so my best friend and I were joking around and were like: what if students at Hogwarts had a youtube channel?

and then things went downhill.

  • What I Eat In A Day At Hogwarts | Neville Longbottom
  • Triwizard Tournament Haul // Cho Chang
  • weird things brothers fight about | the twins
  • Book Recommendations #43 | Hermione Granger
  • types of people at the yule ball | parvati patil
  • Hogwarts Houses Stereotypes | Luna Lovegood w/ Ginny Weasley
  • never have i ever | Hufflepuff Edition
  • 10 Things Only Prefects Understand | Percy Weasley
  • Reading Weird Muggle Stories || Ron Weasley
  • Witch Talk | Feminism, Sexism & Objectification | Hermione Granger w/ Luna Lovegood & Ginny Weasley
  • PUBLIC FLYING PRANK | the twins
  • spells against humanity || blaise zabini
  • How To Speak Fluent Sarcasm | Ginny Weasley
  • Common Room Tour | The Ravenclaws
  • I ONCE STOLE MY DAD’S CAR || Ron Weasley
  • THE BOYFRIEND TAG | Dean Thomas w/ Seamus Finnigan
  • Teachers Impressions in 5 minutes! | Ginny Weasley
  • Guess The Magical Creature // Luna Lovegood
  • how well do we know each other? - Harry James Potter ft. Ron Weasley
  • Daily Quidditch Workout | Oliver Wood
  • battle scars cover // Harry James Potter
  • Last Minute DIY Christmas Jumpers | Molly Weasley
  • New Bathroom Accessories | Moaning Myrtle
  • What’s In My Case | Newt Scamander
  • Going Through My Old Diary | The Dark Lord
Magic Works (aka STORY TIME)

Sit down, witches young and old.  I have a story to share.

So, in late Summer 2014, I was held at gunpoint and my car was stolen.  Without going into too much detail, I was out at night running errands and two masked men cornered me in the parking lot of my apartment complex.  (The Mister was not with me at the time; he was in the apartment.)  In the trunk of my car was my witchy box, which contained ALL of my most important craft materials including my book of shadows, my tarot, and my most beloved trinkets.  (I had taken it on a witchy retreat the weekend before.)

When they stole my car, they used it in a bank robbery and then ditched the vehicle after use.  I was DEVASTATED.  I couldn’t sleep or eat for days (trauma can be an absolute bitch); I was terrified to go out on my own, even on our porch.  I lost my job because I no longer had a means of transportation.  And to top it off, I ended up having a miscarriage around the same time.

Guys and gals, I went to a very dark place after this.  The police, as helpful as they were, told me that the likelihood of finding the vehicle was slim-to-none.  In fact, it is common in most places (and especially my state) that stolen vehicles are dumped in rivers or ravines, never to be found again.  What made matters worse was that I had JUST PAID THE CAR OFF and SWITCHED MY INSURANCE TO LIABILITY ONLY.  (For you bebes out there that don’t know, this means that your insurance company won’t replace the car if it is stolen.)

For months, I tried to dig myself out of this hole, but I felt like I couldn’t really connect with my craft because I was missing important elements to my spellwork.  Some of the things in that box were passed down for generations in my family.  They were absolutely priceless.  I felt so…lost.

The following May, I was visiting Tulum, Mexico.  A tropical storm was brewing off the shoreline and everyone else was drunk at one of the all-inclusive bar.  I watched from my balcony as surfers took to the turbulent waves and something came over me.  I felt a literal pull in my chest.  Something kept telling me to go to the water.

My family, friends, and the Mister all told me I was crazy when I went to the beach.  There was thunder, the waves were insanely high, and even the experienced surfers were having trouble.  On the lifeguard stands, black flags were posted (one of the signs that swimming is absolutely ill-advised) and for even an experienced competitive swimmer (that’s me!), it would be dangerous. But something told me to get into the water.

Nothing could have prepared me for the power of the ocean.  It pulled me when I resisted; it dragged against every limb and I became frightened.  But instead of thinking about the fact that I could possibly drown, I kept replaying those guys and their guns pointed at me, one shoved into my forehead.  I became angry; I kicked harder, pushed myself further until I felt the sand at my toes again.

I was crying and so angry.  I stood still in the water and called out into the wind.  I beat my fists against the surface of the sea (I probably looked insane, but no one was out there) and felt all of my pain seep away.  I begged the water for one thing: even if the car didn’t run, could my precious things be returned to me.  I bartered with the sea.

The sea giveth and the sea taketh away, as they say.  All of the hurt and terror and anguish I had felt over the previous year disappeared.  I was embraced by the water and somewhere so very deep inside me, I knew everything would be okay.  There was finally a sense of calm and clarity inside me, replacing the tumultuous emotions I had been feeling.

The morning we left, after the storms had passed, I went back to that secluded part of the beach and promised that I would dedicate my life to helping witches around me.  I had never made a promise like that in my life.

A month after that, the state police found my car.  It wasn’t in working condition at all, but everything remained intact in the trunk.  They brought it to my parents’ house and I rushed outside.  I sobbed when my dad opened the trunk and saw the box waiting, looking the exact same way it did the night the car was stolen.  Everything was in it, untouched by the elements.  (Eventually, I repaired the car enough for it to run another two-and-half-years, too!)

Magic is real.  Against impossible odds, there is power in every wish and desire.  I will never regret the promise I made that day.  I will never take for granted the gifts that have been given to me.  And when people scoff when I say that I am a witch, I inwardly smile and know that my magic is true and real.  I have all the proof I need.

‘partners in crime’ sentence starters

Send one to see how my muse reacts. 

Trigger Warnings: violence, death, criminal activity

  • “I can’t believe we stole a car.”
  • “My ID guy can get us in.”
  • “Remember – trust no one.”
  • “You owe everything you’ve got to me. Never forget that.”
  • “You and me, we’re partners, right?”
  • “Did you get the money?”
  • “Cops are coming to pick me up for questioning. My bet is, you’re next.”
  • “We better lay low for awhile.”
  • “Just act natural.”
  • “The cops will probably talk to us. Play it cool, and we’ll be fine.”
  • “I think we’ll be okay. They can’t prove anything.”
  • “No matter what they threaten to do to me, don’t tell them anything.”
  • “Let me take the fall. You’ve worked too hard to go to jail now.”
  • “I’d NEVER rat you out! The cops were just trying to get under your skin.”
  • “What do you think? You trust them?”
  • “I remember when you still had rules. When you still had limits.”
  • “This isn’t just about money.”
  • “I won’t survive jail!”
  • “One day we’ll be rich, and we won’t have to do this anymore.”
  • “It will be so nice to be in a country where we can’t get thrown in jail at any moment.”
  • “I think every person in America would like to see us dead.”
  • “No. No! We are NOT going to jail now! We’ve worked too hard!”
  • “Shut up and keep digging.”
  • “We need money, stat. You got a gun?”
  • “God, could you get them to stop screaming?”
  • “Shoot me. It’ll make them trust you.”
  • “Okay, last resort – we kill him and dump the body, then get the fuck out of Dodge.”
  • “We can’t hide forever. Our faces are on every news network in America.”
  • “We split the profits, 50/50. What do you say?”
  • “Where have you been?! I was worried the cops got to you!”
  • “You clean up the blood, I’ll start burning the body.”
  • “There’s no escaping this, you know. We’re in too deep.”
  • “Tell them the whole thing was my idea.”
  • “Make no mistake – we’re partners, but I’m in charge. Not you.”
  • “What we need are entirely new identities.”
  • “I don’t become involved with my partners. It over-complicates things.”
  • “Don’t you think we’re a bit old for this Bonnie and Clyde business?”
  • “I don’t trust any of them. Just you.”
  • “God, what’s happened to us?”
  • “Retirement? Yeah, we’re probably not gonna live long enough for that to be an issue.”
  • “Keep your head down. Last thing we need is to get recognized.”
  • “I’ll cover for you.”
  • “Run. I’ll catch up.”
  • “Jesus Christ, we’re like a bad murder ballad.”
  • “Don’t worry. I’m not going to leave you. You and I are partners – until the end.”

reblog if you agree

anonymous asked:

"Hello handsome stranger, you don't seem very good at hotwiring a car. It's the blue wire you should use. Or would you like the keys instead?"

When Clint walked out of the diner after lunch, the last thing he expected to see was someone attempting to hotwire his car. Judging by the amount of cursing, the thief wasn’t having a lot of luck. Since the thief had left the car door open, Clint watched him struggle for a minute. His would-be car thief was actually quite good looking (from what Clint could see of him, anyway).

Padding over, silently, Clint watched the thief work and tried to figure out why his car was being stolen in broad daylight by a good looking guy in an expensive suit with broad shoulders and clear blue eyes.

“God damn it! Why won’t you start?”

Clint held back a laugh and decided to give the thief a break. It’s not like the car was going anywhere and Clint could easily pull the guy out if he had to. “You’re not very good at this, are you? You’ve got to use the blue wire.”

The thief jumped at the sound of Clint’s voice so close and there was a hollow, ‘thunk!’ as his head hit the roof. “Fuck! Where did you come from?”

“The diner, right over there.” Clint pointed and then cocked his head to the side as sirens started to wail in the distance. “You maybe want to get out of my car? Looks like the police are headed this way for some reason and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind making a quick stop.”

Instead of the answer, Clint was hoping for, his thief started hitting the steering wheel and cursing more. “Those sirens are for me. I’m a cop and the shitty unmarked they assigned me for my latest case stalled as I got the call our perp was making a run for it. He’s headed this direction, so I picked the first car I found that was unlocked.”

Clint leaned on the roof and tried to mask his disbelief. “You may be a good looking guy, but I’m not  dumb enough to fall for that load of bull.”

Before Clint could continue his rant and try and forcibly remove the guy from his car, there was a badge in his face. Taking the badge, Clint whistled low and impressed. The picture on the ID was definitely Clint’s handsome thief and apparently, his name was Phillip J. Coulson and he was a detective for the NYPD.

Coulson snatched the badge back and went back to trying to hotwire the car. “Satisfied?”

“Um, yeah.” Coulson tried another wire and Clint sighed. “Blue wire, detective.” The sirens were louder now and Clint fished his keys from his pocket. “Unless you want the keys?”

Without another word, Coulson grabbed the keys and jammed them in the ignition. Clint leaped back as Coulson pulled the door closed and watched his car speed off.

“You’re welcome!” Clint yelled at the disappearing shape of his car.

“Who are you yelling at?”

“For God’s sake, Nat! I’m gonna put a bell on you one of these days.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

Clint smiled at his best friend and pointed in the direction his car had gone. “Hot cop stole my car. Think the insurance company will actually believe that?”

“I don’t even believe that.”

“It’s the truth. Detective Phillip J. Coulson stole my car and went to chase bad guys.” Clint and Natasha started walking to their shared apartment and Clint recounted the whole story.

–A Week Later–

Clint had just made coffee and was ready to pour himself a cup when he realized there were no clean cups to be found. He was seriously thinking of just drinking straight from the pot when there was a knock at the door.

Shuffling over to the door, Clint tried to hurry, but he could feel his pants starting to slide down his hips. Clint knew he needed to get rid of them since they too big, but they were also soft and comfortable and purple and he still loved them.

The knocking started again and Clint called out, “Hold your horses! I’m coming!”

Yanking the door open, Clint was ready to give whoever it was a piece of his mind but found himself speechless. Coulson was standing there, fist raised to knock again and looking sheepish.

“Good morning, Mr. Barton. I came to return your car.”

Clint stared at Coulson, not hearing a word. And really, who could blame him? Coulson was standing in Clint’s doorway wearing dark jeans and a light blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Clint’s eyes traveled up one strong forearm up to Coulson’s face and the thick, black-rimmed glasses that framed eyes that seemed even bluer now that Clint could get a good look at them.

“Um…I’m sorry, what?”

Coulson jingled the keys in his other hand. “Your keys. To your car?”

Shaking himself, Clint smiled. “Oh! Right! You couldn’t hotwire it. How’d you find me?”

Coulson grinned and Clint was almost distracted by the small crinkles that appeared at the corners of Coulson’s eyes. “The car’s registration.” Coulson’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “And I’m a cop. Finding people is kind of my job”

Clint laughed. “Right, do you wanna come in? Or…?”

Coulson looked nervous again. “Well, I was hoping I could convince you to let me take you out for coffee? As a thank you for letting me take your car. Or, I could just give you your keys and go. I totally understand if you don’t want to ever see me again.”

“I’d like that.”


Clint bit his lip, nervous himself now. “Coffee. With you. Sounds good. I just need to change real quick.” Stepping back from the door, he ushered Phil inside. “Come on in. Promise, I’ll be fast.”

Coulson smiled again and stepped inside and Clint ran to his room to change. He grabbed what he hoped were clean jeans and a t-shirt and quickly got dressed, not wanting to leave Coulson waiting for too long.

When he walked back into the living room, he found Coulson looking at their bookshelves and took a moment for himself to admire the detective’s backside. Clint was about to clear his throat to get Coulson’s attention when the man spoke first. “So you weren’t lying when you called me, ‘good looking’.”

Clint coughed. “What?” Coulson turned and smirked at Clint. “Of course I wasn’t lying. You are good looking.”

“Good. Ready for our date?”

Coulson tossed Clint his keys, and Clint was still shocked by Coulson calling this a date that he let them hit him in the chest. “Date?”

“That’s what I’m hoping this could be. It’s been a long time for me, but I like you and even though our meeting wasn’t exactly conventional, I think we could try.”

Regaining his composure, Clint took a step toward the door and smiled at Coulson. “I’d like that a lot…Phil.”

Coulson beamed back and followed Clint out the door.

cause somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in silence

A Not So Secret Rendezvous

Prompt: Could you write a fanfic about bughead not telling anyone they’re dating but the gang goes on a mission and finds them making out

So! I went a little ham and wrote 5 pages of this haha XD It went in a bit of a different direction than you might have hoped for. It’s more angsty and kinda deals with Archie’s feelings about Betty and Jughead being together. Bughead fluff, angst, and a little bit of varchie and jarchie (brOTP). 

A Not So Secret Rendezvous

“Hey Pop, has Jughead been around?” the redheaded boy asked earnestly. It had been over an hour since his new roommate snatched Archie’s car keys off the table and said, almost in an afterthought, “Borrowing the car, be back later thanks!” and rushed out the door. Archie had tried texting and calling him, but he received no answer from the mysterious writer.

“Sorry Archie,” Pop replied, “I haven’t seen him all day, it’s very unlike him.” Archie’s eyes widened. Very unlike Jughead indeed.

“Let me know if you see him okay?” Pop Tate nodded at Archie’s request. As he turned to leave the Chok’lit Shoppe, Veronica Lodge and Kevin Keller entered the establishment arm in arm.

“Archikins!” Veronica exclaimed, “I’m so glad we ran into you. Come sit, milkshakes on me.” She sat down into a bright red cushioned booth, casually tossing her designer purse on the table, while Kevin took a seat across from her.

“I’m sorry guys, I can’t. I’m looking for Jughead. Have you guys seen him?”

Kevin replied, “No, but he doesn’t exactly hang around me and V too often. I think our style and class intimidate him,” he joked. Veronica laughed, but Archie stayed stern. He was clearly concerned about his friend. Veronica spoke again, this time her tone much softer.

“What has you so worried? It’s Jughead, he’s probably curled up in some corner typing away at his laptop.” Archie reluctantly sat down next to Veronica, needing to share the oddity of the situation.

“He practically stole my car Ronnie. He ran out the door with my keys and said he’d be back later. No explanation, nothing. He’s not answering his phone, and Pop said he hasn’t even been in the Shoppe today. He’s acting weird and I want to know why.” Archie rested his elbows on the laminate table, sinking the weight of his frustrations into it.

“Well has Betty had any luck finding him?” Kevin asked. Archie shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen her today either.”

Veronica’s brow furled. “Wait, she’s not with you?” she asked, a hint of anger sewn in between her words. Archie shook his head, confusion in his eyes. Kevin leaned back in his seat with a scandalous grin. “She told us she was hanging out with you today Archie” he explained.

“What the hell? Since when does Betty lie? Since when does Betty lie to me?” Veronica spat out, digging through her purse for her cell phone.

“Seriously losers?” a smug, lilted voice spoke up from the booth behind them. The gang turned their eyes to Cheryl Blossom, sitting alone in the booth sipping on a vanilla milkshake. “You really can’t put two and two together? Are you that dense?” her large brown eyes scanned them condescendingly. She stood up, threw some bills on the counter for her drink, and said “I’ll spell it out for you, just because I’m apparently the only one with enough sense to figure out your little ‘problem’. A girl lying about her whereabouts plus a boy suddenly running off with a car equals Sweetwater Mountain Drive. Duh” She crossed her arms in front of her, her expression saturated with superiority.

“Cheryl that’s crazy. Betty and Jughead aren’t- they don’t- they’re just friends okay!” Archie’s sudden frustration through Veronica off guard. She gingerly placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to reign in his outburst with her touch. “Hang on a sec,” she said, “What is Sweetwater Mountain Drive and why is that apparently a big deal?” Cheryl rolled her eyes and walked out of the Chok’lit Shoppe, having lost interest in their piddly drama.

“It’s basically Riverdale’s own make out point. If Jughead and Betty are there, together…” Kevin let his words trail off, seeing an unexpected fire in Archie’s eyes.

“Look, maybe Betty and Jug are there, maybe they aren’t. And if they are, they’re probably just trying to find out more about Jason’s murder. I mean he’s writing some novel about it and Betty’s sister is pregnant with his baby so of course she wants to know what happened,” Archie was nearly rambling, determined to prove his logic.

“Or,” Kevin chimed in, playfully testing how far he could push the Andrew’s boy. “Or Betty and Jughead are parked at the top, in front of a lovely view of the mountains and sky, caught in the throws of passion and lust and-!”

“Oh shut it Kevin” Archie snapped.

“Archikins!” Veronica pushed his arm, trying to snap him back to reality. “Chill out okay? Why do you even care what they’re doing? For all we know they might not even be together right now. Cheryl kind of likes to stir the pot if you haven’t noticed.”

Kevin pulled his keys out of his pocket, and dangled them in front of Archie and Veronica, enticing their temptation for answers. “Well, I say we go find out.”

                                                    X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Betty and Jughead were sprawled out on the hood of Archie’s car, curled up in each other’s arms, and enjoying the start of a bright orange and red sunset over the mountains. At least, they would be enjoying the sunset if either of them could peel their eyes off each other. Jughead laid on his back, his arm wrapped around Betty’s waist. She was laying on her side, pressed up against him, her fingers tracing patterns on the skin just above his loose shirt collar. They were truly at peace with one another, and the whole world with all its drama and problems ceased to exist.

“So how exactly did you convince Archie to let you borrow his car? What did you tell him?” She broke their comfortable silence with her question. A sly smirk made its way across the dark haired boy’s lips.

“Well, I didn’t exactly give him an option. Just kind of took his keys and told him I’d be back.”

Betty laughed at her boyfriend’s impulsiveness. “Basically you stole a car to come hang out with me?” she jokingly accused.

“What can I say Betty Cooper? I’m trouble and you know it,” his dry wit made Betty internally swoon. He spoke again, “I wanted to see you and I didn’t want to figure out some grand excuse for Archie.”

“You know Juggie… You wouldn’t have to come up with excuses if we just told them about us,” Betty tilted her head towards him, hoping her suggestion would be met with consideration.

“Betty…” he spoke softly, caressing her cheek with his free hand. “The way I see it, everybody in Riverdale has secrets. Why shouldn’t we? This whole town has its nose in everyone’s business… it’s really nice to be with you like this and not have everyone’s mind on it.”

“How come you care so much what anyone else thinks of us?” She quietly asked, her tone not accusatory, but simply curious.

“I don’t,” Jughead replied swiftly. “Come on Bets, you gotta admit it’s hot sneaking around like this?” she giggled at his wit. “Listen…” he sat up, pulling her with him. Gentle green eyes meeting calm blue, he smiled and spoke softly, lovingly. “Let them figure it out on their own, and when they do I will stand proud beside you and tell the whole damn world that you, Betty Cooper, are my girl. Until then…” his fingers traced along her jaw and cradled her head, pulling her into a full, genuine kiss. She pressed against him, and he leaned again onto his back, taking her kisses with him.

                                         X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

“Oh. My. God.” Tightly gripping the steering wheel, Kevin was the only one able to speak watching  Jughead and Betty passionately kissing on the hood of Archie’s car. Kevin’s car was stopped down the road from the couple, just out of sight from them, but he, Archie, and Veronica had front row seats to their romantic scene. “I spoke a big game but I didn’t actually expect to find them up here… especially like… well like that.”

Archie’s face was like stone. He stared at the couple with intensity, his lip twitching as he tried to find words, any words, for what was going through his mind. Archie was so… angry. He couldn’t figure out why he was so pissed off at the thought, let alone the actual scene of his two best friends together. Betty was basically on top of Jughead, her hands running through his black hair, slipping his beanie off. Jughead’s hands were trailing down her body, pulling her hips towards him. Involuntarily, Archie reached for the car door. He was stopped by Kevin locking the doors, and Veronica grabbing his shoulders from the back seat.

“Archie don’t!” Kevin and Veronica spoke in unison.

“Why the hell not?!” Archie hollered. “They’ve both been sneaking around and lying to us! He took my freaking car to go make out with her! This is bullshit!” He slammed his fist against the door in frustration.

“Look man,” Kevin shifted to face Archie. “This isn’t the time okay? Think about what all they’ve gone through lately. Life is pretty messed up for them both. So I guess they found some comfort in each other. Let them have at least that.” Archie turned his head to look at Kevin, his breaths ragged from anger. Kevin cautiously continued “If you go over there and yell and scream at them for- for what exactly? Being happy together?” Archie glared at him, and Kevin froze, fearing that the fire in Archie’s eyes could translate to a solid punch in the face.

“Let it go Archie…” Veronica finally spoke from the backseat. “If you approach them now with guns ablazing, you’re gonna lose your two best friends,” She paused, watching Archie’s breaths begin to slow. “Kevin is right. They’re clearly happy together. I don’t know why they felt the need to sneak around, but it’s not our job to find that out right now. Let’s just go okay? Sleep on it, and if you really want we can ask them about it in the morning.”

Archie looked up again at the couple on his car. They were no longer kissing, instead they lay there holding each other, lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes. Archie really hadn’t seen Jughead look happy since they were kids, and yet there was the brooding teenager looking up at Betty like she was heaven on Earth. Betty’s smile was so sweet and genuine, and her whole body was relaxed against Jughead’s. They really were… happy.

Archie snapped his seat belt back on without a word. Kevin put the car in reverse, and quietly left the couple to their solitude. Kevin dropped Archie off at his house, and Veronica jumped out of the car too, telling Kevin she would have Smithers pick her up in a bit.

Archie flopped on the grass in his front yard. It was dark now, and the cool night air was refreshing on his angrily flushed face. Veronica sat down beside him, and studied his face in the dim light from the porch. He was calmer now, but clearly still upset.

“Well Archikins. You should probably start talking. I’ve never seen you lose your cool like that,” She said calmly. Archie let out a heavy sigh, submitting to the embarrassment of his actions.  

“I just… Betty has never liked anyone but me. Seeing her with someone else all of a sudden is just… I don’t know how to handle it.”

Veronica paused, trying to extrapolate Archie’s true thoughts. “Do you have feelings for Betty or not?”

“Not like that. I care about Betty, so much. I love her, just not the way she loves me. Loved me, I guess.”

“So it’s about attention then,” Veronica stated. “You like being the centre of her attention. It made you feel special and secure because no matter what you did, the girl next door would always be there to kiss your scars.” Archie scowled at the posh girl, but didn’t deny her accuracy. Veronica softened her tone, attempting to soothe him. “You know in your heart that Betty wasn’t going to dote on you forever. You know as well as I do that she is a brilliant, complex, whole person who deserves to be loved in the same way that she gives love. You said yourself you couldn’t be that person for her, and that’s fair. She accepted that, and even still tries to maintain a friendship with you. Now she’s found a person who can give her what she needs. And yes, I am just as surprised as you are that Jughead Jones is that person,” Archie sat up and leaned towards her, taking in her honest words and letting his anger go. “But Archie, you can’t punish her for doing what makes her happy. And the same goes for Jughead. If they’re happy together, who are you to tell them they’re wrong?”

Archie smiled softly. “You’re right Ronnie,” he said simply. She looked at the redheaded boy with seeking eyes, and he laughed. “I said you’re right okay? About everything.” They stood up from the damp lawn, satisfied with their honest chat. “You may be new to town, but you sure got us all figured out, Veronica.”

She smiled knowingly, proud of her own powers of deduction. “So then, Archikins, are you going to behave yourself around Riverdale’s newest sensation tomorrow?” she said with a giggle.

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a chuckle. Veronica kissed him on the cheek just as Smithers rounded the corner in a black limousine, and the wealthy raven haired cheerleader headed home.

Archie made his way upstairs and went straight to bed, his body aching for sleep after this emotionally exhausting day. Hours later, tossing and turning with no luck finding sleep, he heard Jughead sneak back into his room, and crawl into his bed on the floor. A moment of silence passed, and Archie took the risk and spoke. “I’m happy for you Jug.”

The writer shifted in his bed, “Yeah, I’m the envy of the whole town” he replied sarcastically. Another pause of silence passed.

“Be good to her man. Betty is worth every moment of it” Archie said quietly. He heard Jughead sit up, startled.

“How did you…” his voice trailed off, unsure how to proceed.

“Just be good to her, okay Jug?”

Jughead stared at the dark silhouette of Archie laying on his back facing the ceiling. He had questions, but he knew they could wait until later. Archie was trying to be supportive for once, and the brooding writer appreciated it.

“Okay Arch. Always.”


Tyler writes on everything he sees,
But no one notices the word “hello” etched into trees.
I always know I am truly home,
When the sunset reads, “life has a hopeful undertone.”
And no one seems to know,
That silent rooms are filled with, “Someone stole my car radio.”
Oh, I memorized the words above my bed,
The ones that ask, “won’t you go to someone else’s head?”
You see, Tyler has written lyrics everywhere,
But only people who understand can see them there.