floral tablecloth

Where The Wild Roses Grow

Summary: When Jughead becomes an active member of the Southside Serpents, him and Betty are starting to grow further and further apart, as the boiling volcano of Riverdale’s Civil War is threatening to erupt in full force. Can a heart to heart with Alice Cooper and an old Serpent jacket give Betty and Jughead the hope they both need?


(This is huge so grab snacks and drinks. The Bughead scene ruined me. I apologize for all of this. Warning: full angst and sin ahead! I’m not describing it as much anymore cause after the Jughead I saw in the finale that’s a given but still, after I post this, I’ll crawl under my covers in blushing embarassment.😂 Here you go, lovelies! I hope you enjoy this! ❤️)


“On the second day he came with a single red rose

He said, "Give me your loss and your sorrow?”

I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed

“If I show you the roses will you follow?”

The snow is slowly melting under the heaps of rain and so is her will to contribute to life these days. The icy scenery that adorns Riverdale gives out under the rays of sun that stubbornly peek through the pine trees and white oaks, ridding their leaves from the coldness of nature, only to become shiny droplets of clear water that hold the whole kaleidoscope of colors, just like tears and their colossal scale of emotions. He is the ice, she is the stubborn sun; that’s what he tells her through the sad darkness of each night that they lay together but further and further apart. He says it as a compliment, in the most sullen John Wheelwright fashion, but she accepts it gladly as her fingers form infinity signs over the crackling ice of his golden heart. Her hair is golden too under the dim moonlight, it’s a match made in heaven, and she vows that tomorrow she will try to burn hotter than the December sun over the patches of snow that are menacingly trying to turn him into a lifeless statue. And she does. But not today.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

1. One where Y/N has to stay with Josh and his family while her parents go out of town. Her and Josh don't really know each other but their parents do. But then they start to bond and it's cute. Like they cuddle up at night watching X-Files.

Wow this took me an unacceptably long time to write (sorry). But it’s pretty long so hopefully that makes up for it. I thought the prompt was super cute, so thanks to whoever requested it! I hope it’s at least sort of what you wanted!

Homesick (A Josh Dun Imagine)            

Trigger Warnings: none

“Why do I have to go? I’m old enough to stay on my own.”

“For three whole days? I don’t think so.” You mom’s tone said end-of-discussion, but you persisted.

“So you’re just gonna drop me off at some stranger’s house?”

“I already told you, Laura isn’t a stranger. We’ve worked together for years. She and her husband are very nice, and they have a son who’s your age.”

You tried to protest, but you were cut off before you could say anything else.

“You’re going, and that’s final.”

Knowing there was no use arguing, you slung your overnight bag over your shoulder with a huff before getting into the passenger seat of the car.

Your parents had always been protective of you. Being their only child, they treated you like their prized possession. They hated leaving you alone, even for a few hours.  Now, they were off on a three day vacation to Switzerland, leaving you in the care of some family you’d never even met. Great.

The drive was surprisingly short; it was only a few minutes before you pulled into the driveway of a modest but comfortable-looking house. You felt an uneasiness in your stomach as the car stopped. You didn’t want to stay here with a family you didn’t know. You just wanted to stay at home where everything was familiar, normal.

A woman comes out the front door as you pull up, almost as if she were waiting for you. She greets your mom with a friendly smile as you both exit the car, then turns to you and wraps you up in a big hug. Surprised by the sudden gesture, you stumble backwards a bit, but just as quickly as the hug starts, she’s let go. “You must be (Y/N)! Come on in, dinner’s almost ready!” She motions for you to follow her and heads toward the front door. Grabbing your bag and swinging it over your shoulder, you walk up the driveway slowly, your mother in tow, taking in all the details of the cozy little house.

As soon as you enter the door you’re greeted by Mr. Dun, a man with just as much enthusiasm as his wife. Standing off to his side is a tall boy, about your age. His dark hair is a mess of waves, and he’s dressed in a gray t-shirt and jeans. He offers you a smile, shy but polite, and you give him a half-hearted one in return.

“You’ll be staying in Josh’s room while you’re here.” Mrs. Dun said, pointing to a poster-covered door down the hall.  Smiling and leaning down so only you could hear, she whispered “Don’t worry, I made him clean it before you came.” You thanked her and headed down the hallway. The wood floor creaked with every step as you reached the door. Turning the handle slowly, you stepped inside.

Josh’s room was small, but it felt cozy, not claustrophobic. There wasn’t much room for furniture besides a bed, a desk, and a well-used drum set in the corner. Posters of rock bands and old movies were plastered to the walls, and a small, boxy TV set sat on top of the desk. The blankets on the bed were folded nicely, and the floor was surprisingly clean. Setting your bag down on the bed, you slipped off your shoes and headed back toward the kitchen.

The table was already set, four sets of silverware arranged nicely across the floral tablecloth. A heaping bowl of spaghetti sat in the center, next to a plate of delicious looking homemade garlic bread. The smell wafting through the kitchen was heavenly, and you suddenly realized how hungry you were.

Your mom left shortly before dinner started. When the door closed behind her, you felt a painful lump rising in your throat, symbolizing the start of what was going to be an awful three days. Here you were, alone with a family you’d never met before. Your stomach churned and the hunger in your stomach melted away into anxiousness.

You sat down at the table. Josh and Mr. Dun took the seats across from you, and Mrs. Dun scooped a large helping of pasta onto your plate before sitting down next to you.

She turned to you, offering a charming smile. “We’re very happy you’re here (Y/N).”

“Thank you. I’m happy to be here.” You answered hesitantly, unsure of what to say.

“So,” Mr. Dun looked up at you from his spaghetti pile. “What do you like to do in your free time?”

God, you hated small talk. Face growing warm, you twisted a few strand of spaghetti around your fork as you spoke, avoiding eye contact. “Um, I like to draw I guess. And I like music.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Josh likes music too. He plays the drums. What genre do you like to listen to?”

“I don’t know. Mostly rock. Some alternative.” You scooped a small bite of spaghetti into your mouth, chewing slowly to give your aching stomach a chance to digest.

“That’s interesting.”

What followed was silence, filled only with sounds of chewing and the soft clanging of silverware. You didn’t know which was worse, the failed attempts at small talk or the awkward silences that followed.

You managed to eat a bit more of the spaghetti before dinner ended. You had to admit, it tasted delicious, but the steady churning of your stomach kept you from being able to enjoy the meal. You’d never been homesick before, but right now all you wanted was to be with your parents.

You got up from the table and placed your dishes in the sink, thanking Mr. and Mrs. Dun for the meal.

“Do want to watch a movie or something?” Mrs. Dun asked.

You looked down at the floor. “I’m pretty tired, I think I’m just gonna go off to bed. Thank you though.”

She gave you a soft smile, but you could see the concern in her eyes. “Alright, let us know if you need anything.”

Guilt settled over you as you headed toward the bedroom. Here they were, being so nice to you, and all you were doing in return was shutting them out. You didn’t want to be here; you wanted to be at home in your own house where everything was familiar.

You threw on a pair of pajamas and brushed your teeth before crawling into bed. Unlocking your phone you began scrolling through Twitter, but you couldn’t focus, your mind was wandering elsewhere. Sighing, you switched your phone off and rested your head on the pillow.

You lay there in the dark for a while, listening to the rhythmic tick, tick, tick of the clock above the door. You weren’t sure how long you lay there, your mind racing. The painful lump in your throat grew larger as you tried not to think about home, about your parents. You rolled over onto your side, pulling the comforter tighter around you and squeezed your eyes shut, but it wasn’t enough to keep the tears from falling. Pulling your legs up against your chest, you hoped no one could hear your soft sobs through the door.

As if on cue, you heard a small creak, and a beam of light from the hallway crept across the floor. You held your breath, hoping you hadn’t been heard. You closed your eyes quickly and lay as still as possible, biting your lip to keep yourself quiet. Pretending to be asleep, you listened to the creaking of someone tiptoeing into the room.

“Hello?” The words were quiet, almost inaudible, but you recognized the voice as Josh’s. Though you didn’t respond, he continued. “I’m sorry, I… I came in to get my iPod and I heard crying. Are you okay?”

You didn’t speak, hoping that maybe if you wished hard enough, he’d go magically go away.

No such luck; he was still there. His voice was gentler this time. “Come on, I know you’re awake.”

You rolled onto your side toward Josh’s voice, squinting at the bright light coming from the hallway. “Go away.”

When he saw your red eyes and tear-stained face, his features softened. Walking over to you, he sat down on the bed, and you felt it dip under his weight. You sat up so you were facing him and pulled the blanket around your shoulders.

Clearly unsure of how to comfort the stranger crying in his bedroom, Josh looked down at the floor. After a moment, he finally spoke. “Why are you crying?”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. “It’s dumb.” You were suddenly embarrassed, realizing how stupid your homesickness seemed.

“No it’s not.” He whispered, looking up at you, his brow furrowed.

You took a deep breath, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t know; I just want to go home. No offense, your guys are really nice, it’s just… I don’t want to be here. I miss my parents.”

He studied your face as you spoke, listening intently. “I know how you feel. Being away from home kinda sucks.” He spoke slowly, as if choosing each word carefully.

You nodded in agreement, the knot in your stomach loosening a bit.

“Hey, you wanna know what always makes me feel better?” Josh asked, his voice perking  up. Without waiting for a response, he reached under the bed and pulled out a dusty cardboard box full of VHS tapes.

“Wow,” you said, your voice hoarse. “I didn’t know they still made those.”

“I got them at a garage sale.” He pulled a tape from the box and held it out to you. “Have you ever seen The X-files?”

You took the tape from him cautiously and turned the dusty case over in your hands, examining it carefully. “No, I haven’t.”

Josh’s face lit up in a smile. “Well then you’re in for a treat.”

-

The light of the static-y TV screen lit up the dark room as the episode started. Eerie music crackled through the monitor as the camera panned down on a dark forest. You watched as a woman in a nightgown ran through the woods as though she was being chased.

You glanced over at Josh sitting next to you on the bed. His eyes were wide with excitement as he watched, and you couldn’t help feel at ease as you sat there with him, propped up on pillows, entranced by the fuzzy little TV. His warmth next to you and the smell of his clothes made you forget your homesickness, and pretty soon you both were engrossed in the story playing out on the tiny TV.

Halfway through the episode, your eyelids began to feel heavy. You tried your best to focus on the storyline of the episode, but soon you found yourself struggling to stay awake in the dim room. Before you had time to think about what you were doing, you laid your head down on Josh’s shoulder in a sleepy haze.

You were surprised when he wrapped his arms around you, gently stroking your shoulder. Even though you’d only met this boy a few hours ago his presence was so comforting; it felt so natural. You let your eyelashes flutter closed as you relaxing into his embrace. You weren’t homesick anymore; being in Josh’s arms felt just like home.

“Thank you.” You whispered softly, your eyes still closed.

In one swift motion, he turned and his face was so close to yours and oh god you were kissing and his lips were so soft and his hand on your cheek was so gentle and your heart was pounding and you felt like you were flying and you never ever wanted this to end. When you finally let go, your palms were sweating and you were shaking slightly, but you were unable to keep the smile from spreading across your rosy cheeks.

Exhausted, you let yourself descend backwards into the bed, sinking into the mattress and curling yourself into the fluffy blankets. Josh wrapped his arm around you and lay back gently onto the pillow next to you. You tucked your head up against his side and nuzzled close to him, his arm around your back, and you let your tired eyes slip shut. It didn’t take long for either of you to drift off, wrapped in each other’s arms like lovers, illuminated in the dim blue glow of the television.

Strongest at the Broken Places

Post-running-to-Blaine’s apartment reunion sex/talk.

The lease on the apartment is up in two days.  

Blaine has put off moving the boxes that are his, not because he doesn’t care, but because he can’t bring himself to put his hands to them, to the packing tape and bubble wrap, can’t think about possibly coming across something that Dave had left behind.  

He feels fragile, strange and weak at his joints since kissing Kurt, since realizing that he hasn’t moved on, not in the slightest.  He doesn’t regret things ending with Dave–thinks that he misses him more as a friend than anything else, though the sex had been great–but seeing Kurt with Walter had taken the wind of that day out of his sails, and he feels lost.  Brittany and Santana’s wedding has only thrown into sharp relief how close and yet how far away he is from the fantasy wedding that he’d imagined he and Kurt would have.

And then there’s a knock at the door.

At first, he’s sure that it’s just another wedding “emergency”; more or less everyone involved in the setup of the event has come to him for advice but Kurt most often, calling and texting at odd hours about lighting or floral arrangements or tablecloths or hay bales, and Blaine is ready with witty barn animal jokes or whatever he might need to get Kurt to calm down.

But then Kurt is touching him, and Blaine would know that look in a crowded room at fifty paces–Kurt has cracked, is letting it all bleed to the surface, is present, emotionally and physically and probably in several other ways that science has yet to quantify.  

Keep reading

Wessa one shot

This chapter is based on this comic:
http://cassandraclare.tumblr.com/post/107545936894/willtessa-comic-from-cassandra-jean-and-me-tessa

I changed it a bit so that it’s different than the comic.

ENJOY!

In the London Institute, sounds of laughter rang throughout the halls like bells. Church was underneath the table, hissing at everyone angrily while trying to destroy the floral tablecloth. Henry Branwell was beaming at Gideon Lightwood and Bridget was dashing around with trays of puddings and cookies. Charlotte was busy scolding her son, Charles for breaking not one, but three glass plates “accidentally.” The Institute was filled with people Tessa never seen before and violin music was floating through the air, reminding her painfully of Jem. As if Sophie sensed her sorrow, she came up to Tessa with Barbara, her daughter.

Will held up Anna and stared into her beautiful green eyes, something she inherited from her father Gabriel Lightwood (worm). “Who’s your favorite uncle? Is it Uncle Will?” He asked with a grin on his face.

Cecily laughed, “You jealous?”

“Gideon’s always trying to get ahead of me with gifts and compliments. But I have natural charm.” Will pointed out as Charlotte scurried past them shouting, “Charles Buford! Get back here you naughty boy!”

Cecily turned to Will. “Do you think you would like one of your own?” Will knew that she was talking about children. He always have a special fondness for them, their innocent eyes and their childish laughs…

The light went out of Will’s eyes. “A child? I would, but Tessa doesn’t know - that is, it might not be possible.”

“Gwilym…” Cecily reached out a hand and ruffled Will’s hair.

Will forced a smile for her sake. He knew that Cecily knew how much he loved children. “It’s all right, I have Tessa and she makes me happy.”

He thought of all those surprises that Tessa had brought into his life. Bit by bit, she filled in the big hole that was Jem. She brought light into his life. Before, he was lost without Jem, but Tessa had guided him and made him find meaning again.

“It’s a strange thing being happy. I have to get used not feeling sad all the time.” He added, smiling at the memory of Tessa making him snacks after he came home after a mission. She always knew what he needed and how to make him happy. Tessa is a blessing to his life, and he wasn’t sure if he would have a life if he never found the warehouse that she was trapped in.

“I always thought Father and Mother had the greatest love story in our family. But I think it might be you.” Cecily gave a reassuring squeeze to Will’s hand.

“What about you and Gabriel?” Will questioned.

Cecily winked. “Well, he’s a Lightworm.”

They laughed but then realised that someone else was laughing with them. Will turned around to find Tessa standing there by the door. He noted with happiness that she was wearing the pale blue scarf that he bought her for Christmas. It brought out the blue in her eyes. Will always thought there is a contradicting sharp softness to her, as if she is capable of breaking your heart and piecing it together in one swoop.

“Will, can I talk to you?” She asked in that soft clarion voice that he love.

Cecily took that as a cue and carried Anna. She tugged on Charlotte’s sleeve and urged her to bring Charles. She winked at Will. “We are going to go to the nursery. Find us there when you’re done!”

Charlotte pretended to pout. “Just when there might be gossip!”

When they left, Will crossed the room in a few quick strides and immediately put his hand on Tessa’s arm. “Is everything alright?”

Tessa stared at him with her big gray eyes filled with tears.

“Is Jem all right?” Will asked urgently.

Tessa shook her head, her brown curls flying. “He’s well. Jem is fine.”

“Are you alright, Tessa?”

Then, to Will’s surprise, she smiled. She beckoned for him to lean in and she grabbed his neck, placing her mouth next to his ear. “I’m pregnant with a baby boy.”

Will pulled away and looked at her in shock, his hand covering his mouth. “A-are you sure?”

He realised that the tears before in Tessa’s eyes were not ones that are from sadness, they were from happiness. Tessa looked directly in his eyes and smiled at him tenderly. “I’m sure.”

Will grabbed Tessa’s hips and swung her around in circles, making her laugh and squeal. “James. Of course. We’ll name him James.”

Tessa looked at him with so much love in her eyes as she replied, “Of course.”

She brought her lips close to his and they kissed. The kiss tasted like love, of snow, of family and promises.