walk and bike

I Believe In You, Bro

If there’s one thing Nursey doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to about living at Samwell, it’s having to drive places.  In New York, what isn’t in walking distance is in biking distance, what isn’t in biking distance is accessible by the subway, and everything outside of the subway isn’t really worth visiting. Samwell, however, is sort of in the middle of nowhere.  Dex and Bitty acted like it was some kind of urban center, just an hour out from Boston, but to Nursey, it was suburbia at best, and that required a car.

Nursey was thinking about all this because he was currently gripping the wheel of his seven year old Hyundai Sonata, weaving his way through the roads that surrounded Samwell’s campus, searching for a lost frog. He really hated driving, but Whiskey had called him at midnight and told him about how one of the newest team members had apparently left the Haus halfway through the annual start of the season kegster and no-one had seen him since.  Nursey had called the guy four times, and it kept going straight to voicemail, so either his phone was dead, or he didn’t want to talk.  Unfortunately for him, Nursey wasn’t the kind of captain who let his players stew in their emotions.  He knew better than that.

It was close to 1 AM when Nursey finally pulled onto the gravel road leading to the lakefront.  The water was still, a cool black mirror that reflected the stars, the firebugs, and the boy sitting at the edge of the lake’s pier. He didn’t move at all when he heard the car pull up, just kept staring out into the distance, across the lake.  His feet didn’t quite touch the surface of the water. He had put his shoes and socks back at the place where the pier met the road, where Nursey stood, pulling off his sandals and walking softly to the edge. The new guy took a deep breath when Nursey sat down.  He could hear it rattle.

“How’d you find me?”

Nursey looked up at the moon.  It hung heavy over the lake, a warm yellow color that gave the night a comforting sort of glow.  He looked at the boy next to him, probably barely 18 and out of the house for the first time, scared stiff and not sure what to do outside of act tough and, apparently, run away if things got overwhelming.

“I went to your dorm first.  Your roommate let me in, told me he didn’t know where you were.  I saw a picture, though.  Of you out on a lake, holding a fish.  I figured this was as good a bet as any.”

The frog exhaled and looked down at the lake.  His hands were still shaking, and Nursey could tell that his eyes were getting wet. A breeze was coming off the lake, and it ruffled its way through their hair.  Nursey didn’t say anything.  It wasn’t him who needed to talk right now.  

“Back on my old team, everyone called me Jones.”

Nursey just looked at him.  

“Some of the guys-Will and Chris?-were talking about nicknames, and one of them, the one with the Sharks hoodie, asked me what mine was. It was Jones, but like, I really fucking hate that name.”

His hand was still shaking, Nursey pulled his legs up from where they were dangling off the pier and turned to face the frog completely. His eyes were more than just wet now, he was crying, no holds barred, and Nursey was torn between not wanting to see his teammate hurting, and knowing that crying was good sometimes, that this guy needed to let whatever it was that made him run so far away off his chest.

“I just-fuck, listen, I know it sounds stupid, but I’m a shitty hockey player, and that’s why my nickname was Jones, because that’s average, and that’s all I am at best, and being at that party with Jack fucking Zimmerman and Justin Oluransi, who’s like, the best defensive player that the Sharks ever had, and even you, you’re the captain, you’re one of the best players in college hockey PERIOD and I’m just some random guy from Minnesota who doesn’t even deserve to be here, on this team, with so many people who’re practically icons-”

Not-Jones broke off them, voice cracking in frustration. He stared angrily at the lake, tears streaming down his face, trying to keep from sobbing.  

“Your name is Karam, right? Karam Hashmat, Number 37, from West Hill, Minnesota?”

Karam looked up at Nursey defensively, face flushed. Nursey could see the dark circles under his eyes, and he felt the familiar pang of worry for this kid.  The hardest part of being a captain, for Nursey, was realizing he couldn’t fix everyone’s problems, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.

“Okay, Karam, first things first? No-one is going to call you a name you hate.  We’re a team, and we can’t be that if we’re also being dicks to each other.Second, I’ve been playing hockey since I was a kid. I’ve played with Jack and Justin and Eric Bittle and fuck, Chris Chow, the guy in the Sharks hoodie? Give him two years and he’ll be dominating the NHL, he’s the best goalie that this sport’s ever seen, and I’d bet my life on that.”

“Is this supposed to be helpful?”

Nursey gave Karam a small nudge with his shoulder, smiled at him gently.

“Yeah, bro. Give me a sec, I’m getting there.  My point is, I’ve seen some great players in my day. I can tell who’s great, and who’s bad, and who’s average. Coach showed me your tapes, Karam.  We need a center who’s great, because Whiskey is a badass but he won’t be here forever, and I think you can be that guy.  Fuck what anyone else says, I can tell who can do this.  Everything, your stats, your tapes, your drive in practice, none of that is average, and it sure as fuck isn’t bad.”

He looked at Karam earnestly.

“Dude, I believe in you.”

Karam glanced up at Nursey, tears still coming, but slower now, with less urgency.

“Do you mean that, Captain?”

Nursey grinned, and stood up.  He put out his hand for Karam.

“100% my man.  Now lets get back to the Haus, you can crash on the couch and make Bittle cry before he goes home to Providence.”

Karam laughed, and grabbed Nursey’s hand to help pull himself up. Nursey slung his arm around Karam’s shoulder as they walked back to their cars, the moon still softly glowing in the night sky behind them. 

anonymous asked:

hello kylie~~ I feel so bad these past weeks.. I have a lot of free time and I feel like I'm totally wasting it :(( I really don't have anything to do & I don't really have any hobbies like sports or an instrument or anything. Could you recommend me anything that could be interesting to get into?

haha this is a very tough question and i feel like it’s so difficult to recommend hobbies for other people. here are some ideas tho!

  • paper crafts, like scrapbooking or origami
  • journaling 
  • going for walks or bike rides 
  • learning a new language (there are probably a ton of language bloggers in the studyblr community for whatever language you’re interested in)
  • reading
  • drawing
  • listening to podcasts 
  • baking (i recently discovered korean baking channels and i’m itching to bake flkajsda)
  • simple home DIYs to brighten up your room (tangent but- i always see DIY videos with slimes and i really wanna try it omg)

Someone please have my dad arrested he is walking around the house in bike clothes repeatedly asking me if I like “das Techno” in a distinctly French-accented Falco voice

Places where reality is a bit altered:

• any target
• churches in texas
• abandoned 7/11’s
• your bedroom at 5 am
• hospitals at midnight
• warehouses that smell like dust
• lighthouses with lights that don’t work anymore
• empty parking lots
• ponds and lakes in suburban neighborhoods
• rooftops in the early morning
• inside a dark cabinet

• playgrounds at night
• rest stops on highways
• deep in the mountains

• early in the morning wherever it’s just snowed
• trails by the highway just out of earshot of traffic
• schools during breaks
• those little beaches right next to ferry docks
• bowling alleys

• unfamiliar McDonalds’s on long road trips
• your friends living room once everybody but you is asleep
• laundromats at midnight

• galeries in art museums that are empty except for you
• the lighting section of home depot
• stairwells
• hospital waiting rooms
• airports from midnight to 7am
• bathrooms in small concert venues

• cemeteries
• abandoned penitentiaries
• hilltops at night in full moonlight
• most of Japan
• empty barns
• marshes
• really anywhere quiet at midnight, the air vibrates
• old stones and henge
• the ocean when it’s still quiet with fog over it
• train tracks that go through the middle of the woods
• bridges
• ancient places
• stands of old growth forest
• the Eastern Sierras/high desert

• rabbit paths off hiking tails
• trails between the main ski hills
• winter twilight
• back allies between houses
• logging roads
• dirt roads on fall evenings with leaves falling off the trees
• libraries before closing
• anyplace where it’s snowing before sunrise
• the woods during a rainstorm

• roads covered with snow with trees on the sideways while snowflakes are falling out of the sky
• train stations after 10 PM
• outside, right before a massive storm
• the woods just after twilight
• the beach in winter
• the bottom of swimming pools
• empty beaches when its snowing

• back part of a library
• late night empty streets
• highways late at night
• windy roads
• windy roads at night when you can only see the immediate road
• abandoned parking lots (office buildings, homes)
• anywhere immediately after a really bad fight
• little towns late at night when no ones awake and the only lights on are the street posts

• empty buses before sunrise/after sunset
• being the only one outside in the early morning when its almost dark and you feel alone on earth
• mountains with a big forest close to it
• being alone in a spot in ikea
• the lakeside anytime between 2 and 6 am
• firework shows when you’re sitting on the grass
• staring up at very tall buildings
• the tram at a big airport
• abandoned house by a lake

• being the only one downstairs on christmas  
• stepping outside in the early morning when it has just snowed
• when its dark and you see snowflakes falling down in the light of a lamppost on the lonely road
• that one clear spot in the forest with trees surrounding it
• a parked car in a snow/thunderstorm
• corn fields with the wind blowing over them
• malls when they’re about to close for the night
• woods at twilight/dawn
• being on a train after midnight
• theme parks at night

• winding back roads with rolling fog
• seeing “open” signs when its really foggy and cloudy
• being in a train that was crowded when you got in and now its quiet, looking at the seats knowing that there were people sitting there moments ago and now they’re gone
• hiking trails that have nobody on them
• being alone in an elevator for a few minutes
• looking down at the forest when you’re standing somewhere high and seeing the top of the trees with fog lingering over them
• the ferry about to take off in the middle of the night
• tree houses
• empty seats on the late night train
• 4-6 am on a winter morning

• the clouds/damp coming out of your mouth when its really cold in the morning
• stepping out on an unfamiliar metro/train stop
• greenhouses that have been left to grow alone
• cemeteries in the middle of fields
• biking/walking on the main road when its dark without cars
• swamps with fog
• hotel corridors in the middle of the night
• anywhere where you can hear a train whistle in the distance but you can’t see it or know just how far away it is
• foggy mornings in a meadow
• that flickering streetlight
• working offices at midnight

• abandoned amusement parks
• mirrors in an airplane bathroom
• being alone in a church
• empty hotel lobbies
• hearing trains off in the distance especially at night
• snow falling down in general
• being in a place thats supposed to have a lot of people but it doesn’t
• long, dark hallways
• the middle of a park when its snowing
• playgrounds at night
• work/school when you’re snowed in
• caves
• a field of power lines
• being in a forest where there are train tracks not knowing if the train may even ever approach
• bonfires

• being in a different room than everyone else at a party
• the woods on a night with a full moon
• empty stables
• empty metro stations that are usually crowded
• gas stations on long mountain roads
• the old part of a city when you’re the only one in the street
• stadiums when a game or concert is over
• entering a building with a really high ceiling
• moonlight, anywhere

• empty tennis or baseball courts with limited lightning
• times when you are transitioning from one phase to another
• lodges in the snow
• frozen water in the winter
• a little lake in the middle of the forest
• campus during summer
• family gatherings
• construction site after works have gone home
• leaving a tent at midnight
• lonely swings
• overgrown fields
• from twilight to dusk
• farmland thats covered in the morning fog
• suburban neighborhoods filled with tension and wind before a large summer thunderstorm
• being at an abandoned place knowing that years ago at that exact same moment there were people
• the feeling of being chased by someone/something
• knowing you’re not alone in a certain place like a forest

this feeling is scary as FUCK it dawns upon you that something is so quiet or abandoned or empty and vacant that its like the universe forgot to make something happen in the one spotlike you found a glitch in real life like everything seems fake and unreal and real and not fake all at one and youre so confused

Things I associate with the houses:

(based on my closest friends)

Slytherin – David Bowie on full blast, either has all the sugar or none in their coffee, perfectly messy hair, cuts up their clothes on a whim, pin badges in denim jackets, a cigarette in a trembling hand, a graveyard at night, the feeling of vodka burning your throat, Halloween, paranormal youtube videos, does tarot with a normal card deck, jager bombs that are more jager than red bull.

Ravenclaw – animal rights activism, ridiculously thoughtful gifts, learning new languages for fun, horror movies at 1am, hope, paint smudges, forgotten tea that’s gone cold, meeting your idols, writing your own songs, political t-shirts, walking next to your bike so you can talk to your friends, pouring skittles into vodka.

Hufflepuff – hot chocolate, drunk tears, feeling festive in September, Pancake Day, cheesy music, soft colours, scuffed boots, permanently covered in animal fur, sweets, faded skinny jeans and plaid shirts, flour in their hair, saves empty bottles cause they look nice.

Gryffindor – leg-ups, arm wrestles, playful teasing, undercuts, the smell of gingerbread, eating so much takeaway you could burst, Bon Jovi, pretending not to be a lightweight, electric guitar, “is that a dare?”, heavy docs, late nights, climbing through windows cause you forgot your key, one leather jacket for all occasions.

okay, i’m just putting this out here because it needs to be said and i’m sick of letting the bullshit train continue when i could help stop - or at least bring attention to - it. i have a friend who is diplegic and therefore uses a manual chair (her twin was also quadriplegic and in a motorized chair) and when we watch movies with wheelchairs in them, we like to critique the designs.

do you know why mcavoy couldn’t/can’t drive his motorized wheelchair? BECAUSE THE FUCKING WHEELS ARE ON THE WRONG WAY. HANK MCCOY, WHO IS SUPPOSEDLY A “GENIUS”, DESIGNED THE WHEELCHAIR SO THE BIG WHEELS ARE ON THE FRONT AND THE SMALL WHEELS ARE ON THE BACK.

LOOK!

LOOK AT THIS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT. DO YOU KNOW WHY HE CAN’T DRIVE IT? THE SMALL WHEELS ARE AT THE FRONT BECAUSE THEY ARE SMALL AND THEREFORE ALLOW FOR LOTS OF FINE CONTROL, AND THE BIG WHEELS ARE AT THE BACK BECAUSE THEY OFFER POWER. WHEN THE BIG WHEELS ARE ON THE FRONT IT IS SO DIFFICULT TO CONTROL WHERE YOU ARE GOING. IT’S LIKE WHEN YOU WALK BACKWARDS ON A BIKE AND TRY TO STEER STILL WITH THE HANDLEBARS. I SAT BACKWARDS ON MY FRIEND’S MANUAL CHAIR AND TRIED TO WHEEL MYSELF. IT WAS LIKE COMPLETELY REWIRING MY MOTOR SKILLS EVERY SECOND I WAS MOVING. IT. IS. BULLSHIT. AND ALL OF CHARLES’ CHAIRS ARE LIKE THIS!!! HANK!!!!! WTF!!!!!!!

ALSO. Charles would have THE WORST backpain from that stiff-ass unnecessary fuckin metal backrest that goes all the way up. YOU KNOW HOW PEOPLE’S BACKS GET UNCOMFORTABLE WHEN SITTING FOR HOURS ON A LONG PLANE OR CAR RIDE???? YOU KNOW THAT FEELING??? THAT FEELING IS THIS CHARLES’ LIFE, OKAY. HIS BACK HAS TO BE UNNATURALLY STRAIGHT ALL THE TIME. THIS CRITIQUE IS TAKEN FROM MY FRIEND’S EXPERIENCE BECAUSE SHE ALSO HAS A HARD BACK CHAIR AND HAS BEEN TOLD SHE’S GOING TO HAVE AWFUL BACK AND SHOULDER PROBLEMS BECAUSE OF IT. YET HARD BACKS ARE STANDARD AND SLING BACKS - LIKE THE ONE I’M GOING TO SHOW YOU IN A SECOND - ARE NOT! THIS IS BECAUSE THE WHEELCHAIR-GETTING SYSTEM IS COMPLETELY BROKEN AND IT’S SOMETHING YOU SHOULD REALLY CARE ABOUT BUT IT IS A RANT FOR ANOTHER DAY). THE POINT IS, CHARLES’ BACK IS ONE HURTIN’ UNIT IN THIS CHAIR I GUARANTEE YOU. HE OBVIOUSLY DOESN’T NEED IT FOR TRUNK CONTROL. HE HAS AMAZINGLY FREE RANGE OF MOVEMENT ABOVE HIS HIPS. THIS CHAIR IS  B U L L S H I T. HE CAN’T DRIVE, HE CAN’T SIT UP IN A COMFORTABLE WAY. POOR BABY IS H U R T I N G  but right, Hank’s ~~a genius~~

In contrast, look at this chair!

Look at those tiny-ass wheels on the front! The user of this could spin ON A DIME. It’s Nice as Fuck. Look at that back. (Okay I’m not 1000% certain it’s a slingback) but it doesn’t go all the way up the user’s back! That’s some free-range-of-movement-let-your-spine-do-almost-anything-it-wants-shit right there. Since Charles pretty clearly has full use of his trunk in the movies, this would make much more sense. Also, Ann (friend) and I really don’t see why he would want an electric wheelchair when he clearly could have a manual one that allows for even more control. 

AND OKAY, all wheelchairs should be specific to their users. Some people need more back support. In Ann’s quadriplegic brother’s chair there was a neck brace and little wing things on the side that came out and clamped around his body. Some people’s foot rests need to go out like Charles’ does (whether or not he requires this is kind of foggy, espc. since the overall design is so. asinine.). Some need their footrests to be more in like the orange chair. Some people get tilted wheels, some people don’t. (Also the process for deciding this is bullshit - on government insurance they will only build your chair with the assumption that you will never leave your house and therefore it’s almost impossible to get ‘add ons’ like sling backs and tilted wheels and under-the-seat brakes WHICH SHOULD BE STANDARD, AGAIN, BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T HAVE THEM YOU COULD HAVE MORE MEDICAL ISSUES DOWN THE ROAD OMG THIS SYSTEM IS SO BROKEN). 

But I think we can ALL fucking agree that your wheels should go on the goddamn correct way so you can, you know, steer. And that maybe your chair should be designed more like a mobility assistance device than a fucking 1860′s gentleman’s club wingback for no goddamn earthly reason.

SHIT this stuff gets me riled up.

1. your middle school best friend, the one you share all your laughs with and can’t imagine not being friends with, will only be a familiar face that you’ll share a smile with across the room during high school graduation

2. popularity doesn’t matter. at all. be nice to everyone, don’t be stuck up in who you talk to, stay down to earth. high school isn’t just about climbing to the top and building contacts. one day you’re going to look back and wonder who your true friends were and what motives others had in gaining your friendship. take the time to get to know those who you normally wouldn’t, and you’ll be very surprised

3. the loneliness you feel right now is not permanent. there will be a moment, maybe months or years from now, where you will feel this overwhelming warmness, and you will look around at the people surrounding you and think, hey maybe all that sadness and loneliness was worth getting to this point. and you will smile and everything will be ok

4. don’t get sucked into the “I’m too cool to study” phase. stop glorifying netflix, going to sleep late, and barely getting your work done. find your motivation and don’t let anyone hold you back. there will be kids at school who will love to brag “I didn’t study for this test” and “oh dude I stayed up till 1am last night.” I promise that doesn’t make them cool or bad ass. in fact, most people who claim they haven’t cracked a book open, have actually studied more than you think. hold your own, be productive. you don’t want to look back on a test, a quarter, a semester, a year and think “damn, I wish I had done more.” give it your all and you will reap the benefits

5. don’t lose your spontaneity - don’t get sucked into the same rigid routine. regularity is great but you can’t lose your spark. it will crush you, years down the line, when you realize you’ve forgotten what it’s like to do something without overly planning it, without worrying about homework, without a million other items on your to-do list creeping into the back of your mind

6. when you’re having a shitty night, just go to sleep. seriously turn your phone off, close the computer, and get into bed. I promise that is the only solution.

7. when someone invites you to plans, always say yes. even if you’re exhausted, curled up watching a movie in pajamas. even if you feel like you want some alone time, or if you don’t feel 100 percent comfortable in the social situation (not in a dangerous way but a meeting new people way) - say yes. you won’t regret the experiences.

8. make yourself painfully aware of the compartmentalized characteristics and cookie-cutter personas you put on and that others put on. be conscious of the characters the media has ingrained in our society, and remind yourself that being the “cool girl” doesn’t mean drinking beer and eating burgers and letting guys step all over you so you can seem chill. reading and writing doesn’t make you “nerdy” just like playing sports doesn’t make you cool. these are associations we have been taught by movie scripts and novels. you don’t have to be one thing or the other - you can wake up early one morning, make yourself a smoothie, and be that “yoga” girl. then the next day you can stay out all night and live recklessly. you don’t have to feel like you need to fit into a persona

9. not everyone will like you, and that’s okay. stop trying to please everyone - it’s impossible. radiate confidence - even if it’s fake confidence, eventually it will become real. once you can do this, you will be untouchable

10. it’s not weird to go places alone - you don’t always need to find a friend to enjoy yourself. go for a walk, a bike ride. read at a coffee shop, take yourself out to lunch, drive somewhere interesting. don’t spend your whole day in a big ole box - you are alive, you are full of life and energy and so much potential. use it, move around, feel restless and don’t settle for staying idle

—  advice for high schoolers (s-un-rise)
It’s a [Tinder] Date! (Part 3/3)

Summary: Thinking he needs to find a date, Natasha signs Steve up to Tinder. In Queens, Peter Parker does the same to you. It’s a match!

Word Count: 3,405

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: Almost a month later, but this fic is officially done :D I hope you all enjoy this fluffiness. 

Originally posted by mackievanstan


Work managed to distract you enough to not keep looking at the clock every five minutes. Despite part of your brain telling you that there was no way you had a date with Captain America, there was another part that couldn’t help but to hope this was true. And so, you found yourself daydreaming of showing up to the restaurant and seeing him there. What would you even say to him? What kind of greeting would you use? Would you address him as Captain, or maybe Mr. Rogers, or just Steve?

By the time you got home, you had a few outfit options in mind and made a beeline to the bathroom, taking a shower before you got started on getting ready.

Peter came around as you were choosing between four different outfits you had draped on your bed. He helped you picked the one that was form-fitting, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

“We gotta tease him,” he said.

Keep reading

Skulls and Roses ☠️🥀

JUNGKOOK - COLLEGE AU, TATTOOIST AU. 

The best way to get someone’s attention is to get a tattoo or hit someone with your motorcycle. 

PART TWO

Originally posted by sugutie

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” you sprint across the quad, pushing past students and jumping over bushes and benches like a track star doing hurdles. The chanting of the curse word only gets louder and faster once you looked down at your watch once again and saw that your class would start in less than a minute and you were a mile away from the science building.

You’re too distracted with staring at your watch that you don’t notice that you’re in the middle of the street until your face is touching the rough pavement and some random guy is sprawled beside you. At first, you think that it’s a boulder that had fallen from the mountains that surrounded your campus but when your vision focused on the black lump you realized it was a helmet.

Keep reading

“Don’t forget this was MERLE’s bike. And thank God it’s gone… it was the most unbalanced piece of shit I’ve ever Been on….. Norman Reedus was an absolute God to have agreed to ride this thing around as long as he did.” - Michael Rooker

“❤️u brother”- Norman Reedus

flickr

*** by Gabriela Tulian
Via Flickr:

Cinderella - Jughead Jones

Request: Hi honey ! <3 I love all your imagines, you are such a good writer ! I was wondering, if you could write Juggy imagine, something like Cinderella story, where the reader is shy and clumsy girl, who doesn’t go out much often because of her stepmother and her daughters, but one night, with Veronica and Betty help (two fairygodmathers haha) she go to a school party, where she met Jughead, but when she was leaving in hurry, she left something, and Juggy is determined to find her ?

This was like, the cutest prompt I’ve ever read and I just had to do it! Let me know if you want a part 2 :)

Jughead x Reader + Beronica because I’m trash

Warnings: - Swearing / abusive step-family :c - if you deal with these kind of issues, please tell someone. Anyone. You deserve so much more <3 

Words: - 4,849


Cinderella, that was pretty much you in a nutshell.

You walked along the side of the hallway, lurking. You managed to pass through to the high school exit, unnoticed by anyone. Not that you were ever noticed. You could turn into a flying monkey and still no attention would be paid to you.

Not that you cared. You were a selfless girl, kind and virtuous. To everyone else you were the shy girl without friends, too perfect and studious to need anyone. Inside, you were longing for someone to talk too, because nothing and nobody in Riverdale is ever perfect. There’s always a layer of cracked stone hidden beneath the perfectly painted exterior.

The reason you didn’t have many friends was because you never really got out much, besides school. You weren’t used to much social interaction and all your spare time was spent in the library, doing your homework. You couldn’t do it at home, because you had to take care of your stepmother who would often come home high or drunk. Your stepsisters would blame you, and you would have to clean up all of the mess and damage that they left behind or your step-mother would beat you.

That was always another reason why you never let anyone know. You were too selfless and paranoid to make a fuss, you didn’t want people worrying over you or thinking that you were just seeking their attention. You had the bruises and the scars to prove your claims, but in your mind speaking out would just make everything worse.

Still, through all that you had bared, you wore a smile on your face and tried to stay positive. It was all for your Mother’s sake. She had died in a car accident when you were 9 and it had left you traumatised. Sadly you didn’t have much time to recover as your Father followed just 4 years later thanks to cancer. Your Mum always used to tell you to look on the bright side of life, to be kind and show love. All you wanted was to make her proud.


As you walked out into the parking lot to fetch your bike, you saw a group of people crowded around the racks engaged in conversation. You walked up to them gingerly, your body spiked with nerves. This was, as dubbed by Cheryl Blossom, the Sad Breakfast Club. You’d always admired them from afar. 

Archie Andrews was talented, in both music and sports. Betty Cooper was the typical girl next door, good grades and a strong mind. Kevin Keller was too fabulous for words, and you adored his confidence. Veronica Lodge was a powerful feminist, who stood up for herself, as well as standing up for her friends and fellow females. Then, there was Jughead Jones. You’d partnered up with him once in English class. He had a way with words, and you couldn’t help but ask him about his novel. His eyes had lit up with passion, a passion that didn’t die for the whole time the two of you conversed. His friends had been surprised at how talkative he was to you, how excited he was that you seemed to understand and respect his novel.

It felt great to finally have someone to talk to, about normal things. However, after that encounter you hadn’t really spoken to him, although he would sometimes acknowledge you with a small smile and a nod when you passed him in the hallway. You didn’t have the courage to interact with him more than you already did. Besides, you saw the look in his eyes. It was indescribable. The same look that clouded over your eyes daily, a look that nobody except those who possessed it would be able to see. The look of helplessness, that behind whatever perfect or basic exterior you had built up, was layered with secrets and scandal. You didn’t want to present yourself as another burden in his life when, without even talking to him properly, you could just tell he wasn’t going through the best of times.

You could hear that they were talking about Cheryl Blossom’s upcoming party. The party of the century. A masked party. Considering your status, you hadn’t received an invite so you weren’t going. The idea of taking on a whole new identity, the ability to let yourself loose without having to worry about how people saw you. It was thrilling, and sent anticipation and excitement coursing through your veins. How you would love to confidently dance at a party, socialise, do things that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) just wouldn’t do… couldn’t do. For once, after all the things you gave to the world, maybe taking something in return and having your fifteen minutes of fame was all you needed. 

Your daydreaming meant that you hadn’t been paying precise attention to where you were walking, and found yourself stumbling over a collection of bikes which had been carelessly placed in the middle of the pavement as there was no more space on the bike racks. Your felt your cheeks tint red with embarrassment as you collected the spilled contents of your bag, which you had forgotten to close. It was cliche and awkward, and what made it worse was that the SBC was right in front of you watching. They got down to help you pick stuff up and you muttered your thanks to each of them, keeping your head down. You felt someone touch your arm, and naturally you immediately leapt onto your feet away from the contact, jerking the touch away from you. Your eyes were wide and your heart was thumping. You were so skittish thanks to past trauma, and you felt your cheeks get redder as you realised it had only been a reassuring gesture from Jughead.

He was staring at you, bewildered, as he slowly walked closer and gave you your pencil case, one of the items that had fallen from your bag.

“Are you okay? -” He paused, as if trying to remember your name, not that you’d ever told him. He probably expected you to just give it to him there and then but you wanted to escape the awkward confrontation as quickly as possible. You weren’t sure why because to be honest, you would always prefer to be anywhere in the world that wasn’t home. However, if you got home late, you would just be making it worse for yourself.

“Yes, thank you. All of you,” You put on that charming smile of yours, before pulling out your vintage bike, which you had salvaged from a local junkyard. You’d manage to acquire mint green spray paint and the materials to make a small woven basket for the front, and the result wasn’t half bad. It wasn’t exactly the flashy modern bikes that lit up when they move, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. Finding the time to work for yourself was rewarding in its own sense.

You knew eyes were on you, something that you weren’t exactly used to, so you tried to get out of sight, as you rode down the street, as quickly as possible. You didn’t realise the curious spark mixed in with the helplessness in Jughead’s eyes, and you didn’t realise the suspicious glances that were exchanged between Betty and Veronica.


Home sweet home.

Home is where you feel safe, most wanted and most loved.

Your home was anything but sweet, and you felt like you were living in fear, that the hate your ‘family’ had for you was all you had going for your life.

You walked your bike up to the shed at the side of your house. It was infested with spiders and mice, and if your step-mother was in a particularly awful mood, the thickly coated, dusty floors would be your bed for the night. Lucifer, your step mother’s cat was perched on the door step. His name seemed appropriate considering his demonic demeanour and frequent attempts to claw your limbs out. His gaze followed you as you entered the house. 

Empty or smashed beer bottles clogged up the hallway, and you practically went en pointe to try and avoid the thick shards of glass that coated your path. You couldn’t hear the blaring noise of the TV, or the throwing of items coming from upstairs. This meant, it was one of those days where your stepmom went out the night before, drove to the next town over, got drunk and high and then proceeded to have a one night stand with some poor man. She wouldn’t be home until very late the following evening, and you couldn’t help but breathe out a soft sight of relief.


You had just gotten out of the shower, preparing to start on clearing up the glass when you heard the front door slam, followed by two whingey voices. Your step-sisters, Drew and Anna. Whereas your stepmom had physical abuse covered, your step-sisters preferred to hurt you verbally, to mock you and tease you, belittle you and reduce you to nothing but their own personal slave.

“(Y/N)!” You heard a screech from below your feet and you cringed inwardly, as you pulled on your comfort clothes. You knew you should have cleaned up first, but you just felt so stressed and uncomfortable from your fall earlier. Not that your own concerns were the priority in this household.

“(Y/N)!” Two simultaneous yells this time, sounding frustrated. The longer it took, the worse it would get, the more material they had to hurt you with. You hurriedly raced downstairs to their aid.

“Drew, Anna, how was your day?” You put on the nicest smile and sweetest voice you could muster. Anyone else would have snapped back at these sisters by this point, but you were an empathetic person and knew that deep down, these girls were suffering from their broken family just as much as you were. They just coped with it differently.

“Took you long enough, anyways, Cheryl invited us to her party and we need you to do our makeup like the… good sister that you are,” Anna gave a sickly sweet smirk. Your stepsisters had been sucking up to Cheryl for weeks in order to be invited to this party, and knew that you wouldn’t be going.

“She’s picking us up in her limo in about 2 hours, so hurry up. And don’t make further plans, you’re going to have to clean everything up before Mum gets home afterwards or she’ll kill you,” Drew snickered and Anna scoffed.

“Please Drew, we’re not that lucky.” The two sisters pushed past you, before walking up the stairs to their room. You felt your sensitivity levels topple over slightly, that remark was just a bit too far.


Somehow, you managed to slightly bond with your sisters over the makeup process. You tried things out on Drew, Anna would occasionally compliment how nice she looked and ask if you could do the same thing when it came to her. You almost felt like normal sisters. Until you were done. It could never last long could it? You just weren’t good enough.

Drew and Anna were wearing flamboyant dresses, with masks to matched. Their heels were higher than you thought was actually possible. As the two made their own final preparations, you were busy doing your own makeup and had laid out a pastel pink dress to wear. The dress was your mother’s, and you had managed to find it at the back of your closet from when you used to try and dress up in her clothes when you were younger. You wanted to go to this party. Why not? After all, you did everything for everyone else. For the first time, you deserved a little something back. Besides, you were sure Anna and Drew wouldn’t care, after all you had gotten on so well when you were doing their makeup. Well, better than usual at least. That had to mean something.

Cheryl wanted the party to be huge, so you were sure she wouldn’t mind if you tagged along with your sisters. It wasn’t as if you actually had any issues or rivalry with Cheryl, you just didn’t talk to her. You wouldn’t be surprised if your sisters had actually told people that they didn’t have any more siblings, and that you were just a loner only child.

You grabbed your ragged clutch, and made your way downstairs, after changing into the dress. You looked okay, but your mind was on the mask. You decided you were going to pick one up at the local costume shop on the way there, as you would travel on your bike rather than opting for the awkward journey in Cheryl’s limousine. 

You raced outside before Anna suddenly rushed up to you, shoving her iPhone into your hands.

“Ah! (Y/N) perfect, take a pic of me and Drew!” She exclaimed, before rushing back to Drew and posing, attempting to stick her chest out. You awkwardly tilted the camera to fit the both of them in it, before Anna raced back and snatched it off of you, flicking through the pictures you took. “Ugh this one’s blurry,” She muttered, as she paced back and forth.

“What are you wearing?” Drew bitterly scoffed as she circled you mockingly, like you were surrounded in shark infested waters. You suddenly felt intimidated as Anna’s attention snapped to you and she began to laugh and jeer at you.

“Goodness (Y/N), is that ugly piece of shit the best you could do?” She giggled uncontrollably and you felt tears crawl into your eyes.

“It was my mother’s” You whispered, not looking either of them in the eye.

“You keep dead people’s clothes? That’s weird, creepy, just like that Jughead kid,” Drew sighed, pulling on a loose lock of your hair. You jumped back from her and she rolled her eyes and scoffed at you.

“Wait… don’t tell me… that you thought you were coming to the party?” Anna stopped pacing, getting up close in your face and raising an eyebrow. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now.

“Well… I thought… m-maybe you would let me come with you? I just thought it was my turn to d-do something… for myself,” You stumbled clumsily, eyes trained to the ground. An awkward pause of silence skipped over you, before your stepsisters bursted into scathing hysterics. Pointing at you, taunting you. The tears freely flowed now. How could you be so stupid and naive to think somebody actually cared about you.

“You thought wrong you little bitch,” Anna’s voice sent chills down your spine as her tone turned menacing. She walked up to you, grabbed the frills of your dress and ripped them in two. You let out a strangled cry as Anna stepped back to admire her handy work. You fell to the ground, picking up the pieces that had come off of the dress and holding them close to your heart. You felt like Anna and Drew were destroying your whole world, taking it down brick by brick. When they learnt a weakness or a potential threat, they would eliminate it immediately.

You heard the clanging of metal, and turned your head to the left to see your bike which was being vandalised by Drew, who was madly hitting it with a large metal hammer. You crawled towards her, screaming at her to stop but Drew wouldn’t comply, not until the bike was damaged beyond repair.

One of the only things you’d ever been proud of, your spare time flushed down the drain in a matter of seconds. You stood up and bravely faced your two stepsisters in the eye, who were observing the surrounding chaos with satisfied looks on their faces. A black limo pulled up on your driveway, and the two walked off, only stopping when they heard you yell.

“Why me? Please! What did I ever do to you? All I’ve ever done is be nice to you, why do you hate me?!” Your voice was raw from the crying. The stepsisters looked back at each other, trying to come up with a response.

“Because you ruined our lives,” Anna spat at you, before grabbing Drew’s hand and pulling her away, leaving you to stand there and sob. Your knees collapsed beneath you with grief.


You sat in your bedroom, trying to collect yourself. Your mothers dress was placed under your sewing machine which you would have to fix later. You had managed to clean up the rest of the house which had helped in taking your mind off of the party momentarily. However, you now sat on the edge of your bed, reflecting on what could have been.

Maybe you should have reached out to someone, anyone who would listen. Like Jughead…

You just wished you had your own fairy godmother right now.

Suddenly, you heard a knock at your front door. This was strange, as nobody ever came to this house except the milkman and the postman. Your sisters were too embarrassed to share their address or invite anyone round, as you would likely be there. If it was your stepmom, she wouldn’t knock. She would barge in the door, yelling and shouting. 

Cautiously, you opened the front door, peeking out into the night. You were surprised to see two girls, two girls you recognised. Veronica Lodge and Betty  Cooper, who were both wearing matching black and white dresses, with perfect makeup and sympathetic smiles on their gorgeous faces. 

“We saw the bike, saw your sisters and put two and two together,” Veronica sighed. You bit your lip, not sure what to say, but Veronica had practically invited herself in and enveloped you in a hug, followed by Betty. 

“You don’t have to tell us anything, but we won’t sit here and let them get away with ruining your night,” Betty smiled, brandishing a box. Inside the box was a makeup bag, a pair of white embellished platform shoes, a black and white halter neck dress with black lace on the top, and the best parts, the accessories. A split down the middle, black and white mask. The white side was embezzled in sequins and feathers, whereas the black side was decorated with white swirls and fake flowers. Intricate floral patterns danced around the edges of both sides of the mask. On top of this all was the most beautiful necklace you had ever seen. A silver chain attached to what looked like a jewel encrusted ring, lined with a gold rim. More tears appeared in your eyes.

“Sorry if none of it’s really you, it’s all we had,” Veronica laughed nervously but you jumped on the two girls with another hug, except tighter.

“You didn’t have to do this, it’s all so beautiful….” You felt yourself choke on your words. 

“Honestly it’s-” Veronica began,

“Nothing” Betty finished, linking her arm with Veronica affectionately as they giggled at one another. 

“Don’t let these people ruin your fun, you gotta go out there and get your man!” Veronica beamed, resting her head on Betty’s shoulder as Betty nodded encouragingly. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Betty and Veronica simultaneously rolled their eyes with a ‘tut tut’, exchanging glances.

“Jughead silly!” Betty spelt it out for you and you felt your face turn red all over again. “Yes! I knew it!” Betty exclaimed excitedly.

“I ship it!” Veronica and Betty squealed in a sing-song voice. You buried your face in your hands, but tried to laugh it off.

“I don’t even know if I can pull this stuff off guys. Honestly, it’s all so beautiful but it would probably look nicer on yo-” You began but the girls help up a finger in unison.

“Don’t even start with that crap. You are such a pretty, strong woman! You’ve been through all of this by yourself and you never even had to! You are going to own this party whether Cheryl Blossom gives a fuck or not,” Veronica retorted, and you grinned excitedly. 

The girls helped you redo your makeup, as you confided with them about your situation. It felt so good to get everything off your chest. They were so much more relatable than you expected and you honestly hoped that this wouldn’t be a one-off friendship. 

You were ready and dressed, hair done in a lace braid, necklace secured, feet comfy. All you needed now was to put your mask on. As you slipped it over your head, you felt a surge of confidence and power. This was finally your night, and you were going to earn it. 

“Look at what we’ve created Ronnie,” Betty danced around your room with Veronica excitedly. Your sisters had left to help set up the party earlier, so it’s not like you guys were even late yet, and the others were very excited. Suddenly, you felt the nerves rush back. What if they couldn’t get you in? If Anna and Drew knew you were there they would personally skin you alive. Veronica noticed you tense and she crouched beside you, resting her chin on your shoulder and sighing.

“In this mirror, I see a beautiful, young, independent woman who is currently discovering herself. You deserve this night (Y/N), it’s not enough just to dream these kind of things, you gotta finally step out of your comfort zone and live it up!” She shook you playfully and you laughed. This was your chance.


The ride had been fun, Ronnie had her own limo which she had managed to secure for the evening and you had picked up Kevin Keller on the way there, who played a huge part in settling your nerves with his gay humour. 

Veronica, being an influential person had also managed to get you into the party and you hadn’t even seen Anna and Drew so far.

Turns out that being anti-social for so long wasn’t a good trait to have in massive social events like parties where everyone knew each other and had plans for the evening. You felt out of place, and everything you dreamt of had faded. It was intimidating, all these masks practically trying to outshine each other. You lost your new friends in the sea of people and hadn’t found them since. You had managed to gain a lot of attention during the night though, which you were not used to. 

You currently stood pressed against the wall, drinking the non-spiked punch and avoiding the dance floor. Suddenly, you made eye contact with someone else pressed agains the wall. Probably someone that you would recognise in a festival crowd. No matter where you were you could pick him out. His crystal blue eyes and distinctive grey beanie which would not go off for any event. His raven haired curly locks which stood up at the back of his neck.

Your night (Y/N)

Feeling a surge of confidence, you kicked off of the wall and stood by him instead.

“Do I know you?” He asked almost instantly. Obviously everyone knew it was him from the beanie, and nobody would voluntarily come stand by him, it just wasn’t a thing people did.

“Not yet,” You let out a small chuckle, surprised at yourself. Your voice was deeper, perhaps even seductive. You sounded powerful but your stomach was whirling with butterflies as the boy gave a moment of silence to take you in.

“How mysterious,” He smirked back. Jughead’s mask covered a very thin surface area around his eyes, and was simply pitch black and made out of card.  He clearly tried very hard. “Student at Riverdale?”

“Are we playing a guessing game now?” 

“I guess,” You couldn’t really tell from the flashing strobe lights and intense atmosphere but you swore you could have saw him blushing.

“Yes, I am a student at Riverdale,” your heart thumped. There were obviously tons of students at Riverdale but you couldn’t help but get this overwhelming feeling that he knew it was you. Maybe Jughead felt the same way? You bit your lip, thinking about how you just wanted to be at a comfortable home with this boy right now. Like his house, because your house was simply hell.

This boy practically was your home, he made you feel safe and wanted. Although he didn’t even know this was you right now, you were just there for entertainment as he had nobody to speak to. If he knew who you really were, he would have left a long time ago. 

No (Y/N), your night! Have some faith in yourself!

“Have we talked before?” Jughead asked again, you paused deciding how you wanted to word this so that it was truthful but not too obvious.

“I expect so,” You played it off and you heard him grunt, causing you to let out another hearty chuckle.

God he loved that chuckle. It reminded him of (Y/N)

Hmm.. (Y/N)

Jughead looked up at the mysterious, elegant beauty behind the mask. He thought of (Y/N) and how suddenly an idea popped into his head. But she was so shy… it was just his biased mind because he had a cr- no, it was worth the ask.

Suddenly a slow song played over the speaker, and people paired off onto the dance floor. The two of you stayed against the wall until you were the only two left. You’d love to dance, but there wasn’t much space left and you wanted to dance freely with flowing motions. Jughead practically read your mind, as he bravely took your hand and lead you out onto a balcony, before placing his hands on your waist as you wrapped yours around the back of his neck, leaning into him and taking in his gentle scent. 

You slowly moved side to side, resting against him, only properly moving when he would twirl you around gracefully. 

“Do we have classes together?” Jughead murmured. You nodded your head dazily and he chuckled at your sudden tired mood, spinning you again. He let out a hmm in mock thought, causing you to weakly giggle. “Have we been project partners before?” His voice got quieter and more gentle. You paused, the swaying slowing. “Yes” you whispered against his jacket, clutching it tightly in your hands.

From inside, you could hear the song coming to an end but undisturbed, the two of you continued to dance. A comfortable silence swept over you as he twirled you one last time before stopping, his mouth coming closer to your ear and you felt Jughead’s hot breath on your neck. 

“Do you like English class?” He whispered gently into your ear and you felt yourself tense. Suddenly the loud chiming of a clock from above you caused you to break apart with a jump. He didn’t make it obvious that he knew, but it was the skittishness that made it clear who his mystery girl was. Your heavy breathing, turned into breathy laughing with Jughead before suddenly your whole body went rigid and your face paled.

“What’s the time?” You whispered, your face struck with horror. 

“Midnight, that’s what the chimes are for,” Jughead moved closer, his hand reached up to cup your cheek but you stumbled back, your hand flying to clasp over your mouth. You were trying to hold back sobs of fright.

Your stepmom would be home. She would kill you if you weren’t there and you didn’t exactly mean figuratively. She would beat you until you’re bloody, skin you alive and then eat your flesh in front of your own rotting carcass. 

You muttered hurried apologies before racing towards the balcony door. You had to sneak back home somehow, you had to get away. This should have never have happened. People like you don’t deserve these special nights, these special people. Your heart was thumping out of your chest as the adrenalin pumped through your veins

You let out a yelp of pain as you realised your necklace was stuck in your hair. You ripped it out, not caring that it fell to the floor. You didn’t even bother to pick it up, kicking off you heels and chucking them at Veronica as you ran away from the dance floor, from the party, from the mansion… from Jughead.


“Got it,” Drew smirked nastily, as she hit the stop button on the recording of you. She’d filmed the last minute or so of your dance with Jughead and your sudden departure.

“Mom would totally believe she stole all of that crap, including the necklace. I mean she must have. There’s no way that street urchin can afford that shit,” Anna sighed, “Did she honestly think that someone like her would fit in here? We’ll show her,” She clicked her tongue in satisfaction, before dragging her sister with her out the door.

Little did they know that they weren’t the only ones snooping on conversations. 

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Jughead clasped the necklace in his right hand, Veronica and Betty standing angrily behind him. 


It’s 2am I’m so dead. This was kind of rushed, I’m so sorry <3

Let me know if you want part 2!
ALSSSOOO: thank you to @mrs-jughead-jones for being there whilst I wrote this and getting annoyed at Apple autocorrect with me.

@satanwithstardust helped approve the ideeaaa because she’s bae. 

Riverdale TAG LIST: @theselfishllama

Happy 80th birthday to the Golden Gate Bridge. On this day in 1937, this iconic bridge first opened. With towers extending 700 feet into the sky and over 100 feet beneath the San Francisco Bay, the bridge is an engineering marvel. In addition to driving, you can walk or bike the entire length of its 1.2-mile expanse, bounded on either side by spectacular scenery. Photo from Golden Gate National Recreation Area courtesy of Bruce Getty.

new things to try 

  • a new language 
  • painting or drawing 
  • a musical instrument
  • a new sport 
  • a different daily routine 
  • a different tv series 
  • walking or riding a bike instead of taking a car 
  • being nicer to people 
  • smiling and sharing more 
  • rearranging furniture in your room 
  • pursuing your dreams 
  • loving the little things 
  • staying positive no matter what 
  • going out of your comfort zone. It will be scary but you won’t regret it!