turtleneck under a jumper (an American jumper, fyi). This is a season 4 uniform for Betty.

Light blue is something we’ve certainly seen her in quite a few times, but a dark forest green, with a v-neck? That’s newish.

The lettuce hems are sending me to the 90s.

Also—Betty drinking coffee? If I recall correctly, that’s how you know shit is going down?

Light-colored ankle boots—very season 1.

(Do you think Donna’s turned on? I think Donna’s turned on.)

(Backpack 2.0)

Behold those fuzzy slippers.

(head in hands)

The fckn dino bomber jacket. It’s Murder Day, y’all.

This outfit first appeared in a flash-forward in 409. The oatmeal-colored turtleneck was also worn in 410 (another turtleneck and cord jumper look), when B & V worked to infiltrate a different Stonewall party.

As for the plaid mini—Betty’s often worn tartan throughout the show as a nod to Jug, which—yeah, that works here, too. She wore this one in Quiz Show.

This bag has popped up throughout the season, first seen when Betty visited Stonewall with Jug in 402.

Based on this terrible screenshot and one from when she’s in the woods later that is just too dark to inflict upon you, I’m like 85% sure these are the iridescent oxfords she wears in 412.

I, too, am concerned with whatever is happening here.

As an aside:

A plot seedling set in motion in 407 comes home to roost. (Listen, I’m out of practice, don’t @ me if my metaphors are wonky.)

I hate it. But it does give us this (admittedly rare) moment of reality from Riverdale:

It’s true and I also hate it. Women suffer a disproportionate brunt of the negative results from what is misleadingly called revenge porn.

Fucking misogyny.

...This is a very Alice Cooper stance, Elizabeth.

If I’m completely honest, I still don’t get the plan. What’s the plan, Jug? What’s the bunny mask for? Note it’s the same mask Bret and Donna wore, also in 407—maybe Bret’s threat of blackmail made Jug think of it? How is this your means of getting rid of the leverage the Stonies have over you, Jug? I have questions.

Even Betty is like what’s the plan here I don’t get the plan.

Obviously the plan doesn’t come to fruition, because Jughead gets ~murdered~

idk V, you tell me!!!

Before we get to the end of this ep, let me just say the only folks doing this party right are Archie and Veronica, who sneak off to smash in the woods. Less murdering and getting framed for murder and being murdered, more smashing in the woods pls.

(Every time she says ‘make it’ I think of Joanne in Company.)

Liquid courage.

Whoops, didn’t work.

Summary: 3 outfits (not including a very brief flashback to her pajamas in 407)

Backpack 2.0?: hey friend.

The fucking dinosaur count: listen.

Best outfit: I’m not terribly partial to any of these? Let’s go with the green pinafore.

#4x13 #s4 #riverdale #betty cooper #betty cooper outfit watch

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jercnicas · 4 years

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the fact that veronica/jughead are wearing plaid and archie/betty wearing green...

#jeronica #barchie #archie x betty #betty x archie #jughead x veronica #veronica x jughead #always matching #got me thinking

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years

Text

notable moments from The Ice Man Job

leverage 2.08

Hardison: Jim Kerrity III. He took over Kerrity Diamonds four years ago after his old man retired, and in that small amount of time, he drove the business straight into the ground by living way beyond his means.

(Parker is restless on the couch and Eliot pushes her away from him)

Hardison: I'm talkin' drugs, booze, women.

(Parker continues to moves restlessly)

Hardison: According to his credit card statements... What? Why? What are you doin'?

Parker: What?

Eliot: What?

Parker: What?

Eliot: It's distracting.

Parker: The couch is feeling a little empty.

Nate: Eliot, will you please sit next to Parker.

Eliot: No, I'm sittin' here now.

Nate: Guys, guys. We all miss Sophie. I, we just have to adapt.

Hardison: I got this. Move, go.

(Hardison sits next to Parker on the couch)

Hardison: You happy? (picks up keyboard)

parker can’t get comfortable because she misses sophie. she’s never had friends/close family before (minus archie but that’s irrelevant) and sophie was one of her people and she doesn’t know how to cope properly when she loses them

the ot3 sitting together as they should

- - - - -

Nate: You know what, the thing about this that people don't understand is insurance fraud, it's a lot of red tape, and with a big claim like this, it'll take a year before Kerrity sees any money, and the bill collectors are not gonna wait around. He's gotta fence the diamonds.

Parker: He can't. (grabs the remote and changes the monitors)

Eliot: What do you mean?

Parker: His diamonds are GIA certified, VVS clarity, all about two carats.

Hardison: That's my clicker.

Parker: Who stole the Polar Star? (raises her hand) Who stole the Gem of Gibraltar? Damiani raid? Me. I know diamonds, and our bad guy can't fence those diamonds because stones that size have an ID number laser-inscribed on them.

Eliot: So it’s like a stolen car. Gotta clean the VIN before you can sell 'em.

Nate: How do you get that ID number off?

Parker: With a special laser. But only three guys can do it. Antwerp, Dubai, Tel Aviv

SHE KNOWS HER DIAMONDS

- - - - -

[Flashback]

Parker: Hi.

Man: Hello.

Parker: Buy me a drink?

Man: You got it. (gestures to the bartender and puts his hand on Parker’s knee) So?

(Parker grabs his fingers and breaks them, then picks up a briefcase and hits him in the chest before heading away, almost falling)

we LOVE to see parker not tolerating slimy men and hurting them when they touch her

- - - - -

Parker: Yeah, I'll be fine.

(later Parker is crouched behind the counter talking on the phone)

Parker: I will not be fine. I stabbed that guy with a fork.

[London Bar]

Sophie: Parker, Parker, relax. It's fine. Listen. Go to Nate's cupboard and you're gonna find a sexy little mini-dress and my emergency Jimmy Choos.

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: Jimmy who? You have a body in Nate's closet? (she looks excited)

[London Bar]

Sophie: Shoes, Parker. Didn't I teach you any...? All right, listen. This is the important bit. Do you still have the Rosalind Diamond you stole in Perth?

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: Yes.

[London Bar]

Sophie: Wear it. The diamond will speak for you. You won't have to say a word. This is the key to the grift. You just trust the character. Say nothing, trust the diamond.

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: I can do that. Don't tell Nate I called.

[London Bar]

Sophie: I won't.

- - - - -

bruh parker is SO HOT in that blue dress with her diamond that she stole I’m-

- - - - -

Hardison: All right. Lay the arms down, brother. He's cool.

(Eliot lets Kerrity go)

Hardison: You have to excuse my bodyguard. He's touchy. It's 'cause he's a mute.

eliot looks ready to beat hardison’s ass for a hot second

also I LOVE eliot’s little braids in his hair

- - - - -

Kerrity: What kind of thief calls himself a thief?

Hardison: An uncatchable one with a brilliant reputation. You've seen my work in Perth. The Polar Star? Nicked it. The Gem of Gibraltar? Nicked it. The Damiani raid? Distraction while I nicked everything in the vault next door. Big stones, trust me.

(behind Hardison, Parker is pacing angrily)

eliot gives her a Look™ when she looks like she’s going to interrupt hardison because he KNOWS how pissed she is

- - - - -

(Parker is at the kitchen bar, locks and picks spread out in front of her. She’s focused on picking a lock)

Eliot: Ice Man?

Hardison: Hey, I put a lot of work into that character. No, no. No, I bought new clothes, ugly as hell, too.

Eliot: This always happens when you go on the grift, Hardison.

Hardison (*): I put stories on the website.

Eliot: You go too big.

Parker: Sophie told me to say as little as possible, let the character do the work.

Nate: When did, uh, Sophie say that?

Parker: A long time ago. Maybe last Christmas. I don't even think it was Sophie.

Nate: I'm gonna go put more pressure on Kerrity. I want you guys to be on the clear-out. Ice Man, play it cool. That's just an awful, awful name.

Hardison: Genius.

Eliot: See?

Hardison: It's genius.

Eliot: When you get in too deep on this, I ain't bailin' your ass out.

Hardison: I don't need you to bail me out. I'm the Ice Man.

Eliot: Not. Gonna. Help

parker picks locks when she’s upset/annoyed/distressed and I love that continuity for her in the show

also eliot you buffoon you’ll always help hardison you’re fooling literally no one

- - - - -

Guard: There's a Mr. Sterling here from the insurance company.

LMFAO NATE YOU DIDNT

- - - - -

Eliot (on phone): I know. He's driving me crazy. How, huh? I'm backup, they can't rely on me. All right, all right. Hey, thanks. Don't tell Nate I called.

Parker: Who was that?

Eliot: Cable company

eliot is more upset than anything because he’s been put into a position where he can’t protect them as well. THATS what he’s mad enough about to call sophie about it.

also this picture meme describes the situation perfectly

- - - - -

Eliot: Whoa! Whoa! What are you people doin' here?!

Woman: We work here. Who are you?

Parker: We're with OSHA.

Eliot: We issued a class-one evacuation notice for this facility effective 24 hours ago.

Parker: This place is on lockdown for chemical exposure.

Eliot: Nobody read the memo?

Parker: Did nobody read the memo?! You, cough!

(Parker holds a pad to the woman’s mouth and she coughs into it)

Woman: What chemical?

Eliot: Given the set-up for this place, it could be a matrix of solid phase sulfates, uh, nitrates.

(Parker shows a blackened pad to the woman)

Woman: That's inside me?

Eliot: Honey, your lungs are a parking lot, sweetheart.

Parker: And in that parking lot, the diagonal lines are painted with poison.

(parker turns and looks at eliot, who shakes his head slightly in exasperation)

Eliot: People, move towards the door, all right?

Parker: Do not inhale unless you are 50 feet from the entrance. Yeah.

(all the workers leave the room)

eliot just sighing at parker’s antics is beautiful

- - - - -

Nate: All right, nice work, guys. Tomorrow, when he shows up with the diamonds, the state police will be there.

[Exterior Street]

Eliot: Why, so they can arrest Hardison's ego?

Hardison: Be cool, baby. Ice cool. Hey, who wants to go for a spin?

Eliot: Can't believe you rented a Ferrari.

Hardison: Rented?

Parker: I'll get a ride home with Eliot.

(Eliot and Parker move away and get into his truck before driving away)

Hardison: Y'all are just jealous. Oh, they just jealous, baby. Don't worry about that. Look at ya. Lookin' better than green-

okay so now we know hardison in canon owns a red ferrari convertible

- - - - -

Hardison (makes call): Yeah, yeah. Sheila, not makin' it in tonight. Yeah, work thing. Bugger all.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: Hardison? Are you calling me in character?

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: I told you, butternut. It's work. I can't get out of it.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: What accent is that? Ooh. Ooh, you've been nabbed.

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: Afraid so.

Sophie: Is it the mark?

Hardison: No. No, muffin, no.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: It's the goons. You oversold the part.

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: You fell into the trap of the overzealous henchman.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: Don't worry. It happens all the time. As long as they're not Russians.

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: It's gonna be a bit of a problem.

Sophie: It's the Russians? I'm gonna have to phone Nate.

Hardison: Uh, leave it off, crumpet.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: No, no, no, listen. Hardison—

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: --you cannot talk your way out of Russians.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: I mean, you can stall them maybe for a bit, but whatever you do--

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: --do not tell them you can do anything else. (hangs up)

Hardison: Smooches. Love her. (puts down phone)

- - - - -

Eliot: I had courtside seats, man. Tell Hardison if he makes it out alive, I'm gonna snap him in half.

Nate: Uh, Eliot says hi.

again, eliot, you ain’t foolin no one

- - - - -

parker sitting on the dining table,,, I love it when she perches herself on things

- - - - -

eliot is wearing a checkered/white plaid shirt with flowers on it it’s adorable

- - - - -

(Kerrity is placing a necklace on a woman’s neck)

Kerrity: Wow, that looks beautiful. Three hundred thousand dollars on your neck. (Nate knocks on the door) Oh. Amy, I'm gonna meet you at the bar, sweetie, OK? You'll earn that later. Let's go. Excellent. This had better be important.

y’all nasty

- - - - -

we love to see eliot knocking people out with one punch

+ him apologizing to the unconscious guard after

- - - - -

(Parker lays a magnetic strip over the two halves of the sensor)

Parker: This will hold them together.

Eliot (hands her a screwdriver): Electric's faster.

Parker: Vibrations will set off the seismic sensor.

(Eliot leaves the vault as Parker moves the sensors to one side and replaces them with false sensors. She then works on getting the combination)

- - - - -

Eliot buzzes Hardison in. Hardison fakes punching Eliot, who goes down. Hardison continues to fake beating Eliot up)

Eliot: Next time, I'm playing the thief.

Hardison: I'd like to hear you do an accent.

Eliot: I'd like to hear you do an accent.

Hardison: I went to Second City in Chicago.

(outside the Russian and his men watch Hardison beating Eliot)

[Vault]

(Parker writes the combination to the vault on the handle in what looks like invisible ink)

Eliot: When’d you find time between that and karate at the Y?

Hardison: You know what? Just shut up.

Parker: Shut up, guys

chaotic ot3

- - - - -

(Parker hangs on to the vault door as it swings shut, then jumps to an overhead pipe)

[Kerrity Diamonds]

(Eliot watches Parker move across the vault in a security monitor)

Eliot: Stuck it

this is cute okay, his proud lil face

- - - - -

hardison also carries a black light on his keychain ???

- - - - -

I’m sorry, I’m but a simple wlw and parker hanging upside down doing her thing is beautiful

- - - - -

[Flashback]

Hardison: Shh! Do you hear that? Diamond Jim's comin' down here. You go and stop him while I nick the diamonds.

(the Russian and his men turn to the vault doorway. Hardison backs away. Parker steps out of one of the larger boxes and pulls Hardison into it)

Hardison: Thank you, and I mean thank you, but how are we gettin' out of here?

(Parker pulls out some sort of electronic device)

Hardison: What is that?

Parker: Shh! Pull your arms in.

(the device beeps as Parker enters a code. After a moment, an explosion collapses the floor beneath them and they fall into the tunnels below where Eliot helps Parker to her feet)

Eliot: Det cord.

eliot helping them off the ground? domestic ot3

- - - - -

Eliot: What are you smilin' at? You still screwed it up.

Hardison: I'm smiling 'cause you said if I got in trouble, you wouldn't help me.

Eliot: Parker made me.

Parker: No, I didn't.

Hardison: Come on, man. Let's hug it out.

Eliot: I'm not huggin' it out, Ice Man.

Hardison: Just hug it... Just a little man love.

(Hardison puts his arm around Eliot’s shoulders. Eliot tries to push him away)

Eliot: I'm not huggin' it out with you. No...

Hardison (stands to move closer to Eliot): It’s not—

Eliot: Sit down in your stool.

Hardison: Don't make this awkward.

Eliot: What are you doin', man?

Hardison: This is uncomfortable now.

(Hardison lays his head on Eliot’s shoulder as Eliot continues to try and push him away)

Hardison: Get in the pits.

Eliot: I'm gonna break your frickin’ arm.

parker shuts eliot down immediately because eliot needs to step up for his actions

ALSO, ELIOT LEANED HIS FOREHEAD IN FOR ONE (1) SECOND. HE TOTALLY SECRETLY LOVED IT

also this meme sums up the entire episode

* sorry the script said something wrong and I don’t feel like going back to check lol

#leverage #leverage 2.08 #leverage 2x08 #the ice man job #leverage season 2 #season 2 #notable moments #mine

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excvlsior · 3 years

Text

about: *leo fowler.

basics.

full name: leopold kristoff fowler meaning of name: leopold = ‘people’ & ‘bold’, kristoff = ‘bearing christ’ nickname: leo, tadpole by some family members age: 23 date of birth: november 12, 1996 hometown: tallahassee, florida nationality: american ethnicity: dutch gender: demiboy sexuality: pansexual spoken languages: dutch, english profession: in lovell he’s a part time student and works at fowler’s flowers, but just the latter in st. louis

appearance.

height: 6′2″ eye colour: blue hair colour: auburn??? i feel like that’s the version of if someone had strawberry blond hair bt . strawberry brown instead??? idk it’s reddy-brown voice: pretty deep, surprisingly smooth jst feel like he has the personality of someone with a rougher voice bt . alas...... obnoxiously thick southern accent tattoos: c’est la vie on his ribcage, kristoff on his hip, ‘x’ on the inside of his middle finger done in shitty stick and poke, ‘L’ done in stick and poke on the side of his wrist, heart with a knife through it on his chest, tattoo inside his lip that says ‘pussy master’* :pensive:, ‘ouch’ on the bottom of both soles of his feet*, a hand giving the middle finger on the back of his left calf, dolly parton’s signature on the top of his thigh from when he got it at one of her concerts, a smiley face on his ass* >_>, a melting popsicle on the back of his right bicep*, ghost face mask on his right shin; * = he did them on a dare LKHSDGKLHLSDG piercings: lobes, right cartilage, industrial bar in his left ear, nostril, had an eyebrow and lip piercing when he was younger clothing style: pretty dishevelled and purposely ill prepared outfits, sometimes u can catch him in just plaid and khakis but more often than not he’s in something weird, his prized possession is a leopard print shirt that has a heart in the center, steals clothes from his aunt and uncle when he has nothing clean/can’t bother finding anything, been seen in marj’s skirts and leggings bc of this, and then on the other hand he’ll wear like a lime green tank top with a monster baseball cap worn sideways his style is just carefree and eclectic

health.

physical ailments: n/a neurological conditions: bipolar i disorder allergies: n/a sleeping habits: pretty much only falls asleep between the hours of 3-5 am, doesn’t matter if he works the morning or afternoon shift....... if he doesn’t work at all he’ll just sleep until his body naturally wakes up which is also usually around 3-5 pm KLSDGLKHSDGLKHDG exercise habits: doesn’t exactly have one..... he’s a pretty active and energetic guy so he’s usually up and about doing whatever anyway, also rides his bike everywhere since marj and steve r usually out with the only car they have sociability: loves being around people but he’ll eventually grow cranky, doesn’t necessarily need to be alone but at least with a different group of people if he gets to this point, the only time he actively doesn’t really want to see people is when he’s having a depressive episode but those don’t last too long as is drink / smoke / drugs: yes / yes / yes

personality.

positive traits: adventurous, courageous, determined, funny, gregarious, independent, quick-witted, tough, versatile negative traits: belligerent, cantankerous, foolhardy, harsh, impulsive, parsimonious, sarcastic, tactless, unpredictable, vulgar goals/desires: lowkey he’d never admit it but he just kinda wants his parents’ approval in the end, and also maybe to find something better than supervisor at a flower store (no offence to marj and steve its just not his dream) fears: staying committed and missing out on different opportunities/people that could change his life, the fact that he probably can’t do any better than be a supervisor at a flower store tbh hobbies: drinking, drawing a bit tbh, thrifting, loves collecting random knick knacks and is personally loving buttons rn, harassing his friends<3, making stupid tiktoks that somehow have gotten him a kind of big following habits: swearing obnoxiously without caring, yells in dutch when he’s frustrated which he’s mostly picked up on cuz everyone else in his family does it, stares more than what is socially acceptable tbh, refuses to walk under ladders

favourites.

weather: sunny with some clouds colour: dark green music: likes a lot of 90s and early 2000s rap and rock, old school country like he loves dolly parton LKSDHGKLHSDGLK rly enjoys elvis presley too, some edm or anything that he can jst dance wildly to movies: old school slasher films, screams his fav movie series ever food: spaghetti bt specifically w marj’s Phenom homemade meat sauce<3 drink: grape juice, whiskey sour

relationships.

father: steven fowler is his uncle but currently his legal guardian, he’s a co-owner of fowler’s flowers and is kind of a mess but in like the fun way....... LKSHDGKLHSLDG he just spends a lot of the day in nothing but boxers and socks w their cat on his lap watching the weather report if he’s not working, has the weird energy of someone who would be running like a joke shop instead of being a florist. archibald fowler is leo’s biological dad but he sucks Big Time, giant business typhoon i hvnt . figured out 100% wht sort of business bt hes got Money bt doesnt even rly want anything to do w leo he jst sees him as a massive disappointment bc archie’s nothing but a loser fart of a square. mother: marjorie fowler’s his aunt and other legal guardian also the other co-owner of fowler’s flowers, literally the sweetest woman on the planet like she’s never done anything wrong in her life n u can take tht to the bank. she’s a bit weird n super spiritual, their house constantly smells like random herbs and rly intensely of flowers and plants bc she makes so many home remedies bt she’s an angel a fkin ANGEL!!!!! renata kline’s leo’s mom n she’s like . fine ig she was pretty negligent n her best friend is a bottle of wine....... she rly peaked at a young age when she was a pageant girl n she still coaches n stuff now bt she’s obvs rly sad so leo tries not to lose it on her too much even tho he thinks she’s annoying LKSHDGKLHSLDKGKLSDG siblings: augustus is his oldest brother and he’s pretty cool, probs the brother leo is closest with even tho he considers him boring bt it’s only bc he’s . actually responsible n wht not they had a lot of fun growing up together tho when leo visited new york. mikhael is the devil, he’s actually a bit of a cunt n both him n leo have expressed their hatred fr each other without missing a beat i think they actually dnt hv any love or affection fr the other in the slightest SKLDHGLKSDHG. vaughn n leo r closest in age he’s not tht much younger n he’s probs the shiest of them, pretty soft spoken n well meaning, him n leo dnt rly keep in contact too much anymore bt theres a special place in his heart fr vaughn he’s pretty protective even tho he bullies him a lot bt thts besides the point. willhelm’s the youngest n it kinda shows he’s pretty idgaf attitude n rly blunt bt he’s also funny n probs the biggest partier outside of leo so he gets a pass whenever he rolls his eyes in leo’s face. pets: mitzie’s an 8 year old tortoiseshell cat who lives primarily on ppls laps shes literally more lap dog than cat significant other: n/a family’s financial status: middle class

extra.

zodiac sign: scorpio<3 mbti: estp - the entrepeneur enneagram: the epicure temperament: sanguine hogwarts house: gryffindor moral alignment: chaotic neutral primary vice: pride primary virtue: dilligence element: fire

#muse | leo fowler.#dabs my forehead #this took me a thousand years bt the deeds #finally done.

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riverdalenerdlol · 5 years

Photo

push my button (any time)

Riverdalenerdlol

Inspired by 4x02 and Billie Eilish’s COPYCAT

You hardly remembered how you went from talking about the future - the one that seemed so far away - to Veronica and Archie leaving the room. All you knew was that Betty had leaned down to kiss you once… and then her legs were hanging off the side of your lap, her hands framing your face. One of your hands was on her back and another was gently pushing her skirt up and stroking the skin of her thigh, pulling her closer. Her leg had hitched up across you and you pulled it up higher, taking a handful of the back of her leg. She rocked against you a little as you made out, naturally pushing and pulling.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of ginger and black hair, then Betty pulled away. You were still looking at her, but you saw what she was looking at and you also watched them retreat to Veronica’s room. When you looked back at each other, Betty smiled at you, giggling faintly as you grinned back. You didn’t really remember how you got up, either. It was more of a mix of you lifting Betty off and her pulling you to your feet as she skipped backwards into the middle of the living room, your lips still attached. She pulled away with one of the brightest smiles you'd ever seen.

Her hot pink sweater, the one that had teased you with that little strip of skin it exposed, was the first thing shed. She helped you get it off as she sunk her teeth into her plump bottom lip - or rather, you tried to help you pull it off of her but she had it handled - and it was gone in the blink of an eye. Your t-shirt followed almost immediately - just after Betty sent the beanie flying - and then your hands were on her neck, pulling her in for a searing kiss. She kissed back, holding your wrists and forearms, trying to pull you closer as you took a few steps closer to the couch.

Read Here on AO3 or under the cut

She had always wanted you closer, it seemed, ever since the start of the summer. Just before the end of your junior year was when Hal Cooper was buried. There were ten people at most at the service, including you, Betty, and the pastor. The other guests that had been there weren’t there for Hal, they were there for Betty… but no one had really been there for her as much as you had, Archie and Veronica falling in step right behind you.

They weren’t there when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night, gasping and gripping your t-shirt so hard you thought she was trying to rip it off of you. They weren’t there when she had panic attacks in the shower because you’d let go of her hand for the shortest of seconds. They weren’t there when you lulled her back to sleep, or had to bring her melatonin so she could sleep. They had never been a victim of Betty’s death grip, whether she was asleep or awake. That happened when she would try and pull Alice, Polly, or Hal back while she was dreaming that they were abandoning her… again.

Most of the time, you didn’t let her use sex when she was trying to forget about her repeated terror dreams. You would always hold her, always dry her tears, always keep her company, always stay close enough so she knew you were there. There were, of course, a few times where it was unnegotiable that she absolutely did need you like that, and then you would pound into her until you both saw stars multiple times. After two or three rounds, her eyelids would droop halfway and she’d kiss you lazily, sleepily telling you she loved you before her soft, delicate body curled up in your arms. You would reply with the same, kissing her forehead sweetly as you laid her back on the pillows and tucked her in. Only then would you both be able to sleep soundly, your nose in her blonde hair.

Today, however, was different. You both needed each other desperately. You’d even given Archie and Veronica a show and a half before they left, just to prove the point. She pulled you back to reality by diving her tongue into your mouth, sliding her hand down your chest to your waist.

You let her lips go and pulled away, placing your hands on her hips firmly. She seemed sad at the loss of lip contact, but you gently pushed her around, pulling her backside into your pelvis. Her hands wandered towards the front of her skirt, but you got there first, pushing her hands away and undoing the buttons yourself, keeping her solidified to your body. She hummed when you pushed her skirt down and she let the material fall to the floor before she kicked it away.

You could tell Betty wanted to turn around and reciprocate the favor, her hands trying to grab you from behind her, but you kept a solid grip on her waist. You held her with one hand while the other pulled her soft blonde curls away from the back of her neck. You could feel her smile, even from behind her. You knew that she was happy as you bumped your nose against the spot between her neck and shoulder, then kissed there and trailed a few more down. Betty looked like she was going to reach for you before you kissed her sweet spot. She hummed in satisfaction, placing her palm on her shoulder and letting it fall again. She tilted her head so you could have more access and you smiled against her skin, teeth grazing against one of the vertebrae of her spine. She shivered under your hands.

“I love you, Juggie,” she whispered breathlessly, arching back against you, her backside pressing into your hardness. Her hand reached back and gripped your hair, her nails raking against your scalp.

“I love you too, Betty,” you replied against her skin, coming up to kiss her jaw and cheek sweetly.

“I want you on top tonight,” she whispered. Arousal shot down and straight through you. You knew that she felt the change… and you could tell she was happy about it, too.

“Whatever you want,” you said, spinning her back around, locking lips once more. You then scooped her into your arms. She giggled, slinging her arms around your neck and kissing your jaw as you made your way to the couch. You tossed her onto it and she bounced with a squeak and a giggle, smiling brightly as you climbed over her, hovering above her and settling between her legs.

Betty cupped your cheek, pulling you down for a steamy kiss and placing a palm over your Serpent tattoo. You rocked against her before pulling back, realizing you still had your pants on. Betty’s hands moved down to your waistband, popping the button and pulling the zipper down as she bit her lip. You pushed your pants down, haphazardly kicking them off of your legs and across the room. Betty pulled you back in once more, her tongue automatically entering your mouth. You groaned as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, her other hand gripping your hair and raking her nails against your scalp. You bucked against her and she wiggled her hips in response. She sighed into your mouth and you caught it, only kissing her harder.

One of your arms came down beside her head, your fingers tangling in her blonde hair. You tugged slightly and her chest rammed into yours. You bucked into her - hard. She moaned, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again. The pure green of her irises stunned you, the color swirling with want and desperation. Her hands dropped to your black and white plaid boxers, shoving them down.

“Please, Jug,” she whined.

That one request reminded you of the way she’d woken up that morning. She’d been crying - another nightmare. She woke you up as she clung to you, her body shaking with cries, pleading for you to hold her tighter… to make her feel safe. Your eyes had shot open, obliging immediately as she trembled and whimpered your name into your ear.

Shaking the memory out of your head, you resurfaced, helping her slide your boxers down as you sprung free. Once yours were gone, Betty’s underwear came off next. She wiggled her hips, helping you slide them off before you could throw them across the room. Nudging her, she moaned as you hovered back over her, sliding your hands under her back to undo her ice blue bra. The clasp came undone easily, then the garment was gone in the blink of an eye and your mouth was all over the newly exposed skin. Betty arched into your touch, gasping and moaning as you teased her with your tongue.

“Fuck, Jughead,” she breathed, her chest heaving as she forced herself to breathe. Betty inserted her fingers in your hair again, pulling you away from her skin. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Before I’ve had my dessert?” you asked, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes.

“Please, Juggie?” she replied, returning the same look at him. He usually got what he wanted when he did that… but Betty’s puppy-dog eyes would always win in a fight. “You can clean up after.”

“I’ll take that,” you replied, climbing over her to press a sound kiss to her lips once more. She pulled off the bed, her arms around your neck. You lowered your hips to where you knew they fit with hers. Without warning, you slid all the way into her. She was going to say something, but she choked on her words immediately, moaning. You smiled smugly, knowing that sometimes she hated when you did that, especially when she was mid sentence. She clawed her nails on your back a little at the sudden movement.

“You know how much I hate that,” she said. “But I’ll forgive you because you feel so good.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” you replied, pressing kisses to her pulse point as you gave her only shallow thrusts to tease her. You grinned but she snarled, digging her nails into the meat of your shoulders.

“More,” she demanded, gripping your shoulders painfully. You obliged immediately, keeping a hand grounded in the roots of her blonde hair, your other hand slipping down to her thigh, hauling her leg up and hitching it around your waist. She moaned, cupping your face and crashing your lips to hers as you drove deeper into her, your hand tracing her cotton-soft skin.

She moaned into your mouth as you slid in and out slowly, pushing in deeply and making her choke on her own words.

“F--uhmm,” she fumbled again. “Faster, please,” she clarified, swallowing hard. “Please, Juggie.”

Removing your lips from hers, you buried your face in her neck, gripping her hips soundly. You pushed forward faster and worked up to a speed where you were suddenly afraid of hurting her. Her fingernails dug into your back as you snapped your hips into hers. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, along with her indecipherable noises (she was almost babbling).

You bit into the skin of her neck, feeling yourself getting closer and closer, then soothed the area with your tongue. You kissed a line down her jawbone as she held onto you for dear life while you fucked her into the plush pillows on the couch.

Her hair formed a halo, golden silk splayed around her head, her eyes shut in pleasure. She was positively glowing - the polar opposite from how she’d woken up that morning. Her nails were digging into all of the right places, scraping just harsh enough for it to feel good. Your hands planted firmly on her, your fingers splayed, trying to hold as much of her soft flesh as you could.

You squeezed her ass as you brought your lips back to hers. She squeaked, gripping your shoulders harshly. It was then that a wave of warmth washed over you and you knew that you wouldn’t last much longer.

“Juggie,” she whined breathily, her green irises barely visible in her darkening eyes. “I can’t--” She gulped harshly. “I’m almost--”

“I know, baby,” you replied, lowering your face to her neck again, licking a stripe on her jawbone. She shuddered under you. “Let go.”

“Juggie--”

You pounded into her relentlessly, pulling her leg higher on your hips. You pushed even deeper into her, hitting the spot that made her see white.

“Just a little more,” she breathed. You continued your movements, but lifted her hips slightly, bringing your open palm down hard on the soft skin of her ass in a sharp slap. She shouted your name and you felt her release resonate through your body, triggering your own. Her name fell from your lips softly as you kissed the skin of her neck and let your orgasms run their course.

You gently worked her through it, knowing full well how sensitive she would be after a love-making session like that. You were so close to falling on top of her when she wrapped her arms around your neck, breathily moaning in your ear.

“I love you, Jughead,” she whispered as you slowed, pressing a kiss to your cheek and massaging the back of your head tenderly. You hummed, gently slipping out of her. You trailed kisses, starting by stamping one on her forehead, then moving down to her temple, her cheek, her jaw. You placed a passionate one on her lips.

“I love you too, Betty Cooper,” you whispered, continuing your ministrations. You pulled the skin of her neck between your lips just enough to make her sigh a little heavier. Her shoulder. Across her chest (she held your head there, sighing when your inky hair slipped from between her fingers). Her shoulder. Her collarbone. You cherished her breasts when you made your way down to them, not enough to spark another orgasm, but enough to make her hum in delight.

You continued down her abdomen, feeling her muscles contract under your lips and fingers. You kissed her hip bones, then down to where she wanted you most. You lapped at her tenderly, knowing she was sensitive from your prior activities. You held her legs under your armpits to keep her from kicking you in the face (she’d done it before when you made her come three times in a row with your mouth). You licked and sucked there only long enough to clean her up, not wanting to torture her further by building up another release.

When you were done, you crawled back up her body, your dark hair messy and your eyes halfway closed, still in the haze of your orgasm. She smiled when you hovered over her, then laid yourself on top of her. She giggled as you wrapped your arms around her waist, holding tightly. Betty had to push the hair out of your eyes and you leaned into her gentle touch as she did so.

“You’re amazing,” she whispered, looking into your eyes and stroking your chin with her thumb. “But I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Bettyyyyyy,” you whined.

“I’ll only be a minute, Jug,” she replied. “Promise.”

“Fine.”

You got off of her and helped her up, watching her find her undergarments - and an item you thought was yours - before scurrying away. You couldn’t help but smile smugly. Mine, you thought, reaching down to pick up your plaid boxers, sliding them back onto your hips. Having a little extra time on your hands, you separated Betty’s clothes from yours so she’d be able to find hers in the morning.

When you were done, you noticed Betty standing in the doorway, your burgundy S t-shirt hanging on her light frame, the bottom hem falling just past her underwear. She leaned against the doorframe, biting her lip at you.

“Like what you see?” you joked. She nodded, skipping over to you. “I know I like what I see,” you added. She blushed, smiling brightly. You swung your other arm around her pulling her flush against you so you could leave a soft kiss on her lips. “How do you feel?”

“Wonderful,” she replied joyfully, bouncing on her toes slightly and averting her eyes. You could read her and she knew it. There was something else. “And a little tired,” she admitted. You placed your hand on her shoulder, stroking her caringly with your thumb.

“Come here,” you whispered, taking her hand before you sat on the couch. You laid on your side, back pressed against the back of the couch. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and laid in front of you, her warm body leaning against yours. You brushed your nose against her shoulder and wrapped your arms around her, sealing her against you. One of her soft, delicate hands wrapped around your forearm, holding you there. She shuffled back a little, truly nestling herself in your arms.

“What’s on your mind, Jug?” she asked you, laying her head against one of the plush pillows.

“You,” he replied. “And only you… and maybe that amazing round of sex we just had.” Betty giggled at that.

“Okay, but seriously,” she said, shifting in your arms and rolling over so that she was looking at you. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, Jug?” You’d forgotten for a split second that she could read you as easily as you could read her.

“Your family,” you whispered, pushing a blonde curl out of her face. “Everything that happened last year… and how it’s been affecting you.” She traced your jaw with her finger.

“Charles doesn’t have much of a lead on my mom. He thinks we might be compromised,” Betty whispered. “And my dad… You know...” She gulped. “It’s been hard without them these last few months but… I think I’m gonna be okay, so long as you’re right here with me, Jug.”

“And the nightmares?” you continued. “What about those?” She averted her eyes, sighing.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’ll make them go away. I’m not sure if there's anything we can do…”

“Maybe if you can get your mom back, they’ll go away.”

“Just… please, Jug… don’t leave me… not like they did,” she pleaded brokenly.

“I won’t. I promise, Betty,” you replied, kissing her lips. She folded her arms behind your neck, pushing into the kiss. Slowly, you laid her on her back, your hand wandering down to her waist. She cupped your cheek with her hands, opening her legs just enough for you to settle your knees between them.

This time it wasn’t as fast. You weren’t fucking her this time. You were making love. You took your time, making her fall over the edge once with your fingers, once with your mouth, and once while you were buried inside of her.

You went on and off for the rest of the night, making love, then talking softly until your words triggered your collective lust for each other. Eventually - around two in the morning - you had to stop her, getting her into your t-shirt and her panties, your boxers strung on your hips.

As you spooned together on the couch and could sense the lavender scent wafting off of her, you thought that your senior year would never get better than this, even though it hadn’t even started yet.

You knew that here, laying next to the love of your life, was more than you could ever ask for.

But seeing Betty run around Veronica’s penthouse frantically the next morning in nothing but her underwear and your t-shirt… you smiled smugly, knowing that you could get used to seeing her like that every day for the rest of your life.

#riverdale #bughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #fanfic #mine #ao3 #4.02 #riverdalenerdlol

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bumblesimagines · 4 years

Text

Bad Girls Are Better

Request: Yes or No

Listened to Ashnikko while writing this

(Y/N) pulled up her fishnets, admiring herself in the mirror.

"The baddest bitch has arrived." (Y/N) whispered, sliding on some shorts and grabbing her black lipstick, applying it. She picked her backpack and headed out of her room, grabbing an apple and following her driver out of the fancy apartment. (Y/N) got into the limo, checking her phone.

"Excited?"

"It's fucking Riverdale. A murder happened, so what? It's still a boring ass town." (Y/N) huffed.

"Maybe you'll make some friends. Miss Veronica Lodge is attending Riverdale High." Her driver reminded. (Y/N) scoffed.

"As if I wanna be friends with that stuck up bitch." (Y/N) crossed her arms, looking out the window. She took a bite out of her apple, chewing on it. (Y/N) nodded to the driver, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind her. People were already staring. (Y/N) glared at them.

"What? Got something to say?" She sneered. They quickly turned away.

"Pussies.." She mumbled, taking another bite out of her apple as she headed up to the school. She entered the hallway, holding her head high as she moved like a black mamba waiting for a dumb rodent to come into view. Just like that, a blonde appeared in her line of sight.

"Hi, I'm Betty Cooper, you must be new!" She smiled brightly. (Y/N) stopped, looking at her from head to toe. Pink, soft, baby face, typical soft girl. (Y/N) responded by taking a large bite of her apple, a loud crunching sound making Betty blink.

"Where's the bathroom?" (Y/N) asked. Betty pointed towards it. (Y/N) brushed past her, heading inside and tossing the apple into the trashcan. She went up to the sink, taking out her lipstick and reapplying it.

"Welcome to Riverdale by the way. Where'd you come from?" Betty asked.

"Hell." (Y/N) replied, pressing her lips together before facing her.

"Riverdale sounds so boring, even with those murders. Let's face it, people die everyday from something different." (Y/N) crossed her arms.

"Who's the queen bee?"

"Um-"

"That would be me, get out of the way Nancy Drew." A redhead said, leaving a stall.

"Cheryl Blossom aka Cheryl Bombshell. Digging the edgy style by the way." Cheryl grinned.

"The River Vixens could use a girl like you on the team. We need something new and spicy not cold and wet like Veronica. Anyways, ciao!" Cheryl blew her a kiss before leaving the bathroom.

"Ciao!" (Y/N) mocked her in a high pitched voice before rolling her eyes.

"I need someone to go clubbing with." (Y/N) said, placing a hand on her hip.

"I know just the person." Betty smiled. She led her to a lounging area where some teens were sitting on a couch.

"Guys, this is (Y/N), she's new." Betty introduced them to her.

"Archie Andrews." The ginger smiled, offering his hand. (Y/N) blew a bubble and looked at the girl.

"Veronica Lodge." The photos did her no justice.

"Jughead Jones." Edgelord.

"You four are the perfect team." (Y/N) grinned.

"For?" Veronica questioned.

"Clubbing."

"Oh, absolutely not-"

"You just need a little cleaning up and you'll be fine Judgehead." (Y/N) said.

"Christ, Veronica is the only one with a fashion sense." (Y/N) mumbled. Betty looked like she was gonna go to Sunday school, Jughead looked like an emo kid, and Archie looked like an awkward dad. (Y/N) went over to Betty, letting her hair down.

"Mess it up." She instructed. Betty ruffled her hair up as (Y/N) looked for clothes. She found some and dragged Betty into the bathroom. Betty changed into the dark green plaid shirt and black skirt. (Y/N) tucked in the shirt and unbutton some of the top buttons, making it seem off-shoulder. Betty changed from her soft pink flats to black ones.

"Moving on to the next idiot!" (Y/N) left the bathroom with her.

"Oh my god, Betty, you look hot!" Veronica squealed.

"Yeah, Betty.. You look amazing." Archie said. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, snatching Jughead's beanie off his head.

"Ruffle it up." Jughead shook his head so his hair was messy. (Y/N) ran her hands through his hair a bit before putting the beanie on him a bit loosely so his hair was more visible than before. She tossed a leather jacket at him before clipping some chains onto his belt.

"There you go, Edgelord." She looked at Archie. (Y/N) gave him a jean jacket and some ripped jeans along with black shoes. After he changed, she put a chain necklace on him.

"Now, we're ready to go." (Y/N) said, taking them out of her room and leading them to the front door.

"Where are your parents?" Betty asked.

"Overseas." (Y/N) replied.

"They have a business trip already in England then they'll be back for a day or two before heading over to Italy." (Y/N) said, texting away on her phone. She left the apartment, heading to the awaiting limo. They got in, attention still focused on (Y/N).

"What do your parents do?" Veronica asked.

"They own (L/N) Industries." (Y/N) said, shrugging lightly. (L/N) Industries was a big company that worked with oil and electricity.

"Damn.." Jughead mumbled.

"What club are we doing to?" Veronica asked.

"Starlight Moon." (Y/N) replied, looking at them.

"Friend owns the place." She said as the limo came to a stop. People were waiting in a long line to get in. (Y/N) got out, walking right up to the bouncer.

"Miss (L/N)." The bouncer greeted. (Y/N) flashed a smile.

"They're with me." She nodded to the group of teens before entering. A popular hip-hop song was playing, lights were flashing, the smell of alcohol and marijuana was thick in the air.

"Totally not my type of scene." Jughead said. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, leading them to some stairs. She went up them, heading into the VIP area. (Y/N) turned and looked at them.

"Come on, enjoy yourselves!" She said, grabbing some drinks and giving them to the teens. Veronica drinked instantly, Archie hesitating.

"The hangover will be killer but at least you'll have fun!" (Y/N) said, laughing.

"Even if you can't dance, just let the music guide you!" She added. Veronica looked at her friends.

"You guys heard her, come on!" Veronica giggled. Archie sighed, drinking his cup and letting Veronica drag him away to dance. Betty swallowed thickly. (Y/N) took some pills from a girl and walked back over to them, popping a pill into her mouth.

"You want some?" She asked. Betty picked one up.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Molly." (Y/N) replied, giggling. Betty frowned and shook her head. (Y/N) shrugged.

"Your loss." She said, giving one to Jughead and stepping away. Betty looked at the pill.

"Betty, it's not worth it." Jughead said, taking a sip of his drink and cringing. Betty looked at Veronica and Archie as they danced and laughed.

"It's just a pill, Jug. How much damage could it do?" Betty asked.

"You could become addicted-"

"I won't. It's just one time... We can take it together if you want." Betty said. Jughead sighed but nodded. They took the pill.

"Now we play the waiting game until it has an effect." Jughead whispered, going over to a couch and sitting down. Betty looked over at (Y/N). She seemed pretty normal, dancing and laughing. Betty drank a little before joining her. They danced, drank, and laughed for what seemed like an hour. Betty laughed, feeling a rush of happiness and relaxation. Even Jughead had joined them, jumping around and dancing with Betty. It was probably the most fun the teens had. (Y/N) collapsed onto the couch, moving so Betty could sit as well. Betty felt her phone vibrate and picked it up.

"Elizabeth Cooper, where in God's name are you?! It's three in the morning! I can hear music-"

"Mom, mom! I'm fine! I promise... I love you so much, you know that, right?" Betty asked, giggling.

"Are you drunk?!"

"I love you, I'll be home soon." Betty said before hanging up.

"We should head home." (Y/N) chuckled, standing up and getting everyone. They stumbled out of the club and to the limo where the driver opened the door for them. They all got in and collapsed onto the seats.

"George! Take these bitches home!" (Y/N) called.

"What are their addresses?" George asked. They told him their addresses and George drove them there. Archie and Betty were first with Jughead going with Archie. Betty entered her house and looked at her parents. Alice and Hal watched her, arms crossed. Polly gave her a pity filled smile. Archie and Jughead went inside, going up the stairs and falling onto the bed. Fred peeked in but decided against scolding them since they were already fast asleep. They drove to Veronica's place before heading home.

"Told you that you'd make friends."

"Suck my dick, George."

#x reader #x y/n #x you #x fem reader #riverdale #riverdale x you #riverdale x reader #riverdale x y/n #riverdale x fem reader #veronica lodge #archie andrews #jughead jones #betty cooper #tw drugs #tw drug use #x bad girl reader

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veronicalodgestylecompendium · 4 years

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Chapter Nineteen: Death Proof

I’m fully healed. I’m back in my own country. There’s a lot to cover in this episode. Let’s do this thing.

This dress has a lot of different textures in it and I have heart eyes for it. Between the collar, lace and brocade pattern, this dress screams VERONICA LODGE in such an aggressive way I’m not surprised this is longest worn look in the episode. This dress has echoes of the green lace dress our girl wore in the last episode when she first saw Nick and I love the contrast. There, she loved him, now she hates him. Not that we blame her. The much loved tear drop pearl necklace is holding strong here, you can just see it hiding behind the ties of our girls bow.

Quick note: Check out Cheryl rocking Ronnie’s blue velvet coat. Girls supporting girls. I love it forever.

It’s actually criminal that we only get a short look of this outfit. Her boots are over the knee and BURGUNDY guys! How could I not love it? It’s interesting that her sweater here is white, this isn’t really a colour that we see on our girl very often, and honestly not the colour that I would choose when picking up garbage… but again, each to their own. I love the ruffles on her skirt pockets. I love that her skirt has pockets in general. It’s a winner for me.

Now THIS is a contrast. White high neck sweater, skirt and OTK boots in the last scene, v neck body suit, SHORTS, a fur wrap, sheer black tights and stiletto heels here. I’m not going to say I love this outfit, cause I don’t, but I love how bad ass it makes her look. I mean, between the studs on her heels and that killer belt she’s rocking, she definitely looks the part of kinky detective.

Bow earrings, probably Archie’s shirt. The definition of comfort with your boyfriend. I love it.

This one looks a lot more simplistic than it actually is. I mean, check the texture of the shirt AND the cross over back. The shirt screams ‘take me to a club’ where the skirt is much more mild, a very safe navy/burgundy/white plaid. I actually love the combination of the two items that you wouldn’t normally pair together, combined with a classic Ronnie accessory, the bow belt, it’s an outfit that I personally think perfectly represents the changes she going through.

I LIVE FOR THIS SCENE!! The costuming on all the main characters here is incredible, however this is a Veronica blog, so my love for Betty Cooper shall remain internalised. This is not the last time that we will see this ring pull style of polo, however it is the first! I love the stripe detail around the collar on this one, paired with a printed lace-like skirt in matching colours. It’s very matchy matchy, yet it isn’t too matchy matchy… does that make any sense?

Our final outfit, our girl is in her glasses which we all know mean business, paired with this high neck, slight v cut dress and she looks much more like a crime queen pin than the high schooler she actually is… Riverdale, the town of pep and teenage mafia princesses. I do love this dress though, the scalloping really brings it to another level over plain black dress. Very apt for this scene.

Total: Seven!

Ted Baker Count: Thirteen.

Tear Drop Necklace Appearance: Naturally.

Favourite Outfit: Deceptively simple plaid skirt and textured shirt. What can I say? I love the contrast.

#veronica lodge fashion #veronica lodge #riverdale #riverdale style #veronicalodgestylecompendium #riverdale clothing #s02 #season two

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thornyrose463 · 4 years

Text

The Transfers (Riverdale one-shot)

This is a Riverdale (CW TV show) one-shot. The gifs are not mine. I found them here on tumblr. All credit goes to the rightful owners.

I would like to thank @amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines for making an Instagram profile for my original character Hannah Pearson.

Summary: Hannah Pearson is a member of the Southside Serpents and Sweet Pea's girlfriend. After Southside High shuts down, she transfers to Riverdale High with the other Serpents.

Rating: T

Warning: Swearing and mild sexual content

Cast

Cole Sprouse as Jughead Jones

Vanessa Morgan as Toni Topaz

Jordan Connor as Sweet Pea

Willa Holland as Hannah Pearson

Drew Ray Tanner as Fangs Fogarty

Camila Mendes as Veronica Lodge

KJ Apa as Archie Andrews

Madelaine Petsch as Cheryl Blossom

Charles Melton as Reggie Mantle

Lili Reinhart as Betty Cooper

Skeet Ulrich as FP Jones

Danielle Campbell as Emma Walker

Author's note

This one-shot is set in an alternate universe where Jughead didn't break up with Betty after she did the Serpent dance, Jughead and Toni never kissed, the Black Hood got Betty to choose his victims but didn't make her end her relationship with Jughead and her friendship with Veronica, Archie and Veronica didn't break up and Veronica didn't start dating Reggie, Alice, Polly, Cheryl, Kevin, Toni, Fangs, and Principal Weatherbee never joined the Farm, the Farm never kidnapped Betty, Toni, Cheryl, and Fangs were never kicked out of the Serpents, the Pretty Poisons don't exist, Toni and Cheryl didn't break up, Jughead and the rest of the Serpents didn't start playing Gryphons and Gargoyles, FP and Alice never dated or had an affair, the Stonewall Prep storyline never happened, and Principal Honey was never hired.

On the Heathers casting sheet, which you can find on Riverdale showrunner Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa's Twitter page, Sweet Pea wrote the initials NM, and Fangs wrote the initials FF. Based on that, we can assume Sweet Pea's first name starts with the letter N and his last name starts with the letter M and Fangs' first name and last name start with the letter F. I chose the name Nathan Montgomery for Sweet Pea and the name Francis Fogarty for Fangs.

Jughead Jones led Toni Topaz, Sweet Pea, Hannah Pearson, Fangs Fogarty, and the rest of the Southside Serpents through the doors of Riverdale High School. Sweet Pea gripped Hannah's hand tightly as they walked down the hallway. Toni and Fangs walked beside Sweet Pea and Hannah, glaring at anyone who looked at them the wrong way.

The Serpents stopped walking when they saw the table that Veronica Lodge, her boyfriend, Archie Andrews, and Kevin Keller were standing behind.

Veronica smiled. "Friends! On behalf of the students and faculty here at Riverdale High, welcome to your new school! To ease this transition, I've set up a registration desk, where you can get your locker assignments, class schedules, and a list of sports and extracurriculars. We encourage each and every one of you to drink deeply from the cup that is fair Riverdale."

"Stand down, Eva Perón!" Cheryl Blossom yelled, walking down the stairs, followed by Reggie Mantle and a group of girls in blue and gold cheerleading uniforms.

Veronica sighed and looked at Jughead before facing Cheryl.

"There's the school spirit I so fondly remember," Jughead said sarcastically.

"Cheryl." Veronica acknowledged, glaring at the redheaded girl. "No one invited Fascist Barbie to the party."

"Wrong, Veronica. No one invited Southside scum to our school." Cheryl said, crossing her arms over her chest.

The Serpents tensed.

"Listen up, ragamuffins!" Cheryl yelled.

"Ragamuffins? What kind of insult is that?" Hannah asked.

Hannah was tall and slender. Her long brown hair was parted in the middle and styled in loose curls. She was wearing an unzipped black leather jacket with the Southside Serpents symbol on the back, an unbuttoned long-sleeved green and white plaid flannel shirt over a white tank top, dark blue denim jeans, and black combat boots with black laces. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft brown eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a pretty peach colour. She had a double-headed snake tattoo on her left arm, but it couldn't be seen underneath her jacket. She didn't have any other tattoos besides her Serpent tattoo. She didn't have any scars or birthmarks. She didn't have any piercings.

Hannah was 16 years old. She joined the Serpents when she was 15. She did her Serpent dance to Warrant's song Cherry Pie. She lost her virginity to a guy her age one night at a party shortly after she joined the Serpents. They weren't romantically involved. It was just a hookup, nothing more. At some point, she and Sweet Pea realized they were attracted to one another and started dating.

Cheryl looked at Hannah with raised eyebrows and then started speaking again. "I will not allow Riverdale High's above average GPA to suffer because of classrooms that are overcrowded with underachievers, so please do us all a favour and find some other school to debase with your hard-scrabble ways." She looked the Serpents up and down with a fake smile on her cherry red lips and held her hands together in front of her.

"Why don't you come over here and say that to my face?" Toni asked angrily, moving towards Cheryl. Jughead, Sweet Pea, Hannah, and Fangs followed her, ready to fight.

Cheryl got in Toni's face. "Happily, Queen of the Buskers."

"She is just asking to get her ass kicked," Hannah muttered to Sweet Pea. She was about to lunge at Cheryl, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Okay, guys, can we just put our differences aside and start over?" Archie stood in between Toni and Cheryl. Hannah's gaze went from being focused on Cheryl to being focused on him. "A clean slate?" He looked between Cheryl and the Serpents.

"You don't speak for the Bulldogs, Andrews, and need I remind you that these greaser snakes showed up at your place trying to kick your ass," Reggie said, giving Archie a pointed look.

"Happy to finish what we started." Sweet Pea threatened, shoving past Toni and moving towards Reggie. He stopped in his tracks when he felt Fangs and Jughead's arms hold him back.

Veronica stood in between Reggie and Sweet Pea, putting a hand on Sweet Pea's left arm. "I'm so over the toxic masculinity in this hallway right now," she said loudly, her voice full of annoyance.

"All right, that's enough pomp and circumstance! Everyone, get to class now!" Principal Weatherbee yelled.

Reggie backed off.

Veronica took her hand off of Sweet Pea's arm. He began to walk towards the staircase. Jughead shoved him, causing him to pick up the pace. He could make out the rustling of papers as he and the rest of the Serpents walked down the hallway.

"Stupid Northsiders," Sweet Pea grumbled.

"It's okay, babe. Everything will get better." Hannah said, rubbing Sweet Pea's arm and getting him to calm down. "And if it doesn't, we'll just kick their asses," she added. He laughed.

Hannah walked into the math classroom. Math was her last class of the day. Once the clock struck 3, she would be able to get on her motorcycle and go back to her trailer.

None of the other Serpents had math at this time of day besides Jughead, who was sitting next to a girl with fair skin, blue eyes, and long straight blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail wearing a white t-shirt, an unbuttoned pink cardigan, dark blue denim jeans, and beige ankle-length boots.

The girl was named Elizabeth Cooper. She was Jughead's girlfriend. Hannah met her at FP's retirement party. She was as sweet as apple pie and was one of the few Northsiders Hannah could stand to be around.

Hannah sat on the other side of Jughead and smiled at Betty. "Hey, Betty."

Betty smiled back. "Hey, Hannah."

The teacher wrote an equation on the whiteboard and explained it to the class.

Hannah listened intently while writing in her notebook. Despite what people like Cheryl and Reggie may think, she was actually pretty smart and cared about getting an education.

The clock struck 3, and Hannah left the classroom and walked out to the parking lot. She got on her motorcycle and drove to her trailer.

Betty laid in her bed, cell phone in hand, browsing Instagram. The name Hannah Pearson showed up in the list of suggested followers. She tapped on Hannah's profile picture and checked out her profile. Hannah had 99 posts and 85 followers and was following 100 people. At the top of the page, there were pictures of Hannah, a picture of Hannah's black Honda CB550 motorcycle, and a picture of the outside of the Whyte Wyrm.

Betty scrolled down the page and saw a close-up of the Serpent tattoo on Hannah's left arm, pictures of Hannah and Sweet Pea, and pictures of Hannah, Toni, and Fangs. She couldn't help but smile at how cute Hannah and Sweet Pea were together and how close Hannah and her friends were.

Betty hit the follow button. A few minutes later, she got a notification saying that Hannah had followed her.

A few weeks had passed since the Serpents transferred to Riverdale High. The Bulldogs and the Serpents had been in their fair share of fights, and Principal Weatherbee had banned the Serpents from wearing their leather jackets and showing their tattoos. Sweet Pea had to wear a turtleneck in order to cover his tattoo, much to the amusement of the rest of the Serpents.

Hannah was talking to Fangs in the student lounge. She stifled a laugh as Sweet Pea walked in. "You look great, babe."

Fangs turned around and burst into laughter.

Sweet Pea was wearing a white turtleneck underneath an unbuttoned blue and white plaid flannel shirt with long sleeves, dark blue denim jeans, and black combat boots with black laces.

"Shut the fuck up," Sweet Pea grumbled, making his way over to Hannah.

Hannah tried to conceal her smile. "It suits you."

Hannah was wearing a grey tank top underneath an unbuttoned red and grey plaid flannel shirt with long sleeves, dark blue denim jeans, and black ankle-length leather boots with silver studs on the buckles. Her long brown hair was styled in loose curls. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft brown eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a pretty peach colour.

Fangs smiled. "Yeah. It...Um…It brings out the colour of your eyes."

Sweet Pea shoved Fangs.

"It's really not that bad. I've seen Fangs wear much worse." Hannah said.

"Hey!" Fangs exclaimed, offended.

Hannah kissed Sweet Pea. "You would look good in anything, I promise."

"Thanks, but that doesn't make me feel any better." Sweet Pea said.

"Are you guys busy tonight?" Fangs asked.

Sweet Pea shook his head. "No."

"Do you want to go see Love, Simon at the Bijou with me?" Fangs asked.

"I was going to invite Toni, but she's too busy trying to get with Cheryl Bombshell." Fangs rolled his eyes.

"Sounds like fun. We'll be there." Hannah told Fangs.

That night, Sweet Pea, Hannah, and Fangs arrived at the Bijou in Sweet Pea's truck. Sweet Pea held Hannah's hand as they walked in and found their seats.

Fangs nudged Sweet Pea and Hannah. "Guys, look."

Sweet Pea and Hannah turned around.

Toni was sitting next to Cheryl. She made a flirtatious comment, causing Cheryl to blush.

Hannah smiled. "Aww, how cute!"

Cheryl and Toni became a couple a few weeks after their date.

Principal Weatherbee lifted the ban on Serpent jackets and Serpent tattoos, and the Serpents started wearing their jackets to school again.

Betty and Jughead lost their virginity.

Hannah stood beside Sweet Pea, laughing at something stupid he had said. Fangs was on the other side of him. Jughead was in front of them. She looked around the park and saw Cheryl standing next to Toni and laughing. She smiled.

Jughead's father, FP Jones, whistled, getting the attention of the Serpents.

"Listen up, now! All right, listen up!" FP yelled.

"Some 60 years ago, the very first Serpent meeting took place on these same riverbanks. Now, it makes sense that this is where we gather now, where I…Where I say my goodbye. Jughead, would you step up here, son?" FP asked.

The crowd started muttering.

"What the fuck is going on?" Hannah whispered to Sweet Pea.

Hannah was wearing her black leather jacket with the Southside Serpents symbol on the back, an unbuttoned long-sleeved blue and black plaid flannel shirt over a black tank top, dark blue denim jeans, and black ankle-length leather boots with silver studs on the buckles. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft brown eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a pretty peach colour. Her hair was straight.

"I have no idea. To be honest, I thought we came here to get drunk and celebrate how far we've come." Sweet Pea said.

Hannah laughed.

Jughead walked towards FP.

"What are you doing?" Jughead mumbled.

"What I should have done a long time ago," FP muttered.

"I'm retiring from the Serpents." FP announced. The muttering got louder. "For real this time."

FP put his arm around Jughead's shoulder. "Now, my boy has never stopped fighting for this crew. Hell, he almost died for it." He turned to face his son. "That's why I'm giving you the mantle."

The crowd cheered. Sweet Pea hit Fangs, making him wince.

"And now, as your first official duty as Serpent King…" FP nodded to Toni, who made her way towards FP and Jughead and handed FP a red leather jacket with the Southside Serpents symbol on the back.

"I think you know what to do with this." FP handed the jacket to his son. Jughead smiled.

"All right, all right," Jughead muttered. "All I can say is…I love you, Dad. And the Serpents will not die out. Not on my watch."

The crowd cheered.

Cheryl walked towards Jughead, and they smiled at each other as he gave her the red leather jacket.

"Welcome to the Serpents, Cheryl." Hannah said.

Cheryl smiled at Hannah before making her way over to Toni and kissing her.

"One more thing." Jughead pulled out his cell phone. "We have a new Serpent Queen." He called Betty.

Fangs started dating a girl named Emma Walker.

Emma was a Northsider. She was on the cheerleading squad with Betty, Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni. There were no other Serpents on the cheerleading squad besides Toni.

Jughead finished writing Anatomy of a Murder, his book on Jason Blossom's death and the effect it had on the people of Riverdale. It made it to the top of the New York Times Best Seller list.

After their lunch date at Pop's, Sweet Pea and Hannah went back to his trailer.

Hannah walked into Sweet Pea's bedroom. Sweet Pea followed her. He shut the door.

Hannah took off her black combat boots, dark blue denim jeans, black t-shirt, and Serpent jacket, leaving her in just her black lingerie.

Sweet Pea left a trail of kisses on the side of Hannah's neck, rubbing his hands up and down her legs. Hannah groaned in pleasure, taking off Sweet Pea's clothes, leaving him in just his boxers.

Hannah straddled Sweet Pea's body as they laid on top of the bed. She kissed down his body, creeping closer to his boxers. Sweet Pea flipped them over so that he was on top. The two kissed each other all over as they made love.

Sweet Pea and Hannah collapsed on the bed next to each other.

"You up for round 2?" Sweet Pea asked.

Hannah rolled on top of Sweet Pea. "Definitely."

At the beginning of junior year, Hal and Alice got divorced, Emma and Fangs lost their virginity, Hiram and Hermione got divorced, FP became the sheriff of Riverdale, Veronica opened a speakeasy in the basement of Pop's, Cheryl lost her virginity to Toni, Hal and Hiram were sentenced to life in prison, Alice and FP's son, Charles Smith, shut down the Farm, Hermione got people to stop playing Gryphons and Gargoyles, burned every single copy of the player's handbook, and arrested the Gargoyle Gang, Gladys and Jellybean moved back to Toledo, Fangs' mother succumbed to her illness, Toni's grandfather died of old age, and Pop Tate died of old age.

After the fall of the Gargoyle Gang, a new gang arrived in Riverdale. They were called the Scorpions. Each member wore a black leather jacket with a big red scorpion on the back. They dealt drugs and street raced for sport, just like the Ghoulies had.

The Serpents and the Scorpions were enemies.

At the beginning of senior year, Fred died in a hit-and-run accident after stopping alongside the road to help a stranded motorist.

Friday, June 21, 2019

It was the night of the senior prom.

The dance was being held at the Five Seasons.

Veronica, Betty, Cheryl, Hannah, and Emma had gotten ready for the dance at Betty's house.

The limo Veronica had rented pulled into Betty's driveway.

Archie, Jughead, Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs stepped out of the limo and stood in the driveway, waiting for Veronica, Betty, Cheryl, Hannah, and Emma to step out of the house.

Archie was wearing a black suit, a white dress shirt, a black necktie, and black dress shoes with black laces.

Jughead was wearing a black suit, a white dress shirt, a black necktie, and black dress shoes with black laces. His beanie rested on top of his head.

Toni was wearing black high-heeled sandals and a strapless black dress with a floor-length skirt. The sweetheart neckline showed a hint of cleavage. Her long brown hair with pink highlights was styled in loose curls. The curls were pushed out of her face but still left to fall down her back. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft brown eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a light shade of berry pink.

Sweet Pea was wearing a black suit, a white dress shirt, a black necktie, and black dress shoes with black laces. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone. His Serpent tattoo was on full display.

Fangs was wearing a black suit, a white dress shirt, a black necktie, and black dress shoes with black laces.

Archie's jaw dropped when he saw Veronica walking towards him. "Wow. You look stunning."

Veronica was wearing navy blue high-heeled sandals and a navy blue floor-length dress. It was strapless and had a sweetheart neckline. The neckline showed a hint of cleavage. The top was folded pieces of soft fabric, and the bottom billowed when she walked, giving her the appearance that she was flying. A small silver chain with a tiny diamond hung low on her chest. Her shoulder-length wavy black hair was in an elegant updo, leaving her neck bare. Her brown eyes were framed by long dark lashes, her lips were plum and shiny, and her cheeks were rosy.

Veronica smiled and gave Archie a peck on the lips. "Thank you, Archie."

Archie walked towards the limo. Veronica walked beside him. He held the door open and took her by the hand, helping her get in the backseat.

Jughead's jaw dropped when he saw Betty walking towards him. "Wow. You look incredible."

Betty was wearing pale pink high-heeled sandals and a pale pink dress with a floor-length skirt and a sweetheart neckline that turned into off-the-shoulder sleeves. The neckline showed a hint of cleavage. A small silver chain with a tiny diamond hung low on her chest. Her long blonde hair was styled in barrel curls. The curls were pushed out of her face but still left to fall down her back. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, soft pink eyeshadow, and nude lip gloss.

Betty smiled and gave Jughead a peck on the lips. "Thank you, Jughead."

Jughead walked towards the limo. Betty walked beside him. He held the door open and took her by the hand, helping her get in the backseat.

Toni's jaw dropped when she saw Cheryl walking towards her. "Wow. You look beautiful."

Cheryl was wearing red high-heeled sandals and a red dress with spaghetti straps, a v-neck, and a floor-length skirt with a slit in the right side that reached the middle of the thigh and revealed her right leg. The neckline showed a hint of cleavage. A small silver chain with a tiny diamond hung low on her chest. Her long red hair was styled in barrel curls. The curls were pushed out of her face but still left to fall down her back. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft pink eyeshadow. Her lips were cherry red.

Cheryl smiled and gave Toni a peck on the lips. "Thank you, Toni."

Toni and Cheryl walked towards the limo. Toni held the door open and took Cheryl by the hand, helping her get in the backseat.

When Sweet Pea saw Hannah walking towards him, his jaw dropped. "Wow. You look amazing."

Hannah was wearing green high-heeled sandals and a green dress with a v-neck, two spaghetti straps criss-crossing over the open back, and a floor-length skirt. The neckline showed a hint of cleavage. The sides of the dress were cut out, exposing a teasing fraction of skin. Her Serpent tattoo was on full display. Her long brown hair was styled in loose curls. The curls were pushed out of her face but still left to fall down her back. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft brown eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a pretty peach colour.

Hannah smiled and gave Sweet Pea a peck on the lips. "Thank you, Sweet Pea."

Sweet Pea walked towards the limo. Hannah walked beside him. He held the door open and took her by the hand, helping her get in the backseat.

When Fangs saw Emma walking towards him, his jaw dropped. "Wow. You look gorgeous."

Emma was tall and slender with fair skin and blue eyes. She was wearing lavender high-heeled sandals and a strapless lavender dress with a sweetheart neckline, an open back, and a floor-length skirt that flared at the hips with a small train. The neckline showed a hint of cleavage. Her long brown hair was styled in barrel curls. The curls were pushed out of her face but still left to fall down her back. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft pink eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a pretty coral pink colour.

Emma smiled and gave Fangs a peck on the lips. "Thank you, Fangs."

Fangs walked towards the limo. Emma walked beside him. He held the door open and took her by the hand, helping her get in the backseat.

The limo drove down the road.

Riverdale High School

Wednesday, June 26, 2019

2:00 p.m.

It was graduation day.

The ceremony was being held in the auditorium. The graduates were sitting in the first row. They were clad in blue graduation gowns and blue graduation caps with gold tassels. The guests were sitting a little farther back.

Betty was the valedictorian. She walked up to the podium and gave a speech.

"Have you ever read a good book or a good story, and when you're on the final chapter and the final page, you feel a sadness you can't explain?"

"Sometimes, if you're lucky, the story or book will have an epilogue or a sequel. I stand here before you, my fellow graduates, to tell you that although this chapter in our lives has ended, the story is far from over."

"We are all still so young. We have time to fall in and out of love and to make mistakes. We still have the opportunity to fail and succeed and to change our minds like we change our clothes. There are tears of sadness running down some of your faces. Why? This isn't the end. This is the beginning of something amazing."

"For some of you, maybe it's college. Maybe it's your dream job. Maybe it's getting married and starting a family. Or maybe it's finally accepting who you are and not being afraid of who you could turn out to be."

"Just promise me one thing. Don't forget what these past few years have brought to your life. Don't forget about the people that taught you all about friendship, bravery, and courage. Don't forget about the smiles and frowns, the laughter and tears, and the breakups and makeups. Don't run from your mistakes. Learn from them and embrace them. I wish you all the happiness in the world. I can't think of a group of people that deserve it more."

Thunderous applause followed Betty's speech.

Betty returned to her seat.

Principal Weatherbee announced that diplomas were going to be handed out. He started calling names.

"Archibald Andrews."

Archie made his way towards the stage. He shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking his diploma back to his seat.

A few more names were called.

"Cheryl Blossom."

Cheryl made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

A few more names were called.

"Elizabeth Cooper."

Betty made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

A few more names were called.

"Francis Fogarty."

Fangs made his way towards the stage. He shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking his diploma back to his seat.

A few more names were called.

"Forsythe Pendleton Jones III."

Jughead made his way towards the stage. He shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking his diploma back to his seat.

A few more names were called.

"Veronica Lodge."

Veronica made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

A few more names were called.

"Nathan Montgomery."

Sweet Pea made his way towards the stage. He shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking his diploma back to his seat.

A few more names were called.

"Hannah Pearson."

Hannah made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

A few more names were called.

"Antoinette Topaz."

Toni made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

A few more names were called.

"Emma Walker."

Emma was the last to graduate. She made her way towards the stage. She shook hands with Principal Weatherbee and the superintendent of the school board before taking her diploma back to her seat.

Principal Weatherbee addressed the crowd. "Everyone, please rise."

The crowd stood up.

Principal Weatherbee turned to the graduates and said, "Graduates, please move your tassels from right to left."

The graduates did as they were told.

"Congratulations to the Riverdale High School class of 2019!" Principal Weatherbee exclaimed.

The graduates threw their caps in the air.

THE END

#fanfiction

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n0-eyedtaissa · 5 years

Text

The New Normal (Sweet Pea x Fem!Reader)

A/N: This is my first real attempt at a reader-insert fic so I’m crazy-nervous to post this, but I’m pretty proud of it so I hope you enjoy it!!

Description: An ill-timed party brings two sides together and an unfortunate interaction sparks an unlikely friendship.

Warnings: Underage smoking and drinking

Word Count: 3k+

You met him at a party.

It was a misplaced exhibition of grandeur, planned with juvenile good intentions and the thought that most problems could be solved with Pabst Blue Ribbon or a few shots of New Amsterdam. It was ironic, really. The Southside of town goes up in the flames of gentrification and everyone’s first thought was “Who’s throwing the kegger?” .

It was for the hope of normalcy, to stand with false confidence in the backyard at Reggie Mantle’s house and drink piss-water beer out of a plastic cup as too much bass reverberated though the sea of underaged bodies surrounding you.

You’d done it a dozen times.

But now, boys from both sides of the tracks were getting shot, or preyed upon by the music teacher. Miss Grundy. With her kind eyes and her misplaced authority, she fulfilled desires of tasting the unripened fruit. It was three weeks after she ‘mysteriously’ left school when she was found dead, strangled with her own cello bow. Throat slit. Three blocks away from your front door a self-righteous killer planned out how he sought sinners to claim repentance.

You sat in a discarded lawn chair, away from the masses, thoughts awash with the green eyes of the Black Hood, the crucified figure of Midge Klump onstage for the whole town to see. It almost made you want to laugh, Midge finally getting the attention she always wanted.

The goosebumps start to raise on your bare arms as you recline against the cold back of the chair and it makes you start to sip faster on your vodka cran, relishing in the warmth that pooled in your stomach, and wondering if home would ever be “normal” again.

Or was it ever normal to begin with ?

Over the beer pong table you watched a group of jocks tense up, Bulldogs with their feathers ruffled like yardbirds that were scared of a stealthy outdoor cat. You stood up in search of a spectacle, as well as a refill, and made your way through the sliding glass door and into the expensive dining room. Reggie’s house was huge: all high ceilings and grand entryways, furniture that looked pristine and untouched. Lively, sweaty bodies were packed into the house and causing the walls to sweat with smoke-riddled condensation.

You waded through the masses, getting elbows jabbed into your ribs and beer spilled onto your suede boots, but finally you made your way to the kitchen.

Perched atop the polished granite counter was Veronica Lodge, with Archie Andrews tucked in between her bare thighs where her plaid skirt had ridden up. You watched them as they whispered sweet nothings into each others ears, with loyalty and love in their bleary eyes.

She leaned down to kiss him, her inkjet-black hair spilling over his forehead, obscuring his own mop of red waves; the balance between dark and light.

Past the kitchen was the entryway. A gaggle of broad-shouldered boys stood face to face, their expressions hard and their voices laced with malice:

“You Snakes got a lot of nerve coming onto Bulldog territory” Moose Mason said through gritted teeth.

“We’ve got as much right to be here as you do, Moose” One of the Serpents, Jughead Jones responded arrogantly, shoulders relaxed and head held high. The expression on his face said something like make a move, I dare you.

The Serpents vs Bulldog feud was age-old, and mostly everyone was tired of the incessant turf war between the two groups. Northsiders like the Bulldogs had it easy because their families had money and they could live comfortably, if not lavishly. They were a bunch of student athletes with roid-rage who decided that it would be entertaining to pick a fight with the kids who grew up below the poverty line.

Residents of the Southside of Riverdale were at a disadvantage: their side of town was run-down and covered in graffiti tags, with the chain-link fences falling down and the weeds overgrown. It was the little things like that which differentiated the two sides of the same coin. The North side was well maintained, with workers paid to upkeep the lawns and hedges throughout town, or to scrape the gum from the sidewalks. The town’s budget for education was split unevenly, which left the students of Southside high without computers, instead relying on aged textbooks and aged information. On the news you often heard about the kids that took Jingle Jangle in the hallways, or got in knife-fights in the parking lot, or how when Mayor McCoy had the police raid the place, they found a meth lab in the basement. It was a bad school, to say the least.

Not by choice. Everything about this town was a product of circumstance.

There was no question that the more affluent people in town found the Southsiders to be burdensome: The Northsiders were more than open about their disdain for them. They were worried that their school systems were getting muddied up, that test scores would start going down due to the delinquency of the unconcerned students who transferred to Riverdale High after Southside High was forcefully shut down. They locked their car doors every time a motorcycle pulled up next to them, women held their purses a little closer to themselves any time somebody donning a Serpent jacket was in their vicinity.

And though tensions ran high, nothing could bring two sides together like a party could. Right?

Funny.

There was a bitter irony in the situation. The Serpents lose what little they had, Sunnyside Trailer Park going up in flames and the Whyte Wyrm being bought out by the Lodge family, and yet the Bulldogs still thought that a turf war was appropriate.

In a fight, your money would be on the Serpents any day, though. They were scrappy — well-versed in the art of street fighting, with or without brass knuckles and a switchblade. They were a real gang: with an intense initiation process and laws to be abided by. It was about loyalty and respect. The Serpents did whatever they needed to do in order to ensure that all of the Southside residents were taken care of and for this you couldn’t help but admire them.

Plus, they had cooler jackets.

You mind your business though, not wanting to be in the middle of the fight that would inevitably break out. You’re in the middle of refilling your beverage in the kitchen (probably making it a little more heavy handed than you anticipated) when Archie breaks away from Veronica, running to be the mediator yet again.

Veronica smiles curtly at you, the only other person in the kitchen, and for a second it looked like she felt guilty. Maybe.

You send an uneasy smirk in her direction and start slinking your way into the backyard once more, crossing your fingers that no one had stolen your seat. Quickly turning the corner, you plow into the chest of an unsuspecting party-goer.

“God DAMN it!” they grumble angrily, looking down at their shirt, which was now soaked with your vodka cranberry.

“Watch where you’re going next time…” you mutter, shaking sticky drops of cranberry juice from your hand, finally looking up at whoever you had just accidentally accosted.

That’s when you saw him.

Sweet Pea. It was misnomer if you’ve ever heard one: equal parts loyalty and anger, he was chaos. Something like black leather and bruised knuckles, the sound of a motorcycle engine turning over. Or the feeling of being on the wrong end of a strong right hook. He was everything you weren’t, and everything you were told to be afraid of.

He was a cool, tall drink of water; six-foot-something and he towered over you just enough to make it so you had to crane your neck in order to look him in his cold brown eyes. With his face etched with frown and worry lines, you could tell that his hard expression was a trained one. It was almost like he practiced it in the mirror, like if he looked menacing enough no one would be able to mess with him. If he built up his walls high enough, no one could ever break them down.

Plus, he was a Serpent: a gang member with a motorcycle and a penchant for fighting. Despite all of this you couldn’t see a reason not to like him. Just because he was from the Southside didn’t mean you should treat him different. You hoped that no one would treat you differently based on where you lived and how you were brought up, but you knew that your situation was vastly different from Sweet Pea’s.

“Watch where I’m going?” He questions “Sweetheart I was standing completely still, you ran into me” he pointed out, a flirtatious smirk playing on the corner of his pretty lips.

You looked him up and down, noticing the snake tattoo that adorned his neck, and the way that you could see the outline of his muscles through the pink-tinged wet mark on his white t-shirt. Knowing that it was your fault, you relented, not wanting to face the wrath he was so infamous for.

“You’re right, I’m sorry” you sigh, looking up at him innocently through your curled lashes. “I think I have a way to make it up to you, though” You add, feeling an onslaught of alcohol-related confidence.

His eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your bold statement.

“And what exactly did you have in mind?” Sweet Pea asked, studying you carefully.

You reach into the small black purse that was resting at your hip and retrieve a sizable joint, rolled tightly with white paper. You hold you hold it out to him with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Now what’s a pretty little girl like you doing with stuff like this, hmm?” The aura of cockiness was thick around him, it was as if any little interaction with him was a challenge. He started undermining you the first moment he laid eyes on you.

You couldn’t have that, now could you?

“Pretty girls like me could do a lot worse,” You promised, crossing your arms over your chest. You weren’t doing it protectively, though. Unlike most people, you didn’t fear Sweet Pea.

And you could tell that it pissed him off.

“You coming, Southside?” You prompt, throwing the question over your shoulder as you push off from your spot against the wall in order to make your way to the backyard.

“Yeah, uh” Sweet Pea coughed awkwardly, “Right behind you”. He took a long stride in order to open the sliding glass door for you.

How gentlemanly of him

The two of you walked through the masses of students playing King’s Cup and quarters, past a gaggle of girls you would consider to be your friends on Monday through Fridays, from 8am to 3pm. You rarely hung out with them after school, even rarer on weekends. But they gave you a place to sit during lunch and a friendly face to talk to during passing periods, and that was enough for you.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Your ‘friend’ Carrie called out to you, attempting to wave you over to join the group. She was a polite blonde, a nice girl, with a big house and a big yard where her big dog would run around as her rich parents took conference call after conference call over happy-hour margaritas under the veranda.

You waved politely, face unwavering as you pulled a lighter out of your jacket pocket. Carrie pushed herself out of the tight-knit group and sauntered up to you, looking oddly over at Sweet Pea. It was apparent that she was refraining from making a snide comment about the Serpent standing next to you, but was too polite to vocalize it.

“What’re you doing?” Carrie asked, very pointedly you might add, raising her sculpted brow at you.

You shrug, scuffing your boot over a discarded cigarette butt. “About to smoke a joint with my new friend here,” You can tell that both Carrie and Sweet Pea were taken aback by your loose usage of the term ‘friend’.

“Come hang out with us,” She tried to coax you grabbing your hand as weak attempt to pull you away from the boy she so obviously found unsettling.

“I’m okay, I’ll see you around” You ripped your hand away, stepping closer to Sweet Pea and pulling the joint out again from your purse.

Carrie wrinkled her nose, sighing before walking back to the group. You can feel the multiple pairs of eyes on you as she whispered about how you were hanging out with a Serpent, out of all people.

“You should go with your friends.” Sweet Pea states. It was dismissive and cold, as if situations like this were something he was used to.

You put the joint between your lips and spark it, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke before answering; “They’re not my friends…” You divulge, walking through the gravel side-yard to sit down on a lonely garden bench. “Plus, I told you I’d make it up to you for spilling on you”

Sweet Pea chuckles lowly, a gravelly sound that came deep from his chest, filled with resentment. “What, Northsiders don’t all stick together?” The way he was looking at you made your cheeks flush, though you blamed it on the alcohol that was coursing through your veins.

You shake your head at him, handing the joint over. He hesitates for a moment, as if it was unsure of why you were being so welcoming to him. There were a certain number of predetermined assumptions attributed to him: the Serpent, the Southsider, the poor kid, the gang member.

But there were assumptions you knew he was making about you to: Northside, rich girl, artificial.

“There’s more to people than where they live, you realize that, right?” You look up at him from your seat on the bench. He took a deep inhale, clenching his jaw as he blew smoke upwards.

“Seems like you’re the only one around here who seems to believe that, (Y/N)”

That was the first time he said your name.

You weren't sure if he knew your name beforehand, or if he learned it that evening. The minute the word leaves his lips your breath catches in your throat and your blood runs hotter than usual. You wished he would say it again and again.

“Is that so wrong of me? To think that?” You ask meekly, in earnest, unsure if your optimism was a product of the privilege you had.

Sweet Pea’s eyebrows furrow together as he pondered the question. He sat down on the bench next to you, the cold leather of his jacket hitting your bare shoulders and making you intake a sharp breath through your front teeth.

“Not wrong, no…hopeful. A little hope could do us all some good, I guess.” He laughed, passing the joint back to you.

It got quiet after that. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, at least not to you. This had been your only real interaction with Sweet Pea; spilling your drink on him, exchanging bitter words about sides, talking about hope. He didn’t seem as bad as his reputation made him out to be. He was jaded as all hell, it was true, but the more you spoke to him the more it made sense. You decided to break the silence:

“So what’s your story?” You ask suddenly, as if you were stunned by the sheer volume of your voice. The weed made you lightheaded and giggly, made your motions feel languid and you couldn’t help but kick your toes at the pieces of loose gravel.

Sweet Pea looks over at you, rubbing a large hang over his bloodshot eyes and smiling so that his eyes crinkled up at the corners. “My story?” He laughs, looking at you as if it was crazy to be asking about his home life, or his interests.

“Well if there’s more to people then where they live, we gotta start asking more questions, ya know?” You look over to him and he giggles again. “I just wanna know” You shrug off the comment, stomping out the joint and tossing it aside in a terra cotta pot that housed a long-dead plant.

“There’s not much to me,” Sweet Pea says quietly, his voice carried away on a bitter breeze that raised goosebumps on your bare arms. You rubbed your cold hands over your cold arms, hoping that he would offer up his jacket but knowing that the likelihood of that was small.

You weren't in just yet, and you didn't expect to be. Sweet Pea had little reason to tell you anything about him; you guys weren’t actually friends — you spilled a drink on him and offered some weed as an apology. Idle conversation didn't warrant personal questions, but there was something about him that made you want to keep trying.

“I think there’s a lot more to you than you’re giving yourself credit for,” You look at Sweet Pea from the corner or your eye, bumping him playfully with your shoulder and making him crack a smile. “You don’t have to tell me, though. It’s fine”

It was fine, too. The look on his face made it seem like he was surprised that you didn’t keep pushing your questions on him. Maybe he wanted you to keep pushing.

Maybe he was thankful that you didn’t.

The comfortable-maybe-uncomfortable silence sets in again and the two of you are watching the beer pong game from afar. Reggie Mantle was on a team with Archie Andrews and the two were in a heated debate with Chuck Clayton and Moose Mason about getting their cups re-racked. It looked like it was getting a little bit heated, and you couldn't help but laugh after Sweet Pea makes an offhand comment about how the Andrew’s kid’s face was almost as red as his hair.

You both watched a group of Vixens holding each other’s hair back as they vomited up orange-tinged jungle juice. The sight of it makes you childishly cover your eyes with your hands, prompting Sweet Pea to laugh maniacally. He nudges your knee with his and you peek out at him from between your fingers.

“Some party, huh?” He asked with an awkward cough-laugh.

You look around again, noting all of your classmates having a good time, despite the obvious tone of unrest in town. “It’s bullshit” you reveal, and judging by the expression on Sweet Pea’s face, you know that he’s taken aback — this wasn't the answer he anticipated from you.

He didn’t say anything in return, but you just knew that he agreed.

“People fucking died, your friend was shot. People lost their homes, so why are we all trying to get drunk and act like everything is normal? Just because we start ignoring all of this shit, doesn’t mean it’s not there, you know?”

“I know, trust me…” His voice was hard and suddenly you think that you’ve done something wrong.

Just as you’re about to open your mouth to start back-tracking, a girl’s voice rings out from across Reggie’s backyard:

“Hey Sweet Pea! Get your ass over here, we’re up for BP! Gotta knock these Bulldogs down a peg”

Toni Topaz. She was five-foot almost nothing, but she had attitude to boot. One of the Serpent girls. You assumed that Sweet Pea would get up and go to her in an instant, leaving you alone and cold over in Reggie’s discarded side yard.

But he didn’t.

He turned to you nervously, hands twitching idly at his sides as he stood up from the bench. “You comin’ Northside?” He offers his large hand out to you and you take it, with something like excitement pooling deep in your stomach.

You couldn’t help but get nervous as you were led closer to the group of Serpents, pulled through the crowd by Sweet Pea who was a few paces ahead of you. They were all gathered by the big table, clad in their jackets and their tattoos worn proudly as their eyes shifted from face to face just in case.

These snakes really did travel in packs.

“Who’s this?” Toni asks explicitly, gesturing to you with a flick of her chin as she tucked a strand of dyed-pink hair behind her ear.

“Oh, uh…” Sweet Pea cleared his throat awkwardly as he looked at the faces of his expectant chosen family. “This is (Y/N). My…friend”

Toni nodded slowly, as if she was trying to come to terms with the concept. But sh smiled at you, extended her hand to shake politely.

After the death (not death) of one of their finest members, the Fogarty kid, it was obvious that everyone was on edge. It was obvious that just like you — just like everyone else— the Serpents were trying to feel normal again. Was it possible to bounce back after losing almost everything they had?

That was the million-dollar question.

Things were different in town now. Tensions were at an all-time high, prejudices more obvious now than they were before.

But you were here. At Reggie Mantle’s house, drinking piss-water beer out of your plastic cup as too much bass reverberated from the shitty speakers. And you were here with Sweet Pea. And the Serpents. Maybe things would be different on Monday but for that moment, you were friends.

And that was the best thing you could ask for.

#sweet pea riverdale #sweet pea x reader #reader insert fic #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #southside serpents #reggie mantle #archie andrews #toni topaz #fangs fogarty #I'm tagging so much shit bc i want this to get notes #riverdale fandom #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale reader insert

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