the clanging jangle
though it shouldn’t
the clock insists
early very early morning
and this is not my house/home
I am sleeping
on not my bed/not my couch
wondering little except why
lying on not my couch
tangled in a child’s sleeping bag/blanket
running my hand
across the imprint on my cheek
left by the rough plaid fabric
of a throw pillow
I have to stop it
This is not my house/home
That is not my phone
but it is at the moment
appropriately red ringing jingling
on an end table
between empty beer bottles
and a full ashtray
how it’s here doesn’t matter
the Hellephone is ringing for me
and the television is still on
‘Phantasm’ and the flying silver sphere
while dread and an edge of fear
war with confusion and annoyance
I know before I really know
why the ringing is here now
what I don’t know is how
or who gave me up
The only concrete certainty
is that the Hellephone is ringing
and it won’t just stop
I pick it up
and of course it’s her
no surprise no mystery solved
it’s her because it can’t be anybody else
She doesn’t say hello
and neither do I
She tells me it’s not over
even though she ended it
before I could
it’s not over
because she wants everything
wants just in case
she wants the dog waiting
for when the wolf is done with it’s work
I barely speak
because she doesn’t want words
she wants acquiescence
acceptance of her demands
I have been foolish but I’m not a fool
she wanted It back and she got It
the same as before
same as it ever was
same as it ever was
the changes were only words
already the dream crumbles
not that she’ll ever admit
making a mistake
she never errs
the world conspires against her
she won’t ask
not the dog
you don’t ask a dog
you command it
And I have nothing
Not my house/home
Not my bed
Not my anything at all
just a transient in mid miscalculation
engaged in free fall
wishing I had had the sense
to pack a parachute
on a Thursday
in the worst month of my life
and I have absolutely nothing
except all that sits on a couch
hearing the bitter accusations
against all and every
anger snarling snapping
just what you expect
when you answer the Hellephone
and it isn’t an offer she speaks
she thinks she’s stating facts
which oddly enough,
to a man with nothing,
sound like less than what he has
I tell her
No to everything
All of it
I’m not going back
returning falling giving in
she said done before I could
but either way
done is what it is
or tries to begin
sinking her fangs in
I’m no longer her meal
I tell her to never call again
press down the button
to end the connection
and set the receiver on the table
I watch it until the harsh chirp
of the busy signal
begins it’s annoying song
then I place a pillow over it
I lie back down
on not my bed/couch
and go back to sleep
My table is officially finished. I’ll probably sell it if anyone near me would actually buy it, idk how much of a market there is for this stuff. Either way, I had a ton of fun making it and I’m very happy with how it turned out.
I like the idea of there being a reporter at one of the games during the whole Minyard/Josten rivalry thing who speaks Russian and she’s sitting there like ‘holy shit’ as Andrew and Neil yell at each other across the court in Russian about dinner plans and how their cat, King, needs to be picked up from the vet tomorrow. During most of the press conference, she sits in silence, watching these two supposed rivals before finally speaking up.
“Mr. Minyard, would you like to comment on the situation with your cats?”
Everyone else is really fucking confused and Andrew’s eyes narrow slightly before Neil bursts out laughing at the other end of the table. Andrew turns his glare on the opposing teams striker. Neil, still grinning widely, turns to the reporter and takes the question instead.
“King is at the vet because she decided to invite the neighbour’s cat to have a party while we were away and now she’s pregnant. It’s just a check up, so I’m picking her up tomorrow before Sir gets too lonely.” (you cannot convince me that King is not a female because she totally is)
And that is how the world found out the truth about the Minyard/Josten cats- I mean rivalry.
You heard your colleague’s voice in the background. But you didn’t react to it. You were focused on something else. Rather someone else. Your boss, that was sitting on the other end of the table, twisting and twirling a pen between his long, slender fingers. He was completely staring at you, head cocked to one side in a rather smug attitude. He was young, not much older than you. Only by a year or two. It always amazed you how successful he was for his age, but with that charm - although he most of the time radiated arrogance… and that smile, his success did not surprise you.
You’d lie if you said you weren’t attracted to him. Hell, that man could have his way with you without you even questioning it, you wouldn’t mind at all. In fact, you wanted it. You wanted him to fuck you, and by judging the look he was giving you, you understood he knew that, too. What made your chest rise and your heartbeat increase, was the fact that he tugged on the collar of his shirt. Then, he gazed up at you again, and the look he was shooting you this time made you weak. He wanted it, too.
Hi, can please write a Bughead headcanon about them being obliviously cuddly/touchy-feely? Thanks
Here you go, hope you like it!
Headcannon: Jughead can’t keep his hands off Betty whenever he’s sitting next to her, even when they’re with their friends, and Betty can’t stop smiling or blushing every time he does.
Jughead slid onto the bench of the picnic table, his knee knocking into Betty’s as he settled into the seat next to her. As Betty glanced up to meet his gaze, she bit her bottom lip to hide the same smile that always threatened to creep onto her lips whenever Jughead was around.
“Can we please talk about this ridiculous photography assignment?” Veronica asked from her seat on the other side the table. “It makes less sense than the plot to that movie Kevin made us watch last week about that creepy humanoid duck alien thing.”
Betty’s eyes drifted from her friends sitting at the other end of the table, to the boy sliding his hand onto her knee next to her.
“Hey, Howard the Duck is a classic and should be treated as such,” Kevin defended his movie of choice, pointing a finger at Veronica before reaching forward to grab a hand full of chips from the bag on the table. “Besides, the assignment seems pretty straight forward. Make a collage of the most meaningful experience from your past. Doesn’t really scream complex, pull-your-hair-out-after-six-cups-of-coffee-and-a-bottle-of-Advil, research assignment to me.”
Gently, Betty placed a hand on Jughead’s arm, feeling the fabric of his jacket through her fingers as she focused her attention on the splintering piece of wood on the table.
“Yeah, but every meaningful experience I can think of involves expensive shoes or really fancy cheese and I don’t think Mr. Buckley will appreciate such sophisticated taste,” Veronica pointed out, crossing her legs underneath the table and leaning forward to take a bite of her salad. “What do you think Betty?”
Jughead intertwined his fingers through hers, his thumb gently rubbing the back of her hand as they locked eyes, completely oblivious to anything else happening in the world around them.
“Hmm?” Betty mumbled, her eyes never breaking Jughead’s gaze. Veronica raised a curious eyebrow at the couple, quickly bending down to find their interlocked hands resting comfortably between them under the table.
“Are you kidding me?” Veronica gasped, turning to Kevin with wide eyes. “They’re totally holding hands under the table again!”
“Busted,” Kevin stood from the table to place a firm hand in the center of the wooden surface. “Drop em’ you two, we had a deal!”
“We tried, V, honestly,” Betty tried to explain, turning to Jughead and shrugging helplessly. “It’s like this gravitational pull that we can’t seem to break. Kind of like Kev and his bad taste in movies.”
“First of all rude, second of all gag,” Kevin scrunched up his nose in disgust as he snatched the bag of potato chips from the table and shoved a handful into his mouth.
“Okay, whatever but can you two please stop caressing each other long enough to listen to me complaining about school and expensive shoes?” Veronica whined, shoving her lunch tray away from her to place her elbows on the surface.
“Do we have a choice?” Jughead muttered. “Because I can think of about 734 other things I could be doing right now that sound like a better option than that.”
“Yeah, well, the one thing you really want to be doing right now is sitting right next to you so…” Kevin mumbled under his breath, tossing a chip into the air and catching it in his mouth.
“Kev!” Betty protested, her cheeks beginning to turn a faint pink color that always gave away her embarrassment.
“Oh, come on, you set that one up for me,” Kevin told her, his lips curling into a devilish smile as he set the bag of chips back onto the table.
“He’s right you know,” Veronica agreed. “You fell right into the trap.”
“I’m going to go get some more chips,” Jughead announced, standing from the picnic table and turning to Betty before walking back to the student lounge. “You want anything Bets?”
“No, I’m good thanks,” Betty smiled up at Jughead, their eyes lingering a second longer than necessary.
Veronica cleared her throat, and the couple turned away from each other to glance uncomfortably at the ground. “Oh no, we’re good too, Jugs, thanks,” Veronica said sarcastically, rolling her eyes at him as she watched him walk up the hill.
“You guys are the worst,” Betty informed them, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning forward on the table.
“And you two are adorable,” Kevin swooned.
“Adorably annoying,” Veronica corrected him. “Seriously control the touchy feely stuff while we’re around would you? Otherwise you’re gonna have to find some other friends to ignore every time the two of you are within a few feet of each other.”
“We’re not that bad are we?” Betty wondered, her brows drawing together in concern as she thought back to all the times her friends had caught them with their hands all over each other when they were supposed to be hanging out as a group.
“Trust me, you don’t want her to answer that, B,” Kevin warned her, turning to Veronica who simply to a sip of her water and shrugged.
“I’m really sorry guys,” Betty apologized. “I promise to be a better friend, I’m just…”
“In love?” Kevin finished for her, raising an intrigued eyebrow and crumpling his empty chip bag before tossing it in the trashcan behind him.
“What?” Betty gasped, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of the word ‘love.’ “No, I-”
“It’s okay to admit it, Betty,” Veronica cut her off, her face softening as she placed a gentle hand on Betty’s arm. “That boy can’t keep his eyes off you - or his hands it seems. I mean you’re literally his whole world. He obviously feels the same way.”
“You think?” Betty asked, hoping with everything she had that Veronica was right. “Sometimes I’m not so sure.”
“You should be,” Veronica assured her, grabbing her tray and turning in her seat to toss her empty salad container into the trash. “And you should tell him.”
“Oh, I don’t…” Betty mumbled, fully prepared to tell Veronica that she couldn’t tell him something like that, at least not yet. But after a moment of thinking about how she had been dating Jughead for almost six months and that her heart raced every time she was in the same room as him, she started to think that telling him that she loved him wasn’t so crazy after all. “You really think I should?”
“I do,” Veronica nodded. “And I think you should tell him tonight.”
“Tell who what?” Jughead snuck up behind Betty, wrapping an arm around her shoulders before returning to his spot next to her on the bench.
“Nothing!” Betty said almost too quickly. “It’s nothing - um do you want to walk me home tonight after we finish up at the Blue and Gold? There’s something I kind of wanted to talk to you about.”
“Absolutely,” Jughead told her, leaning forward to brush an eyelash off her cheek and smiling down at her. “Can’t wait.”
“Yeah,” Betty beamed at him, her heart beating a mile a minute the way it always did when he was this close to her. “Me either.”