So lately, I’ve been seeing a lot of things making fun of cashiers or other people being unable to do mental math, and I just wanna say, to everyone who mocks those people, or who thinks they’re stupid, or who “worry for their generation” when someone can’t mentally work out, say, how much change you get if you give them $10 when your order was like $7.38?
FUCK YOU. No, really. Fuck you.
Those cashiers aren’t “stupid”, they aren’t “being lazy”, they aren’t uneducated. Guess what? SOME PEOPLE CANNOT DO MENTAL MATH. At all. Their brains just cannot process it and so if you break their concentration or give them something beyond the very basic 10s or what not? They naturally are going to get confused.
I had a mental test today which tested me with mental math. Counting down from 100, we subtracted 7 each time. You know how far I got before I completely lost track and got confused? 93. That’s right, just the second time I didn’t know what to do. Because hey, guess what, I can’t do mental math. My brain isn’t wired that way.
So if you mock someone for not knowing how to count anything in their heads, regardless of what it is? You’re a terrible, shitty person.
it’s 100% easier not to do things than to do them
in terms of, like, instant relief, canceling plans is like heroin
eat ass, suck a dick, and sell drugs
i have had a very long day. i am very small and i have no money. so you can imagine the kind of stress i am under
holster and i have a new house. it was built in the '20s, but it was flipped in 2014. which means it's haunted, but it has a lovely kitchen backsplash
nothing that i know can help you with your car ever. unless you’re like, “hey, i’ve got a flat tire, does anyone here know a lot about 30 rock”?
it's fun to be married. i’ve never been supervised before. i’m supervised. farmer studies what i do, like an anthropologist. she'll be like, “sometimes, he will watch a movie on tv even though he already owns that movie on dvd. pointing this out confuses and upsets him"
the bad guy would hold the joint in a villainous way. they'd always offer the joint in a way that no one ever holds a joint. like it's a skull in a shakespeare play
i’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, i’ll die
ah... numbers, the letters of math
sometimes babies will point at me, and i don’t care for that shit at all
hey if you’re in an abusive relationship on this Valentine’s Day I want you to know that I love you and you deserve better. You deserve a safe and healthy relationship and I hope you manage to get out of your current shitty relationship soon.
Here is a drarry one-shot I wrote today, at 2a.m because I felt like it so I asked @theperksofbeingatotalnerd for any prompt and she, amazing friend as she is, gave me exactly the one I don’t know how to write. Also, yes, I also write shitty things sometimes, I don’t just read even though probably I should xD
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Draco was still trying to understand how he had ended up agreeing to play Truth or Dare. Especially one majorly composed by gryffindors.
He blamed it on the two firewhisky shots. Or maybe it was just that Harry bloody Potter had looked at him like he was expecting him to refuse. Yeah, that’s probably it. He couldn’t really back down from the challenge, could he? Besides, it had nothing to do with the fact that the prat was suddenly not-that-painful-to-look-at.
Anyway, the reason wasn’t really important. What mattered was how he was now stuck seeing Lee Jordan and Ginny Weasley making out like a new Dark Lord was going to vanquish the earth tomorrow. They didn’t really need to worry, though. The git who killed the last one was still alive and Draco figured that killing one more wouldn’t be that much of a deal.
Thankfully, the Weasley girl finally stepped away from the dark-skin boy and promptly sat in her spot again. The group held their breath, waiting for the one who would have to endure Ginny Weasley’s revenge. Draco just rolled his eyes.
“Harry” she spoke.
Draco rolled his eyes again, almost going blind.
The golden boy had been awfully quiet through the game. He only answered one truth question (and now everybody knew he did have boxers with little snitches flying around) and gave Luna Lovegood a quick peck on the cheek, as a result of a dare. The blonde believed people were going soft on him, afraid he would unleash his I-killed-Voldemort power on them. He wished someone would turn this game more exciting. Like, ask Potter to take his shirt off or something. Not that Draco wanted a look at his ripped abs. Or dreamt about them.
“Truth or Dare?” the red-head continued.
The boy seemed to shake himself out of some internal reverie and stared at the girl, almost evaluating his situation. Ginevra wasn’t known for making it easy. He ran a hand through his hair, messing the black locks even more and bit his lip, thinking. What Draco wouldn’t give to bi-
“Dare” he answered, looking at Ginny unfazed, almost like a challenge. All his body spoke Do your worst. There was just something about Potter when he got like this, like there’s nothing in the world he wouldn’t face, nothing he wouldn’t do to catch the snitch. It gave Draco a hot chill down his spine.
Ginny smiled like the cat who caught the bird. Harry didn’t even blink.
“I dare you to sit right next to the person you like. And don’t come saying you like all of us. I mean your crush.”
At that, the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice lost some of the colour on his face. He gaped at the girl, as if trying to understand if it was real. The people around him had different reactions. Granger looked unsurprised, the Weasel was practically snoring in her shoulder, any attention to the game gone, Luna cooed lightly at his right, Longbottom was almost as astonished as Potter and the rest of the group (including Pansy and Blaise) just looked eager at the prospect of having a clue on the person who stole the Saviour’s heart.
“You can’t be serious.” Potter finally said.
“Oh, don’t make such a scene. I was nice. We’re in a circle, so you can choose which side next to him to sit and no one will know which one of them is it.”
Did she said ‘him’?!
Potter sighed and scratched his face, mumbling something that sounded a lot like “I don’t even know why I still play this”. Every eye was locked on him as the boy got up, eyes cast down, and started to make his way to the other side of the circle. The side Draco was on. It was with a mist of mortification and admiration that the Slytherin watched as the black haired boy took a few more sheepish steps and promptly sat next to Dean Thomas and him.Everything suddenly seemed to vanish from his view. It couldn’t be, could it? It had to be Thomas, it only made sense. They knew each other for years, had shared a dormitory, both gryffindors… there was no chance… no way that… it couldn’t be Draco. However, his mind didn’t really want to follow the logic and it concentrated, instead, in the last few months. How Harry always made sure Draco wasn’t forgotten by the other eight years, the late night talks when neither of them was able to sleep in the complete darkness of their shared dormitory, the few study sessions they shared at the library, how he sat next to him in Christmas once he realized he was alone, when he visited him at the infirmary after a nasty fall on a Quidditch game (even though Draco still caught the snitch)….
And he knew. He knew for long that he had fallen in love with the specky git, even against his better judgment, even knowing he never stood a chance. He knew how he had disguised it, even to himself, with snarky remarks and cold sarcasm. He also knew how he failed it, numerous times, with a small smile that shaped his lips whenever Harry said something funny, with the light laugh he was unable to contain when he did something idiotic, with the lingering looks and the dreams that-
“Draco?” Came a sound next to him. His reverie hadn’t gone unnoticed and the group was staring at him expectantly.
Wait, what? Draco?!
“Hm, yes?” he managed, weakly.
“Truth or Dare?” Potter asked, staring at him, intently, heavily.
He almost lost himself again in the bright green.
“Truth” he choose, a bit more composed.
Harry took a few seconds, searching for something in Draco’s grey iris, finally speaking once it seemed he found what he was looking for.
“Is the person you love in this room?”
It was an easy question, he knew. It could be one of at least twenty people. And still, he didn’t care about any of the other nineteen, focusing only in the boy at his left, all tousled hair and red lips.
“Yes.” He breathed.
Harry then turned and looked straight ahead, not even sparing one more glance at him. He could feel the other people looking at them, at him, waiting for his turn. But all he could do was feel the tension between him and Harry, not like the hate they shared years ago instead pulling him to the other boy. That’s when he noticed how the Gryffindor was still slightly leaning to him, shoulders almost touching. How the pink tip of Harry’s tongue darted out to damp the soft lips. How even trying to look straight ahead, the green eyes still flicked at him.
“Harry,” he heard himself saying “Truth or Dare?”
It only took the boy a second to decide, turning once more to stare at him directly.
And Harry did.
And now there’s was no denying, because Harry might always have been a ‘do first, think later’, but nothing, nothing, he ever did had this passion, not even flying. There was nothing that could have prepared him for this. It was Draco’s every daydream and more. Wet, full lips were against his and he could swear nothing had ever felt so good. He cupped Harry’s face with his hand and changed the angle, allowing the other boy to deepen the kiss, tongues swirling and mingling so no one could tell which one belonged to who. Their breaths were coming short and heavy and they didn’t care. All they wanted was the other. Eventually (even after several catcalls and whistles) they separated, Harry giving him a sweet peck to complete it and a loving smile.
Draco, however, still had to make sure. “So, it was me?”
“It was always you.”
Draco took his hand, tugged him to their dormitory and, not sparing a second glance at the rest of the group, said “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I was rereading the comic right before Jack and Shitty’s last game and Shitty says that if they win he gets a lifetime supply of Jack Zimmermann hugs. Well, obviously they lost.
But, I was thinking about everything and… here you go.
Tater leaves the Christmas celebration after a slice of pie, bowing out by saying he needs to Skype with his mother. It gives the apartment the odd, after-Christmas feeling where nothing feels quite real.
But it’s nice, just Jack and Bitty and Shitty in the kitchen, similar to how it was in the Haus.
“Bits,” Jack says, exasperated. “You just cooked an entire Christmas dinner. By yourself. No, don’t say I helped, we all know a kindergartner could have helped just as much. Let me and Shitty do the dishes.”
Bitty sighs but relents, retreating to the living room.
“You two are so good for each other it hurts,” Shitty says, shaking his head. “Honestly. Hosting Christmas dinner together. Bitty here for the holidays.”
“It’s great,” Jack says, barely catching a lovesick sigh before it escapes. “I’ve never… I don’t even know how to put it. But I’ve never. Any of this.”
“The great Jack Zimmermann, finally spilling deets,” Shitty says, elbowing him playfully where he’s drying dishes. “’I’ve never any of this’. Such detail. Such poetry.”
“Oh, shut up,” Jack gets out around a laugh. “Because you’re so generous with information about you and Lardo.”
“Look at us, all grown up and in secret, clandestine relationships. We’ve grown up so fast,” Shitty says, wiping away a fake tear.
“Oh - that reminds me. I have something for you.” Jack wipes his soapy hands off and heads for the hall closet.
“Hey! I thought -”
“It’s really small. Not a big thing.”
“This is coming from the person who bought his teammate an oven just because -”
“No, this is actually a small thing. It probably cost a dollar. Rounding up. And it can be for your birthday if you don’t want it to be a Christmas present.” Jack reenters the room with a tiny gift bag, which Shitty takes.
“You’re ridiculous, Jack, I don’t know why - holy shit.” Shitty stops midsentence when he opens the gift.
“Ah, I don’t know if you remember? But our last game -”
“I said that if we won I get a lifetime of Zimmermann hugs.” Shitty stares at the homemade, printed certificate.
“Right, but we lost. But I know I haven’t been a great friend these past couple of months -” Shitty snorts. “- but you’re not any less important to me now. So. Yeah.”
“So you just gave me an infinite supply of hugs. In writing.”
“We can get it notarized if you want.”
“We can get it note - Good God, Zimmermann, how does Bitty put up with you?” Shitty says it in an exasperated tone, but his voice gets thick and he has to wipe his eyes a little.
“You’ll have to ask him, because hell if I know.”
“I’m cashing in on one of these,” Shitty says, waving the certificate a little. “Right now.”
So I finally went through omgeverythingplease and here are things that I didn’t know
Bitty is OBSESSED with food. OBSESSED.
Boy has a *problem*
Like I know we like to headcanon that Bitty goes into some sort of media, but he’s more likely to become a food critic. Basically he’s more into the “baking” part of “baking vlog” than the “vlog” part.
Holster is a grumpy messy bitch.
For real, the team seriously debated who was grumpier: Jack or Holster
(for like, a hot second, before the answer became obvious)
(It’s Jack. Jack is the grumpiest)
Ransom and Bitty are very close friends. Close enough that Bitty chirps Holster that he’s being replaced via tweet.
Ransom and Bitty get PSLs from “ ‘Bucks”.
That is a quote. Eric Richard Bittle has called Starbucks, ‘Bucks.
(I bet he calls Target, Tar-zhay too)
This one was a bit more analytical: we found out about Jack coaching peewee via Bitty’s twitter
Bitty is the one who tells us that the Jack says the kids call him “Coach Z”
Because Bitty is the one who typed out the tweet, if the kids called Jack “Coach Zed”, he would have spelled out “Zed.”
Therefore we can assume that the kids called Jack “Coach Zee” and not “Coach Zed”
However this revelation by Jack was immediately followed by a debate over Zee vs. Zed. So who really knows?
I still don’t know how either of them pronounces “pecan”
There are some serious fucking problems occurring on this website, like:
Peoples’ grimoires are way too artistic. Like seriously you all need to tag that shit like “hey this may trigger you because this Van Gogh beautifully-crafted art style might blind you and gush your morality with its beauty and cause your perspective of your own grimoire/BOS to wilt like a flower on fire”. I don’t take the time to even update my BOS, never mind decorate it with these gorgeous illustrations.
The quality of pictures are way too high. I don’t know where people are getting all these professional cameras. Like I take pictures with my phone or shitty Samsung and post them, and I know I wouldn’t even reblog that shit, the quality is way too low. This results in a standard of high quality Instagram-worthy pictures that is too high for me to keep up with, y’all need to lower your photography skills.
Peoples’ altars are too perfectly positioned in the sunlight, like bathing in the holiness of the sun or moon and washing any of vestige of mortality away from that spot. This kinda weaves into the photography complaint but basically, y’all stop being so artsy.
Digital sigils are too easily and perfectly displayed. I don’t know how people make those sigils, it’s like an elusive angelic society that just sprinkles down talent and useful spells like falling stars. Seriously y’all need to post a how-to on that shit because I don’t have a tablet and just take pictures of hand-drawn sigils, but even those who post their hand-drawn sigils draw them incredibly better than I draw my sigils.
The witches on this site are way too creative. They’re all thinking of tips and techniques I never thought of before, and it makes everyone else feel dumb because they didn’t think of them first.
Pretty much every witch on this site seems to have a green thumb. They say taking care of plants doesn’t require a green thumb, but I beg to differ because pretty much every plant I own dies. Like I don’t know if it’s because I’m a death witch and am literally radiating death energy, but I can’t keep plants alive for my own life. Green witches gotta share their real secrets, HOW are you keeping your plants alive.
Then there are some problems like elitism, transphobia, homophobia, racism, nazism, blatant disrespect for peoples’ religions and cultures, the hatred with which we argue, and the fear that I’m always being scrutinized and that no matter what I say extreme SJWs will cherry-pick the things I say and misconstrue my argument into something i never said in the first place so i might as well just not even say my opinion on anything which i’m doing right now so i’ll just shut up and continue the joke
The spooky and ethereal Witch Aesthetic™ is too on point. All the hanging herbs and lit candles and smoke from incense are too entrancing and immediately calm my mood and cause me to daydream about the eloquence of the witchy aesthetic. It’s too romanticized. It causes me to enjoy my own craft too much, and I reblog too many of them. We need to cut those down by a bunch.
hey, guess what! mark’s thrown us for a loop! again! :,D
today we got another security camera picture, more letters - and another video. said video confirms what we were all thinking after yesterday; it is indeed a torn up picture lying on the ground, with the eyes of the people in it scribbled out.
now i don’t know about you guys, but to me, this looks like a chef and a waiter. and think about it: we’ve already seen both of them before; tyler and ethan were dressed as waiters in a date with markiplier:
…and we also had a chef. who is all confirmed to be a part of the next project, going by this picture:
…does this mean we’re actually getting something similar - if not a sequel - to a date with markiplier??
his junior year, Jughead goes to New York for a writing internship.
swearing, you might cry
Word count: 4,574
A/N: umm first of all thank you for 7000 followers?? holy crap. anywho wowowow this
is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written.
It’s based off of the song “Ever Since New York” from Harry Styles’s
album (which I love btw). This is probably
my favorite thing I’ve ever written tbh. Hope you all enjoy!
Tell me something,
tell me something
You don’t know nothing, just pretend you do
After years of saving the money he earned at the Twilight
Drive-In and other odd jobs, Jughead finally had enough to buy a plane ticket
to New York. He had discovered a writing
internship there that he knew he had to do.
It didn’t take much effort to convince his dad to allow him to go; in
fact, FP even offered to pitch in some money.
Jughead refused, claiming that he wanted to do this all on his own. He wanted to deserve this internship as much
He started talking to Veronica frequently, asking her about
her time in New York. She, of course,
gladly answered all of Jughead’s questions. She was glad to finally bond with her
boyfriend’s best friend.
Jughead also pestered Betty with questions, seeing as she
had done an internship similar to his two summers ago. It was a bit awkward at first, since the two
of them used to date. However, they both
got over their awkwardness for the sake of preparing Jughead for his
“It’s really amazing,” Betty told him. “It’s a great experience, and you’ll learn so
“What are other people like?” Jughead inquired. “Are they pricks?”
“Sometimes,” Betty laughed.
“It depends. Do you know how many
other people are participating in the internship?”
“Just one,” he answered, shrugging. “I don’t know who it is though.”
“Well, if they’re a jerk then that’s gonna suck,” she
offered. “But if they’re nice, they may
become one of the closest friends you’ll ever have.”
“Yeah,” Betty replied and nodded. “You’re gonna spend all summer with this
other person. They’re either gonna drive
you up the wall or become your new best friend.”
I need something, tell
me something new
Choose your words, ‘cause there’s no antidote
For this curse, oh, what’s it waiting for?
Must this hurt you just before you go?
“Have fun in New York, Jug.”
FP patted his son on the back as they stood at the airport gate. Betty, Veronica, Archie, Fred Andrews, and
Kevin stood behind FP, all wearing supportive smiles. Jughead glanced around at the group who
followed him to the airport, filled with admiration of his friends and family.
“Thank you guys,” he said, fighting back a giant grin. “You didn’t all have to come, though.”
“Of course we did,” Fred Andrews argued. “We’re not gonna see you all summer,
Jughead. We have to give you a proper
“Well, proper send-off achieved,” Jughead laughed. He watched as others in the line began to
move. “I guess I should go now. Thanks for this. See you all in August.” As he turned on his heel and walked away, the
group of six gleefully waved at Jughead’s retreating figure.
“You aren’t worried about Jughead all alone in a giant
city?” Fred asked FP as they exited the airport.
“Nah,” FP responded, waving his hand. “He’s a smart kid, he’ll find his way.”
Oh, tell me something
I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
“Hi, I’m Jughead Jones,” he introduced himself at the front
desk. “I’m here for the writing
The lady sitting behind the desk glanced up at Jughead. “Ah, yes!
We’ve been expecting you, Mr. Jones!” she exclaimed, standing from her
“Oh, am I late?” Jughead inquired.
The lady shook her head.
“Oh no, not at all. Your
counterpart just got here early, so we’ve been waiting for you to start.”
“Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she gestured to a girl sitting on a
chair against the wall, flipping through a magazine. The girl perked up when she heard her name,
and saw Jughead and the receptionist staring at her.
“Is this him?” (Y/N) questioned, standing up and setting the
magazine down. Jughead noticed it was a
“Yes,” the receptionist answered. “(Y/N), this is Jughead Jones.” Jughead stuck his hand out to shake, and
(Y/N) firmly shook his hand.
“I hope you’re not an asshole,” she blatantly said as they
released hands, “because we’re gonna be stuck with each other all summer.”
“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he quipped.
(Y/N) raised her eyebrow in interest. “Quick-witted,” she noted with a smirk
forming on her face. “I like it.”
“You better,” Jughead fired back, biting back a grin. “Like you said, we’ll be around each other
“If we were together any longer, I’d worry about you falling
in love with me,” she jokingly warned.
“So be careful.”
Brooklyn saw me, empty
at the news
There’s no water inside this swimming pool
“When’d you get here?” (Y/N) asked as she and Jughead exited
the building, their first day of the internship finished.
“Two days ago,” Jughead answered with his hands in his
pockets. “What about you?”
“Last week.” Her pace
was quick, and she seemed determined to get somewhere. “Are you hungry? Because I’m starving.”
“I would love some food,” Jughead almost moaned at the
thought of food. He was only able to
scarf down a small lunch in the midst of the business.
“I know this great burger place,” (Y/N) explained as she led
the way to the restaurant. “It’ll make
every other burger you’ve ever eaten seem like a pile of shit on a bun.”
“I doubt that,” Jughead scoffed. “There’s a diner where I’m from that makes
the best burgers you’ll ever eat.”
“Where are you
“Riverdale,” he said.
“Pop’s diner, that’s what it’s called.
If you ever find yourself in Riverdale, stop by Pop’s. Trust me, you’ll thank me.”
“Well we’re not in Riverdale right now, Jughead Jones,”
(Y/N) reminded him. “So you should thank
your lucky stars that I am your counterpart,
because I’ve been here for the past week.
You know what I’ve been doing for that week? Exploring, Jones. I have tried and evaluated twenty-one
restaurants, and I know where to go for whatever you’re craving.”
“What if I’m craving Korean food?” he quizzed.
“32nd street, there’s a great Korean grill,” she
“There’s a quaint little place on 135th street.”
“What if I want to get wasted?” Jughead smirked.
“There’s a club a couple of blocks away with shitty
security,” (Y/N) answered with a smirk equally as wide. “Or maybe I was just an exception, seeing as
how attractive I am.”
“I think you overestimate yourself,” he scoffed, playfully
rolling his eyes.
(Y/N) lightly slapped him on the arm. “I do not!” she retaliated.
“Whatever, keep lying to yourself.” Jughead quickened his pace, leaving (Y/N)
“Hey!” she called out, rushing to catch up to him. “You better not leave me! You don’t even know where you’re going.”
“You’re still here,” he noted, casually wrapping his arm
around her shoulders. “Lead the way,
Almost over, had
enough from you
And I’ve been praying, I never did before
“God, this food sucks,” (Y/N) whispered, gesturing towards
the plates of Japanese food sitting in front of her and Jughead. “That place we ate at last week was so much
“True,” Jughead agreed with a mouthful of food. “But this place is cheaper.”
“Rightfully so!” she exclaimed, jabbing at her tofu with a
chopstick. Jughead silently laughed and
shook his head, continuing to eat his fried rice. He watched as (Y/N) picked at her dish,
examining each aspect of the meal.
It had been three weeks since their internship had begun,
and Jughead and (Y/N) quickly became close friends. They bonded over the overwhelming amount of
work at their internship and their food-discovering adventures. Jughead didn’t know how he would’ve survived
an entire summer in New York without (Y/N) by his side. They even stayed at the same hotel, so during
a sleepless night, one would wake the other and stay up all night talking. On those nights, they would drink hot
“I’ve got the check tonight, Jug,” (Y/N) said, snapping
Jughead out of his thoughts as she took the bill from the waitress. Jughead furiously shook his head.
“No, (Y/N), you got dinner yesterday,” he protested,
reaching out towards the bill. “I’ll
cover it tonight.”
“You got lunch!” she exasperatedly exclaimed. “I can handle it. Dinner wasn’t even expensive last night or
Jughead huffed as the waitress returned and took (Y/N)’s
money. “Fine,” he pouted, “but we’re
gonna go out for desert, and I’m paying for it.”
“Ice cream?” Jughead offered, standing from his chair. (Y/N) followed suit, and they exited the
diner. She slowly grabbed his hand,
intertwining their fingers.
“I’m feeling frozen yogurt tonight,” she countered his
offer, grinning up at him.
“What’s the difference?” Jughead playfully scoffed, trying
not to blush at their hand-holding. They
had started doing it last week after he almost lost (Y/N) in a giant mass of people.
“I swear to God, Jug, you said the same thing last week, and
I explicitly explained it to you.” (Y/N)
rolled her eyes. “Ice cream is-”
“Made with cream, whereas frozen yogurt is a yogurt-based
treat,” Jughead quoted what (Y/N) had told him last week.
“I knew you paid attention to me.”
Understand I’m talking
to the walls
I’ve been praying ever since New York
In the middle of the night, the phone started ringing. Jughead, still half-asleep, answered it with
his eyes remaining shut.
“You can come over,” he said, not waiting for the caller to
initiate the conversation.
“Okay,” (Y/N)’s quiet voice responded, and she hung up. A few moments later, a soft knock resonated
through Jughead’s hotel room. He rolled
off of his bed, throwing on a t-shirt, and opened the door. (Y/N) stood in the doorway, slightly
“You cold?” Jughead murmured. (Y/N) wordlessly nodded. He gently grabbed her arm and led her inside,
shutting the door behind them. He stripped
the blanket off from his bed and draped it over her shoulders, wrapping (Y/N)
in the soft white material. (Y/N) smiled
up at him.
“Why do you put up with me?” she asked, sitting on his
bed. Jughead mimicked her actions and
sat next to her.
“What do you mean?” he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.
“How are you not sick of me?” she elaborated. “I mean, we’ve been constantly hanging out
for, what, a month and a half now? You
know if I’m annoying you, you can just tell me.
I’ll back off.”
“Why would you annoy me?” he asked, slowly wrapping his arms
around her waist and pulled her into his lap.
“You’re the best part about this internship.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“I’m not,” Jughead lightly laughed, slightly nudging
her. “I’m serious, (Y/N). Before I came, I was asking my friend Betty
about internships. She did one two years
ago, so she knew what she was talking about.
She told me that the people I’ll meet during this internship will either
drive me up the wall or become one of my closest friends.”
“So I haven’t driven you up the wall?” (Y/N) inquired with a
“Of course not,” Jughead laughed loudly this time. A moment of silence ensued, both (Y/N) and
Jughead overwhelmed by sleepiness.
“Is Betty your girlfriend?” (Y/N) broke the silence, staring
up at Jughead.
“No,” he muttered, brushing a strand of hair out of her
face. “She was,” he admitted, “but not
“Nothing bad,” he shrugged.
“Sometimes things just don’t work out, you know?”
“Yeah,” (Y/N) muttered.
“I had a boyfriend.”
“Shut up!” she whined, elbowing him. “Yes, I had a boyfriend. He was actually a total dickhead.”
“How?” Jughead asked, growing concerned.
(Y/N) looked up at him and giggled. “Oh, you’re worried,” she cooed, placing a
hand on his chin. Jughead swatted it
“Sue me,” he retorted, but then grew serious. “But really, what happened?”
“Nothing bad,” she replied, facing away from Jughead. “We were dating for a while, and… I don’t
know. He never really supported me in
anything. He wasn’t nice to any of my
friends, and I didn’t notice for so long because I was so fucking smitten. Eventually it hit me one day, and I realized
that he was horrible. So, naturally, I
“As one does,” Jughead nodded, nonchalantly tracing patterns
on (Y/N)’s right arm with his thumb.
(Y/N) slumped and sighed.
“What time is it?”
Jughead glanced at the clock with its blaring, bright red
numbers. “Three o’clock.”
“Jesus,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. “I should… I should get back to my
room.” She jumped off the bed and
trekked towards the door, her bare feet dragging on the carpet.
“Wait,” Jughead commanded, grabbing her arm. “Don’t go, it’s too late.”
“You say that as if I have to walk across New York City,”
(Y/N) joked. “It’s fine, Jug, my room is
down the hall. I’m not gonna get
“No, but you may fall over before you reach your room,” he
countered with a lighthearted smirk.
“Just stay here tonight, okay?”
(Y/N), too tired to argue, needed no more convincing as she turned
around and climbed into Jughead’s bed.
He laid down, patting the space next to him. (Y/N) tentatively settled next to him, slowly
resting her head on the neighboring pillow.
“You can get closer than that, you know,” he told her, amused by her
unusually timid nature. She hesitantly
scooted closer to him, until she was near enough for Jughead to wrap his arms
around her waist and pull her against his chest. “That’s better,” he whispered into her
hair. She draped one arm around his
torso, the other arm tucked under their now-shared pillow.
“Night, Jug,” she murmured, eyes already closed. He smiled at her.
Oh, tell me something
I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
“Oh, Jughead, how is it?” Betty eagerly asked, her face
displayed on his laptop screen.
“It’s been great,” Jughead answered.
“What restaurants have you tried?” Veronica questioned from
her spot next to Betty.
“A bunch,” he vaguely replied. “(Y/N) is attempting to try every restaurant
in New York City. I think it’s
impossible, but she’s determined.”
“Who is (Y/N)?” Archie inquired, popping his head into the
Jughead laughed, “Where do I begin? She’s my ‘counterpart’ for the
internship. We’ve become very close.”
“I told you,” Betty grinned.
“You were right,” he admitted. “Right when I met her, I… I don’t know, it
just felt like something clicked between us.
We’re inseparable.” Betty’s
expression slightly darkened, but Jughead waved it off as a bit off jealousy.
“Ah, you’ve got it bad, bro,” Archie laughed at his best
friend. Jughead rolled his eyes.
“It’s not like that, Arch,” he explained. “It’s like Betty said, you grow really close
to people when you spend so much time together.”
“But you don’t blush when you talk about them,” Veronica
noted, pointing out Jughead’s dusty pink cheeks.
“You’re imagining things,” Jughead scoffed. Betty, Archie, and Veronica shared a knowing
“If you say so,” Veronica sing-songed. Before Jughead could respond, there was a
knock on his door. A smile
subconsciously grew on his face.
“Speaking of (Y/N),” he said, standing up and walking
towards the door. He opened it, and, as
expected, (Y/N) stood there.
“Are we going or not, Jug?” she pressed, grabbing his
hand. “I told you the line for the
rainbow bagels is super long. I don’t
want to spend all of Saturday waiting for one, even though they’re so fucking
“I’m video chatting with my friends right now,” Jughead told
her, gesturing towards his open laptop.
“Can you wait like five more minutes?”
“Fine,” (Y/N) huffed, crossing her arms. She stepped into his room, allowing him to
close the door behind her. She followed
him as he sat back down in front of his laptop, resting her chin on his
shoulder as she peered at the screen.
“These are your friends?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed.
“That’s Archie,” he gestured towards the redhead, “the blonde one is
Betty, and that one is Veronica.” (Y/N)
smiled at Jughead’s Riverdale friends.
“You must be (Y/N),” Betty smiled. “Jughead was just talking about you.”
“Of course he was,” (Y/N) joked, nudging his arm. Jughead playfully shoved her back.
“So how’s it been?
Three months with the infamous Jughead Jones?” Veronica inquired with a
smirk dancing on her lips.
“Well it hasn’t been three months quite yet,” (Y/N)
corrected her. “I’ve only gotta deal
with this guy for two more weeks.”
Jughead’s face slightly deflated as this realization hit him. “Let me tell you, he’s quite the handful.”
“We know,” Archie laughed.
Jughead opened his mouth to say something, but (Y/N) interrupted him.
“Shit, I left my phone in my room!” she exclaimed, standing
up. “I’ll be right back, Jug.” She turned and faced the laptop. “It was great talking to you guys. I hope we can meet sometime!” She quickly exited Jughead’s room. Immediately, Veronica, Archie, and Betty
bombarded him about (Y/N)
“You lucked out, bro,” Archie told him. “She’s a keeper.”
“She’s absolutely amazing, Jughead,” Betty smiled. Jughead grinned and shook his head.
“You guys, I told you-”
“Don’t even go there,” Veronica interrupted him. “That girl is absolutely perfect for
you. The way you two look at each other
is… it seems like it’s from a fairytale.
You two are soulmates,
“She does seem great, Jug,” Archie agreed with her. “I mean, I’ve never seen you like that with
anyone. No offense, Betty.”
“None taken, Archie,” she waved his comment off. “They’re right though, Jug. You never looked at me the way you look at
(Y/N).” Jughead couldn’t think of a
clever retort. “But be careful,
Jughead. Like (Y/N) said earlier, you
two only have two more weeks together.
If you haven’t done anything up to this point, you might want to
consider whether or not it’s worth it to start something now. Just ask yourself, is it worth the heartbreak
that’ll happen when you have to leave her?”
She pursed her lips as she watched Jughead’s face darken on her screen.
“Thanks guys,” he said halfheartedly. “Really, thank you. I’ll see you all in two weeks.”
Tell me something,
tell me something
You don’t know nothing, just pretend you do
Tell me something just before you go
“Our last day!” (Y/N) exclaimed, prancing into Jughead’s
hotel room. After the video call he had
two weeks ago ended, he decided to give her a key to his room. “Our internship is over, and we have one last
night to spend together, Jug. Out of
every place in all of New York City, where do you want to go, Jughead Jones?”
she asked seductively, a coy smirk growing on her face.
“I’m feeling burgers tonight,” Jughead answered, trying to
stop his expression from deflating. “And
then maybe we can get some cupcakes?”
“I like it!” she grinned.
She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the room, beginning the trek
to their favorite restaurant. “Jesus, I
can’t believe it’s been three months already.”
“I know,” he agreed. “It
seems like my plane landed just yesterday.”
“Yeah,” (Y/N) breathed.
They spent the rest of their walk in silence, choosing to listen to the
bustling New York traffic.
The waitresses at the restaurant, at this point, knew
Jughead and (Y/N) as regulars. They didn’t
even bother giving them menus, knowing exactly what each of them would order.
“You two are my favorites,” the waitress whispered as she
set their burgers in front of them.
“Thank you,” (Y/N) grinned.
“I’m sorry to say, but it’s our last day here.”
“Oh,” the waitress sighed.
“Well, you two better visit. I don’t
know what I’ll do without my favorite regulars.” She walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Jughead to
enjoy their burgers.
“You know,” Jughead noted through a mouth full of burger, “I
don’t know how you’ve tried almost every restaurant in New York City while
becoming a regular here.”
“Talent, Jug,” she told him, wiping her mouth on a
napkin. “It takes a hell of a lot of
They finished dinner and went to their favorite bakery to
get cupcakes. On their walk back to the
hotel, they fell into silence once again.
It wasn’t broken until they entered Jughead’s hotel room. By now, almost all of (Y/N)’s stuff ended up
in here. They found it easier, rather
than constantly having to switch back and forth between rooms to grab their
“So that was our last day,” (Y/N) claimed, flopping onto the
bed. Jughead stood by the bedside,
crossing his arms with an amused smile.
“Unfortunately, it was,” he nodded. He jumped next to her on the bed, earning a
shriek from (Y/N). He swallowed as he
stared at her, knowing what he had to tell her.
“Do you remember what you said to me on the first day we met?”
“That I know where to go for whatever you’re craving,” she
answered with a grin. Jughead laughed
and shook his head.
“No, the other thing.”
“I hope you’re not an asshole because we’re gonna be stuck
together all summer?” she offered. He
shook his head again.
“I called you quick-witted?”
“What is it?” (Y/N) demanded, sitting up so that she was
hovering over Jughead as he remained laying down.
“You told me that if we were together any longer than just
the summer, I might fall in love with you,” he explained, sitting up so that
they were face-to-face. (Y/N)’s grin
“Oh,” she murmured. “Yeah,
I did say that.”
“You were wrong,” Jughead said, trying to keep his voice
steady. He slowly grabbed her right
“Really?” she asked as her eyes followed Jughead’s hand.
“Betty told me to be careful,” he explained, “because we’re
not gonna be together that long. And she
was right. I mean, why would we risk an
immense amount of heartbreak just for the sake of a blissful few weeks
together?” When (Y/N) said nothing, he
continued. “So I figured I could just
suck it up and get through the rest of our time together and not say
anything. It was a good plan, but you…
you ruined it.”
“Sorry,” she quipped with a small smirk. Jughead lovingly rolled his eyes.
“No you’re not,” he laughed.
“You’re not sorry, and you shouldn’t be.
Within the three months we’ve spent together, I’ve grown closer to you
than I ever have with anyone else. Hell,
my ex-girlfriend said that we were great together.”
“Yeah,” he responded, grabbing her hands. “Jesus, (Y/N), I’m in love with you. I’m fucking in love with you, and it sucks. It sucks because I don’t know if I’m ever
gonna see you again. And this is gonna
cause so much heartbreak, for me at least, and maybe you too. I just… I can’t keep it from you
anymore. But I also think, deep down,
you already knew how I felt.” Tears
clouded (Y/N)’s eyes, and her lips quivered as she quickly enveloped Jughead in
“Fuck,” she whispered into his neck. “Fuck, of course I love you, Jughead.” He pulled himself out of her grip and stared
at her, stroking his hand across her cheek.
They both leaned in, pressing their foreheads against each other. Their lips ghosted over each other, only
“If I kiss you-”
“If you kiss me, everything is gonna go to shit, Jug,” she
interrupted him. He nodded but didn’t
pull away. They sat there like that on
his bed on a minute, (Y/N) sitting on Jughead’s lap with her arms around his
neck, foreheads touching and lips barely brushing.
The tension grew unbearable, so (Y/N) closed the gap and
pressed her lips against his, trying to express what she had been feeling for
the past three months.
Jughead, too, attempted to convey every pent up confession
he had, wishing that kisses could speak.
He wanted his hands, which were encircling her waist, to tell her how
she charmed him with her wit. He wanted
his eyes, which were closed with pleasure, to tell her how beautiful she was,
especially when she trudged into his hotel room at three in the morning. He wanted his lips, which were pressed
against hers, to tell her how much he loved her. He loved her, he loved her, and he wanted to
keep saying it for the rest of his life.
For the sake of oxygen, the two pulled apart. They kept their foreheads resting against
“Everything’s gone to shit,” (Y/N) whispered, and Jughead
burst out into laughter. (Y/N) followed
suit by giggling, and their still-entangled limbs caused them to fall onto the
bed so that (Y/N) was laying on top of Jughead.
This only caused the pair to laugh harder.
When their chuckles finally died down, (Y/N) climbed off
from on top of Jughead and laid next to him, resting her head on his
chest. She combed her hand through his
“I’m sorry that I fell in love with you,” Jughead
apologized, kissing the top of her head.
They were slowly falling asleep.
“Thank you for falling in love with me,” (Y/N) whispered,
eyes fluttering shut. “It may have all
gone to shit, but it was worth it.”
Oh, tell me something
I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Oh, tell me something I don’t already know
Jughead stepped off the plane and saw his dad and friends
standing at the gate, excitedly waiting for him. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t even bother
smiling. Immediately, everyone
While they were awaiting Jughead’s plane’s arrival, Betty,
Veronica, and Archie explained to the rest of the group about (Y/N). They told them about how Jughead spent three
months falling in love with this girl, and they explained that they had never
seen Jughead look so smitten before.
“How was New York, Jug?” FP asked, taking Jughead’s suitcase
from him. Jughead shrugged.
“It was nice.”
“Good food?” he questioned, trying to get his son to open
up. Jughead nodded tiredly.
“Yeah, food was great,” he replied monotonously.
“And the internship?”
“Helpful,” Jughead responded. “I think it’ll help me improve as a writer.”
“That’s good,” FP said, raking a hand through his hair. “You had another person with you, right?” FP noticed Jughead tense up at this.
“Yeah,” he answered quietly.
“Yeah, I had a counterpart.”
“What was she like?”
Jughead looked up at his dad.
“You already know who it is,” he replied, shaking his
head. “Who told you, Betty?” FP pursed his lips.
“Yeah, her and Archie and Veronica. But listen, Jug, you’re going to have your
heart broken countless other times. You’ll
get over this girl,” he attempted to comfort Jughead.
“Dad, she wasn’t just a girl,” he protested. “She was amazing and quick-witted, and I fell
in love with her and then everything went to shit. But the worst part is that it’s okay, because
she loved me too. She fucking loved me,
and I kissed her, and now I may never see her again.”
“Well if you loved her that much, you may see her again,” FP
shrugged. “Fate is a tricky thing, son,
but the universe seems to cooperate better if you love someone.”
“i hate you,” andrew said casually. he took a last long drag from his cigarette and flicked it off the roof. “you were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs.” “i’m not a hallucination,” neil said, nonplussed. “you are a pipe dream,” andrew said.
here it is, my first ever digital painting! pls go easy on me i know it has a million flaws i’m still learning i just had to paint these two bc i am andreil trash ok