Do you wanna be a Serpent? Part 4

He was tired, his bones ached and a distinct throbbing pounded against his temples. After an early morning Serpents meeting at the White Wyrm, three exams and two hours of conditioning practice, Jughead Jones was truly and completely exhausted.

It was nearly seven o clock at night and the dark haired Serpent was just exiting the gym locker room, his wavy hair damp and messy and his leather jacket shoved deep in his duffel. The showers at Riverdale High were so much nicer than the broken down rusted one in his own trailer, most days he would spend hours just standing under the steady warm spray and letting his mind wander anywhere but the present. Tonight was no exception, he needed it, a break. A break from the Serpents, from his responsibilities, as much as he loved his rank in the gang sometimes it was too much, sometimes he just wanted too sit down with his friends, drink a milkshake, kiss a pretty girl.

A pretty girl with hauntingly deep green eyes, a girl with golden hair and the softest skin, he wanted to kiss strawberry flavored lips and put his hands on swirling curves.

He wanted to kiss Betty Cooper and no one else.

It was impossible, the thought of her ever wanting to truly be with him, sure she fooled around, teased him, played his game, But she was made for better. She was Betty Cooper, she deserved better, she would have better. It was just the facts, pretty girls with golden hearts don’t fall for broken boys with broken parts.

A soft and soothing voice rang through the halls

“They hung a sign up in our town

If you live it up you won’t live it down.”

Jughead strained to follow the voice, it was familiar but so heart breakingly Beautiful he could only focus on the way the words etched into his brain.

“So She left Monte Rio son

Just like a bullet leaves a gun.”

It was getting closer, the voice carrying through the halls and calling him in, the sound of a siren, something sent down to take him away.

“With charcoal eyes and Monroe hips

She went and took the California trip.”

It was coming from the office, the first place he had spoken to Betty, the tiny room covered in papers.

Sure enough, she was there, thegirl who never left his thoughts, her nose buried in a book as the words she sang tumbled from her lips.

“Well the moon was gold and her hair like wind,

she said don’t look but now, just come on in.”

Jughead leaned against the doorway, his smile genuine, so soft and out of place if any of his brothers saw him they wouldn’t recognize him. She was beautiful, the girl was an angel and he was lucky enough to be in her presence, even for just a bit. She looked different, gone was the tight ponytail and pastel sweaters, replaced by honey blonde curls cascading over the arm of the hideous plaid couch, she was wearing her cheerleading shorts and an oversized riverdale High sweatshirt, a pair of dirty white converse on her feet. She looked so god damn beautiful it hurt to look.

“You gotta hold on, hold on, you gotta hold on

Take my hand, I’m standing right here you gotta hold on.”

She hummed softly, her eyes scanning the pages of her book.

“You can sing too?” He smirked, a lazy smile spreading across his face as the book slipped from Betty’s hands, a gasp falling from her lips as she straightened herself out, the instant look of relief in her eyes when she saw that it was only him did things to jugheads stomach.

“Jughead Jones. We have to stop meeting like this. Ya know, if you wanna hang out you only have to ask.” She smirked back teasingly.

“I like the mystery of it all.” He offered, sliding his duffel bag across the floor and taking a seat on the couch beside her, picking up her book off the floor and reading the title “any reason you’re here at Riverdale at 7 o’clock at night reading…. Jack Kerouac?” He raised a curious brow, handing back her book. Their fingers touched for a moment as he made the exchange and they both stared at each other, you could almost feel the electricity through the room.

“Same reason as you I would assume.” The beautiful blonde responded, sliding her fingers out from under his.

“You don’t have a working shower either?” The serpent joked.

Betty rolled her eyes, smacking his arm

“No you dork, I needed….I just needed time.. time to myself, I needed time to not be the perfect girl next door, to not smile for the cameras and give speeches and fix everyone’s problems. Lord knows I have enough of my own problems to figure out.” She smiled sadly, her shoulders slumped as she leaned back against the couch.

“I get that.” Jughead agreed “I know what it’s like to have everyone depend on you, to need you. Sometimes I just want to run away, just get on my bike and leave. Start over.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling her all of this, spilling his guts, but he was and he didn’t regret it, he could talk to her, trust her.

“We could go together.” Betty sighed, a dreamy smile on her lips “like Romeo and Juliet except we live happily ever after.”

Jughead smiled back, resting against the couch alongside Betty “the fair Princess Elizabeth and the peasant boy Jughead Jones Run away together on horseback, ride off into the sunset.” He chuckled softly.

“It would be nice.” Betty said turning to look at him “but we can’t leave, not when so many people rely on us, Need us. We have responsibilities.” She stuck her tongue out playfully and Jughead laughed a bit louder.

“Responsibilities. My mortal enemy.”

“I thought that the Ghoulies were your mortal enemy.” Betty giggled

“Ahh the true enemy in our story.” Jughead said dryly, his eyes falling on Betty as she leaned forward

“Our story.” She repeated “I like that. “Our story” the beautiful blonde cheerleader was beaming “so what’s the next chapter of our story Juggie.” The nickname rolled off her tongue so casually that Jughead felt a warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt since he was a kid.

“Well Betts, that’s up to us. I heard you’re severely understaffed at your paper and I was wondering if you could use another author might be a good place to work on… our story.” He grinned, nerves buzzing. What if she said no? What if she liked being alone, he hated the sting of rejection.

“I’d love that Juggie.” She whispered, her hand sliding into his open palm. She was letting him in. She wanted him here, with her in her space. After a moment of silence jughesd grabbed the book from the table

“Tell me about this book.” He nodded, the moment had passed but he didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to say goodbye.

“Oh jughead, you should never ask me about a book, once I get going I never stop. Buttt… since you asked, okay so essentially the protagonist…”

Jughead leaned back against the couch his eyes locked on Betty as she animatedly told an in depth summary of her favorite novel.

He was tired yeah, exhausted even, but right now? Sitting in the tiny office on the horribly tacky plaid couch with the most warm hearted girl he had ever known?

He wouldn’t trade it for all the naps in the world.

Everyday of my life.

Everyday of mine too, he said.

I have been torturing myself.  I have been enveloping myself in a beautiful story that reminds me just how complete and terrible the pain inside of myself is.  I have read and reread each of the words on each of the pages.  I have witnessed Elio’s pain, because it is my own.  Maybe that is why I have this fixation, this unbelievable desire to think only of this book, this story.  This love.  This loss.  Because what a loss it is.  There is nothing greater on this planet than love.  And there is nothing that hurts more to lose.  Especially when it seems like very little was lost to the person we say goodbye to.  

I feel such pain for Elio, because he has this ability to remember that even years later, if he had gone down a different winding road, he could have spent his life with the one he called by his own name.  Because sometimes I fear that I have become the person that Mr. Perlman talks about, the ‘bankrupt’ ones who filter the pain into a deeper part of themselves until it becomes them entirely.  And I don’t want that.  I don’t want to be tired of love, one of the things that I have sworn to live for.  One of the things I have sworn to find.  I don’t want to take the path where I don’t even get one experience like Oliver and Elio’s.  If I end up with a great love and that great love ends, I hope to be able to consider it a piece of beauty that I was even able to love at all.  I wish to be like Elio who remembers it all his life.  Who remembers it every day.  And like Oliver, who remembers everything.  Because to remember means to keep alive.  

And even though it is a book, I will remember it.  Because to me, it is alive.

heith au

au where theres a local choir in the neighborhood, and hunk goes there, he likes singing, mostly he likes being in community bc hes so wholesome. so one day keith comes around and hunk FALLS HARD and keith gets closer lil by lil and they end up being really good friends !!! and they sing together and grab hands before performances and one day hunk is v anxious and cant hide it any longer and keith is like “hey, wait a minute, just stop” bc hunk is still rambling about how different they are and they wont be together bc keith is like, rly cool, but hunk still likes him so much and keith KISSES HIM IN THE CHEEK and says “i really like you hunk” and we all cry because its a beautiful local gay story

  • markoblow 
    i am so blessed to have had the relationship with dylan that i did.
    he is such a big part of my life, and forever owns a place in my heart.
    i alway knew he was special and beyond gifted. i saw the way he affiliated the people around him, and how much he loved his family and friends.
    after his passing i received so many messages, stories, photos, art, and pictures of tribute tattoos. it was truly mind blowing, and made me feel so good, and beyond proud of dylan and all he accomplished and had become.
    i have also received the same from the hospital staff at the city of hope hospital!! nurses sending me photos of tattoos! notes with beautiful stories and messages of how dylan affected their lives. i woke up today with another message from a hospital staff member that took care of dylan. over a year later and he is still affecting people in a positive and uplifting way.
    what an amazing human!!! dylan will be forever in the hearts and minds of the people he affected.
    he is a true hero
    he is a true legend
    forever love
    forever dylan

anonymous asked:

I mean, everything you and others have so eloquently said first but. Imagine reading a beautiful, gentle story about two young people who love each other and support each other through difficult and confusing times and discover who they are as people, flourishing together like flowers in bloom. And all you can think is “who’s the top?”. It’s so icky and gross and so wrong and damaging ...but it’s also so bloody boring!!!

Omg literally this 😅


One thing Tom always said was that Liz was so beautiful to him:

From 1.01

We both woke up seven minutes ago. I’m pretty sure my pants are on backwards and I can barely see straight. But you are somehow dressed, composed, and as beautiful as the day I met you.

to what he tells her in 1.17 before leaving:

Well, whoever she was, she could not have been half as beautiful as you are right now

To when they meet in Cuba, thinking thy could be free in 3.23

Liz: Oh, she’s beautiful.
Tom: Just like her mother.

To their last moments together in 5.08

Hey. You are so beautiful. You’re the most beautiful. Liz? My Liz.

enbyrevan  asked:

That was my ace awakening too. Seeing the definition on Tumblr. My non binary one only came in the last year or so. After seeing TFA and going “oh my name is Ben.” Then it was “am I a guy? No I don’t think so. I’m not a girl either. I’m neither, is that a thing?” Finding out that it was was such a relief. (Legit Han yelled “BEN” and I’m just like “shit that’s me, Han, adopt me, I won’t kill you.”)

thank you force awakens for this BEAUTIFUL STORY IM CRYING

anonymous asked:

I'm glad the majority of the anon asks have been kind! You're my favourite artist, and due to my anxiety I have a hard time sending asks knowing my name is on them (though I think I've done it before!), so it's a blessing when you have anon on. It's like an opportunity to send my love and appreciation. ^_^ As a lesbian who is trans, Ana means the world to me, as does Never Satisfied. Thank you for creating such a beautiful story.

thank yOU for reading and enjoying it and being so sweet!!!!!

Syre, a beautiful confusion.
The story of a boy who chased the sunset until it chased him.
Never quite sure about his placement
Or where he’s been in this pink world
Or why nothing ever made sense.
He knew that he had loved and had been loved
But had no chronological order to place it.
All he knew was that he woke up everyday
Bleeding with amnesia and the case of new memories.
That he had tendencies to mistake for fiction.
So everyday he journeyed to the mountain to recover his past.
In order to understand his future.
She loved him but she eventually killed him.
Now listen, Syre was a mischief with a vision
But his most poetic trait was his wisdom.
His mind was as bright and as pink as the city that he lived in
And the only kids that could live in this bliss
Were the outcasts, the misfits.
Those were his companions.
Even though they could never understand his struggles,
Through these harsh lands,
He gave them the upper hand of his emotional tantrums. 

— passion, pain and desire.

anonymous asked:

I believe there are people who are in love with how your mind conjures up beautiful images and riveting stories. They are also in love with how you hands articulate your muses.

This is such a sweet, lovely, and gorgeous message. I want to print this out and frame it so I can read it over and over when I feel discouraged. Thank you so much for sending this, anon ❤

  • Phichit: I don't like you
  • Chris: the feeling is mutual
  • Victor and Yuuri: *do something cute*
  • Phichit and Chris: *taking pictures* oh my gosh they are adorable I have to post this
  • Phichit: Wait. You love them too?
  • Chris: Of course.
  • Phichit: Where are you posting those pics?
  • Chris: to Twitter, Instagram and my
  • Chris and Phichit: Victuuri Tumblr blog
  • Chris: Did we just become best friends?
  • Phichit: I think we did

The story about his mom squeezing his hand 3 times to say “I love you”  when he was a kid, and then him squeezing her hand in the hospital - he  hadn’t told any of us that story… [Taylor] was not scheduled to do our show today. But we wanted something special for this first show back, so we asked her on a complete whim, since she had been in town doing  SNL. She said yes with zero hesitation. She sang “New Year’s Day.” No one had heard it. Suddenly she sings the line, “Squeeze my hand 3 times in the back of the taxi.” I nearly gasped. Tears. I think everyone in the audience started sobbing.


Heretic - Reylo Black Bird AU by @reylorobyn2011

She closed her eyes tightly and silently hoped for the strength to make it through this fall. She heard the flutter of wings and felt arms wrap around her legs and back, holding her against a rock hard body. When she opened her eyes, she was met with Kylo’s deep brown ones. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his chest.

He carried her in his arms like a bride as he soared above the cliffs and across the town. Once he landed outside of her house, he pressed his forehead to hers and let out an anguished cry.

He dropped to his knees and pulled her tighter into his embrace, never letting her go for even a moment.

Rey felt his hands moving across her body, checking for injuries, or just feeling– needing to know she was alive.

I’ve commissioned the lovely @nemling to draw this gorgeous piece for my wifey, @reylorobyn2011 and her amazing story.

If you haven’t read this story yet, you really should remedy that 😊. It’s loosely based on a Manga called Black Bird. I am absolutely in love with this art and the story. I hope you guys love it as much as I do.❤

Disclaimer: please don’t repost or remove the text, it was commissioned for a fic. So please be respectful to the author and the artist.💖