Caught in Fire

Multi-muse indie blog. Mains: Jughead, FP Jones, Tim Riggins. Open to requests. 18+ or fuck off. See muses/rules/about for more.

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Public service announcement:

I’ve been sick off and on for two weeks and subsisted mostly on vegetables and paletas. If you’ve not had a paleta, do yourself a favor and go to the freezer section of your grocery store (or, one better, your local Mexican market) and get them. They’re basically fruit popsicles and they make the world a place worth living in.

[tamascotchi-deactivated20190101]

i had a dream i put some mcdonalds french fries in my pocket and when i went to grab them and they had transformed into a box of marlboro cigarettes. nice fucking symbolism dream banksy i just wanted a snack

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caughtinfire:

FP had blanched when she’d said her age. I’d have figured twenty-one, twenty-two, maybe…not someone just a few years older than his pain-in-the-ass kid. What the hell was she doing on her own in Riverdale, anyway? He did his best to recover quickly, nodding as if yes, sure, of course she was nineteen…but then she leaned closer and there it was. No more “harmless” flirting, surface level tete-a-tete—now out in the open was the fact that she wanted him…and from the way he felt a surge of blood pool in his groin at her words, the way that his body seemed to already make a decision about what exactly to do about that before he’d had the opportunity to honestly think about it…he was in trouble. And then she was standing again and the spell was broken, almost as if he’d dreamed it up himself—he didn’t put it past his subconscious at this point; like her, it had been a goddamn while for him, too. He reached a hand up to his hair, twisting slightly in the chair to look at her handiwork, maybe a bit more discerning than usual because he felt a bit like a fish out of water at the moment. “I, uh—looks great, Montana, always do a great job,” he said quickly, waiting for her to undo his apron before he reached in his back pocket for his worn leather wallet. “I’ll have to come see you…” he said, counting bills, then realizing his words were hanging in the air, “…about that tattoo.”

It would have been easy to take his money and send him on his way, but Montana couldn’t help the fact that she was genuinely excited and more than a little turned on at the prospect of seeing him outside of the salon.  That’s why she took the time to write down her number as he counted out bills, so when he paid, she could slip him the small card she’d put her digits on.  “Call or text whenever you want… though I get off in an hour if you had some time tonight,” she offered.  “You could get me off again,” she teased, unable to stifle her giggle because sometimes she had the mentality of a twelve year old.  She blamed her mother for that, Indiana Kane had always been a bit of a free spirit.

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FP took the card from her, brows raised and mind whirling because, fuck, he had no excuse now. He had her number. If he had been able to write of the banter from before, the innuendo, the flirting as a product of two people trying to pass the time, two people embracing the tension who would go on their respective ways after the job was done...he certainly couldn’t do that now. FP briefly remembered a lecture that had been given to him in high school on impulse control—“just because you can do something doesn’t mean you have to, Jones”—before he shook his head, his eyes meeting Montana’s. “There’s a bar on the other side of the river, just beyond the overpass. I’ll buy you a drink, you can draw up that tattoo of mine on a cocktail napkin,” he said with a half grin.

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When I saw this on my dash I thought “damn, I wish I got tagged in these things” and then I read Beth’s and saw she tagged me soooooo congratulations, I’m officially your biggest fan.

name: Call me G or Gale.

star sign: Scorpio.

height: 5’11.

Put your music player on shuffle, what are the first six (6) songs that popped up?:

I shuffled my biggest playlist on Apple Music and this is what happened:

1 “Stay,” Mac Miller

2 “Cleopatra,” The Lumineers

3 “Somewhere in the Mountains,” Tallest Man on Earth

4 “Bat Out of Hell,” Meat Loaf

5 “Moments Passed,” Dermot Kennedy

6 “Honest Wage,” Penny and Sparrow.

ever had a poem or song written about you?: In a previous life I wanted to be a poet and I was seeing someone who was also a poet so yes. It was deeply unflattering.

when was the last time you played air guitar?: Air drums only.

who is your celebrity crush?: Kristen Stewart.

what’s a sound you hate and a sound you love?: I hate when people leave their sound on and their keyboard clicks when they’re texting. I love rain.

do you believe in ghosts?: Nah.

what about aliens?: No fucking clue.

do you drive?: Yep. Got me a Prius because I’m liberal trash.

what was the last book you read?: Currently rereading “In Cold Blood” by Truman Capote.

what was the last movie you saw?: It’s been a while. I think it was “A Strange Man” on Netflix. I just finished watching “The Sinner” which is a TV show but it’s pure fucking gold.

what’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: I broke my collarbone in high school and that was a bitch.

do you have any obsessions right now?: I can’t ever get enough of being in my hammock. Also having a moment with cold brew. Forever obsessed with beer, especially sours.

do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?: Ehh not really. Kinda a live and let live kinda person. Forgive but don’t forget.

rules: It used to say “tag ten followers!” but listen here, motherfucker, Imma tag who I want.

tagged by: The fantastic @perfectioncursed.

tagging: @smallestjones, actual love of my life @treasureslowlyfaded, and @tastemysiin.

[tagtraumerin]

[tastemysiin]

caughtinfire:

“Figured we’d give your ol’ man a break—being behind bars is bad enough, trust me…knowing your kid is coming to see you, having to talk to ‘em through plate glass with a telephone receiver, that’s something else. Might as well shock him when he’s got fresh air to breathe than leave him to stew over a twenty-year reunion alone in a cell, that’s my thought at least. Just had to bribe Penny, money is the only language she’s really ever understood.”

He took a long sip of his beer then glanced over to Jughead as she spoke, watching him look at Betty like she’d hung the stars. “He’s a better kid than I was at his age—me and Alice were like fire and gasoline, constantly screaming at each other and…” he paused, laughing under his breath, “…making up. Betty keeps Jug on his toes, keeps him from going all dark like I did, like Alice would’ve if she hadn’t started going steady with Hal. She’s a sore thumb, sure, but the girl’s earned her stripes around here, she’s shown her loyalty. Nobody’ll have a bad word to say against her, not unless they wanna meet the knuckle-end of Jug’s arm. Anyway, you don’t stick out so much—keeping quiet and to yourself, that’s blended you in plenty.”

FP snorted, then pointed at her. “Oy, you listen here—no tattoos, definitely no serpent tattoo. He’ll end up putting himself back in jail over it if he knew I gave you the idea. S’not to say he’d necessarily be opposed to you joining up—reckon every man here’d be proud to see their snot-nosed kid join the brotherhood. We’re all here for a purpose, after all. That said, shit’s not been the best ‘round here lately, I’m sure you’ve heard the gossip—murders and brawls with some of the Riverdale High jocks. Think it’s all calmed down for the most part, but you never know…anyway, better not put him in his grave early, Anorah,” FP said with a smirk. At her words he grabbed the plastic ring of a six pack (only one beer was missing) and stood, grunting and stretching a little before he nodding toward the lake, pausing to take a sip before he spoke. “Moon’s out. Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t fall in and drown,” he snorted, nudging her back and beginning to make his way toward the fire.

norah was still humoring herself, having a little laugh about the serpent tattoo and how FP had gone off about it, grinning lightly as she made her way past a group of people. it didn’t cross her mind that it could be questionable to a bystander if they saw her walking off with FP, not in the slightest. but, maybe the beer was making her a little care-free and a little less aware. nearing the water, she found a fallen tree that had began to settle into the earth, before stepping on it and walking along it slowly, using it like a balance beam as her arms relaxed out at her sides in case she needed to regain some balance. 

“i did hear about that… the black hood? wasn’t that betty’s dad? what the hell goes on in this little town of yours? that sorta stuff doesn’t happen in the city.” surely it did, but it went underground than so openly amongst a small town like riverdale. she continued to walk along the trunk, before peering over at FP, opening her hand as she did. “hand me another? ive already decided you’ll have to drive me back to the house i’m staying at, so may as well make it interesting.”

and for someone who was teetering on the edge of being drunk, she was balancing herself well on the tree, before she hopped off it as they continued along the lake’s edge. “going back to when you said this town likes to talk… think anyone will start anything about us wandering off in the dark?” 

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FP followed after Anorah, earning himself a raised brow from one of the older Serpents who then sent him a meaningful look. FP flicked the guy off behind Anorah’s back, heading toward the water and taking a deep breath of the air—after breathing the smoke of the cigarette and the fire for the last few hours, this was a welcome reprieve. Ironically, he took a long drag off of his cigarette before he tossed it in the lake, snorting as Anorah balanced on the tree.

“Careful. You fall in break something and I’ll just leave you here for the wolves,” he teased, watching her and shaking his head before she started asking about the Black Hood. “That’s right—our very own serial killer, lucky us. Always thought that buttoned-up Hal Cooper was a bit too jock pretty boy in high school but I wouldn’t have made him out as someone who’d shoot Fred Andrews in the gut for no reason, go after teenagers for being teenagers. Then there was the Blossom boy, that was the year before. Fucking crazy if you ask me,” FP said rubbing his jaw before he ripped one of the cans away from the plastic rings of the six pack, tossing it to her before pulling away one himself and cracking it open. “Jokes on you, I’ve got the bike.”

FP paused a little at her question, considering for a beat. “No, I imagine not. You’re Wolf’s kid, I’m what—twice your age?” He half grinned at that. “They’ll probably think that you’ve gone off to throw up and I’ve offered to hold your hair up.”

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If you pulled a two a day in the gym and didn’t post about it, did you really do a two a day at all?

This post brought to you by bro Tumblr: we out here.

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It’s that time of day, friends:

that time of day I’m forced to be really fucking productive and work on my chapter for an edited collection. It’s due in exactly one week and guess how many words I’ve written? 0/7000.

If I owe you a reply, I’ll tag you back this evening.

[marinettas-main]

[caughtinfire-blog1]

Archie Andrews: actual dumbass.

[tastemysiin]

caughtinfire:

“You know, I’ve not had the heart to tell your ol’ man you’re out here, hanging around with these hooligans,” FP said, nodding vaguely in the direction of the bonfire. “Reckon he’d strangle me with his bare hands, handcuffs be damned, if he thought I was letting you spend time with the Serpents. No matter what any of these boys say, none of them would choose the Serpents for their daughters, not if they had an option. Sons is another story. We’re full of old school values ‘round here, misogyny chief among them,” he said with a snort, taking a sip of beer. “And, more importantly, I’ll tell you what—I’d take this beer, shit as it is, over anything with fruit any damn day of the week. You might be educated, kid, but you can’t teach taste,” he smirked.

“People in this town like to talk, period. They’d talk the wallpaper off the walls if they thought it would listen. Just because Alice’s psycho husband is behind bars, just because you’ve got a bit of history with someone…s’like half the town is looking for some high school reunion. Alice was a fuckin’ lifetime ago—high school, Jesus,” he said, raking a hand through his hair as he really thought about how much time had passed. “We were much younger and didn’t know any better. Reckon we know a bit better now. Why are you so interested in the gossip of the elderly, anyway?” He said with a wry grin.

“Listen, I bet your mom had the best intentions, keeping her daughter away from a bunch of dudes in leather with appreciations for motorcycles. Every mother’s worst nightmare, Alice can tell you all about that one. Criminals or not, though, Serpents are family for people who’ve not had family or who’ve been let down by them. Unconditional actually means something around these parts, when you put on a jacket or get the serpent tattoo. Unconditional loyalty is a damn hard thing to pass up. You’re Wolf’s kin, so I’m treating you like he treated Jug—put a beer in his hand and cigarettes in his pockets and left me to beat the hell out of him for smoking and drinking when he shouldn’t have been. I’m sure your dad’ll try to tan my ass whenever we get him outta county,” FP smirked even more now.

that surprised her, to hear that her father didn’t know she was in town. “i’m shocked that penny hasn’t told him. i’ve thought about going there, but i don’t know if i want the first time to see my dad in decades to be behind bars… i hope that doesn’t make me sound weak,” she offered a short laugh, knowing that when it came to being tough, anorah wasn’t anything close to it, at least by serpent definition. she hadn’t expected a warm and fuzzy reunion when she original set out to come track her old man down, but she also hadn’t prepared for the idea that he’d be arrested. she was prepared to hear he moved, or maybe even died.. but arrested? sitting in a shitty county jail? it made her drink again, nearly finishing her recent beer.

she decided to focus on something else, not wanting to dwell on some deep routed daddy-issue that was ingrained into her, and talking about the local gossip was much easier to stomach. “it’s funny, honestly. like some sitcom drama with bikers and the goody-two-shoes and all that. it’s even funnier that history has a weird way of repeating itself. how do you feel about jug being a thing with betty? she’s just as much of a sore thumb in this group as i am.” maybe even more, since betty had more of the ‘all american girl’ vibe to her, where as anorah was more so the ‘all american exhausted college graduate’. 

looking over at him, she gave him a playful squint. “are you saying i should get a serpent tattoo?” she was only kidding, knowing that the tattoo was something much more serious than just a quick, impulsive decision. but she started laughing, probably a little giddy from the beer that was holding onto her with a solid buzz. “god, imagine my dad’s face? hey dad, haven’t seen you in twenty years, look at this new ink i got! i’m apart of the family! he’d have a stroke, then and there.” but, she was still giggling about it a bit, shaking her head, before taking another drink. “i need to move my legs before i can’t get up any more. grab the rest of that beer,” she stood, only a hair bit wobbly. “take me for a walk. show me around the lake. i don’t know, something.” that being said, she stepped in front of him, nudging him in the shoulder playfully, before stepping away from the fire, and further more, putting herself in his responsibility so she wouldn’t wander off into the woods or around the lake bed alone.

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“Figured we’d give your ol’ man a break—being behind bars is bad enough, trust me...knowing your kid is coming to see you, having to talk to ‘em through plate glass with a telephone receiver, that’s something else. Might as well shock him when he’s got fresh air to breathe than leave him to stew over a twenty-year reunion alone in a cell, that’s my thought at least. Just had to bribe Penny, money is the only language she’s really ever understood.”

He took a long sip of his beer then glanced over to Jughead as she spoke, watching him look at Betty like she’d hung the stars. “He’s a better kid than I was at his age—me and Alice were like fire and gasoline, constantly screaming at each other and...” he paused, laughing under his breath, “...making up. Betty keeps Jug on his toes, keeps him from going all dark like I did, like Alice would’ve if she hadn’t started going steady with Hal. She’s a sore thumb, sure, but the girl’s earned her stripes around here, she’s shown her loyalty. Nobody’ll have a bad word to say against her, not unless they wanna meet the knuckle-end of Jug’s arm. Anyway, you don’t stick out so much—keeping quiet and to yourself, that’s blended you in plenty.”

FP snorted, then pointed at her. “Oy, you listen here—no tattoos, definitely no serpent tattoo. He’ll end up putting himself back in jail over it if he knew I gave you the idea. S’not to say he’d necessarily be opposed to you joining up—reckon every man here’d be proud to see their snot-nosed kid join the brotherhood. We’re all here for a purpose, after all. That said, shit’s not been the best ‘round here lately, I’m sure you’ve heard the gossip—murders and brawls with some of the Riverdale High jocks. Think it’s all calmed down for the most part, but you never know...anyway, better not put him in his grave early, Anorah,” FP said with a smirk. At her words he grabbed the plastic ring of a six pack (only one beer was missing) and stood, grunting and stretching a little before he nodding toward the lake, pausing to take a sip before he spoke. “Moon’s out. Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t fall in and drown,” he snorted, nudging her back and beginning to make his way toward the fire.

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caughtinfire:

And there it was—the pretense was shattered. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, clearing his throat, glancing at his hands before meeting her eye in the mirror. He sat there for a beat, not saying anything, before he huffed a sigh and squinted at her. “How old are you, Montana?” He asked after a long pause, already wondering if he was going to have to find a new barber which, honestly, was gonna be a pain in the ass and the height of unlucky.

“Nineteen,” she answered without hesitation as she moved behind him once more to finish her work.  “Let me remind you that I don’t know many people here, and you coming to my place to look at some of my special designs isn’t something anybody would ever find out about,” she told him, giving him a pointed look as she tilted his head forward and used one of those big brushes to dust the hair off of his neck.  For the last bit, she leaned down to whisper just past his hear.  “I haven’t gotten fucked by anyone other than myself in months… I think you’d do a much better job than my vibrator,” she told him softly, then blew to get the remainder of the hair off of him and popped up again, her tits bouncing a bit as she did.  “All done!  What do you think?” she asked in her usual bubbly tone moments later.

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FP had blanched when she’d said her age. I’d have figured twenty-one, twenty-two, maybe...not someone just a few years older than his pain-in-the-ass kid. What the hell was she doing on her own in Riverdale, anyway? He did his best to recover quickly, nodding as if yes, sure, of course she was nineteen...but then she leaned closer and there it was. No more “harmless” flirting, surface level tete-a-tete—now out in the open was the fact that she wanted him...and from the way he felt a surge of blood pool in his groin at her words, the way that his body seemed to already make a decision about what exactly to do about that before he’d had the opportunity to honestly think about it...he was in trouble. And then she was standing again and the spell was broken, almost as if he’d dreamed it up himself—he didn’t put it past his subconscious at this point; like her, it had been a goddamn while for him, too. He reached a hand up to his hair, twisting slightly in the chair to look at her handiwork, maybe a bit more discerning than usual because he felt a bit like a fish out of water at the moment. “I, uh—looks great, Montana, always do a great job,” he said quickly, waiting for her to undo his apron before he reached in his back pocket for his worn leather wallet. “I’ll have to come see you...” he said, counting bills, then realizing his words were hanging in the air, “...about that tattoo.”

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caughtinfire:

FP had nodded at the ‘I love horseshoes’ comment but then suddenly she was talking about her underwear and he did not know how to play it. Because Jesus, of course he was picturing her in her underwear now. He snapped out of it after a beat, deciding that yes, what the hell, he should just go with the flow. No need to make it awkward. He nodded along, smirking a little in spite of the fact that he’d just been thrown a moment ago. “Is that right? Funny, I’ve got that same pair at home,” he said, biting back a laugh as he looked at her in the mirror.

Montana wrinkled her nose as she circled around to get the other side of his head.  “I don’t think so… I haven’t left them there yet… if I had, you wouldn’t need the tattoo for luck, you’d have already gotten lucky,” she teased, and though her eyes remained on his hair, she peered at the mirror through her long lashes so she could see how he was reacting.  “Ultimately that’s what you want, right FP?  To let me help you get lucky?”

[caughtinfire-blog1]

And there it was—the pretense was shattered. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, clearing his throat, glancing at his hands before meeting her eye in the mirror. He sat there for a beat, not saying anything, before he huffed a sigh and squinted at her. “How old are you, Montana?” He asked after a long pause, already wondering if he was going to have to find a new barber which, honestly, was gonna be a pain in the ass and the height of unlucky.

[tastemysiin]

caughtinfire:

FP snorted at her comment about Jughead, shaking his head as he ran his hand over his jaw. “You don’t think I tried to talk him out of hanging ‘round these losers? Beats me what he’s doing with his life, he’s a fine writer” he said good naturedly, grinning a little to himself as he glanced over at Jughead who had one arm slung around Betty’s shoulders, simultaneously yelling at the guys to leave the pinned kid alone to no avail. He was instantly reminded of his younger self, though he had a lot more scars by the time he was Jughead’s age and had a rap sheet that would’ve made his own son pale.

“Just as gray, huh?” FP countered with amusement, shaking his head. “You say that and you watch this supply of beers dry up real fuckin’ fast, girl,” he said, biting back a grin as he took a long sip from his beer. He finished this one and tossed it after the first, listening to it smash in the bottom of the trash bin with a satisfying shattering sound. “I don’t know if you can hold your own—I figured college girls like you were too busy drinking fancy things with umbrellas and cranberry juice,” he snorted at his own dumb comment, then cocked a brow at her question. “Did I come with anyone—no, ‘course not,” he said, clearly startled by the line of conversation, opening a bottle on his belt and passing it to her before opening one for himself. “Not seeing anyone, these aren’t really the kinda gatherings you bring dates to, as you can damn well see,” he said, waving across the scene with relish like it was his kingdom and not an abandoned stretch of land with drunk teenagers, middle-aged men, and the grandfather crowd.

“i guess you can’t help it if its in your blood whether you try to get your kid out of here or your kid gets raised thousands of miles away and they still become a part of it…,” she shrugged, before pointing out. “i mean, hell.. i ended up here and i haven’t been in riverdale since i was six. life has a way of throwing things like that for a loop. my mom tried her hardest to keep me from here, but here i am…,” drawling off, she reached for the beer with a light smile of appreciation. “…here i am, hanging out with one of my dad’s friends, trying to get him out of jail. funny how things work out, mm?” and that earned a hardy chug of beer, the taste making her wrinkle her nose. “a fruity, fancy drink doesn’t sound half bad right now, for your information. don’t knock it til you try it.”

she cradled the beer between her knobby knees, liking the coolness of it compared to the heat that the flames of the bonfire was licking her body with. it was humoring how he appeared taken back by her question, as if she had pulled the rug from under his boots. shrugging, she took a drag from her cigarette before exhaling with a little laugh, sure to blow the smoke away from him to be polite. “the town sure does like to talk about you and alice, that’s all i’m saying. and that’s coming from a girl who hasn’t really talked to a lot of people,” she pointed out.

“it’s not what i was expecting though…the club, i mean,” anorah stopped kidding around, being a little serious for once. “my mom made you all out to seem like a bunch of criminals.” which they were, but that wasn’t what norah was shooting out. “…like you guys had no sense of family, or respect. none of you had to help me out, you especially. you could’ve told me to screw off. but here you are… being a bad influence and handing me beers and cigarettes.” she grinned then, tossing the burning butt of the cigarette towards the fire. 

[caughtinfire-blog1]

“You know, I’ve not had the heart to tell your ol’ man you’re out here, hanging around with these hooligans,” FP said, nodding vaguely in the direction of the bonfire. “Reckon he’d strangle me with his bare hands, handcuffs be damned, if he thought I was letting you spend time with the Serpents. No matter what any of these boys say, none of them would choose the Serpents for their daughters, not if they had an option. Sons is another story. We’re full of old school values ‘round here, misogyny chief among them,” he said with a snort, taking a sip of beer. “And, more importantly, I’ll tell you what—I’d take this beer, shit as it is, over anything with fruit any damn day of the week. You might be educated, kid, but you can’t teach taste,” he smirked.

“People in this town like to talk, period. They’d talk the wallpaper off the walls if they thought it would listen. Just because Alice’s psycho husband is behind bars, just because you’ve got a bit of history with someone...s’like half the town is looking for some high school reunion. Alice was a fuckin’ lifetime ago—high school, Jesus,” he said, raking a hand through his hair as he really thought about how much time had passed. “We were much younger and didn’t know any better. Reckon we know a bit better now. Why are you so interested in the gossip of the elderly, anyway?” He said with a wry grin.

“Listen, I bet your mom had the best intentions, keeping her daughter away from a bunch of dudes in leather with appreciations for motorcycles. Every mother’s worst nightmare, Alice can tell you all about that one. Criminals or not, though, Serpents are family for people who’ve not had family or who’ve been let down by them. Unconditional actually means something around these parts, when you put on a jacket or get the serpent tattoo. Unconditional loyalty is a damn hard thing to pass up. You’re Wolf’s kin, so I’m treating you like he treated Jug—put a beer in his hand and cigarettes in his pockets and left me to beat the hell out of him for smoking and drinking when he shouldn’t have been. I’m sure your dad’ll try to tan my ass whenever we get him outta county,” FP smirked even more now.

[treasureslowlyfade]

caughtinfire:

FP shifted in his chair, looking covertly to the chairs to either side of Montana’s–both of the other girls chatted casually to customers, clearly not listening in, certainly not hearing what he’d just heard. He pressed his mouth into a line for a moment, steeling himself because now seemed like a good time to have a little bit of restraint. A tiny bit. The smallest possible amount. He glanced up at her, watching her in the mirror again, feeling a tug at the base of his stomach as he raked his eyes over her chest, simultaneously thankful for and cursing the fact that girls like her wore white tank tops like that. “A horseshoe,” he answered after a beat, tracing a circle around the upper right region of his chest. “Here. So that at least there’s some luck in me somewhere,” he said with a bit of a snort.

Montana grinned, moving around him as she trimmed the sides of his hair and watching him show her where he wanted his tattoo.  “I love horseshoes… I think I have one on my panties right now,” she told him casually as she combed through his hair again.  “Though you can’t make fun of me, the ass of them TOTALLY says like ‘these are my gettin’ lucky panties’ she teased.  In actuality she was wearing a thong, but Montana had decided to be a bit bolder today.  Clearly he liked her enough to keep coming back to her even though she clearly wasn’t the best in the shop… it had given her the confidence she needed to work on actually making something happen. 

[caughtinfire-blog1]

FP had nodded at the ‘I love horseshoes’ comment but then suddenly she was talking about her underwear and he did not know how to play it. Because Jesus, of course he was picturing her in her underwear now. He snapped out of it after a beat, deciding that yes, what the hell, he should just go with the flow. No need to make it awkward. He nodded along, smirking a little in spite of the fact that he’d just been thrown a moment ago. “Is that right? Funny, I’ve got that same pair at home,” he said, biting back a laugh as he looked at her in the mirror.

[tastemysiin]

caughtinfire:

“Ah, you’re full of shit, you were waiting,” FP replied with a smirk, mumbling as he kept the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, winking at her before he pulled a lighter from his pocket. “You not fitting in with the high schoolers then?” He teased nodding to where a group of boys about Jughead’s age who’d pinned one guy to the ground and were now reading some less-than-appropriate text messages aloud from his phone. FP lit the cigarette and blew smoke out of his nose after a beat, body looking visibly more relaxed. There was nothing like smoking and having a beer, after all. “And you’re gonna be singing a different fuckin’ tune here in a bit when I’m a half a case deep and you’re still nursing beer number what—two?” He snorted, kicking his boots up on a nearby log and getting comfortable as he pulled another drag from his cigarette, flicking the lighter a few times idly. “I’m not old—hey, there you go—“ FP pointed to a guy who looked like he was in his sixties, one of the grandfathers of the Serpents who had a big, white beard and skin that looked like leather. “—that guy, he’s old. Probably old enough to remember the founders of this here fine group of men…and women,” he added quickly, thinking of Toni and Cheryl. “Nowhere close to too old,” he grumbled after a beat, reaching back into his pocket for the cigarettes.

He pulled one from the pack, handing it to Anorah. Once she’d put the cigarette between her lips, he leaned forward and lit it for her, hand brushing hers as he cupped his hands to make a barrier between the flame and the cool breeze that threatened to put it out. “These things’ll kill you—you’re some kinda future doctor, aren’t you? Oughta know better, college girl,” he mumbled under his breath, meeting her eye before he let the trigger of the lighter go, flame extinguishing instantly. He leaned back, watching her, taking a drag from his own.

norah didn’t think she was better than the younger group, not by a long shot. but it was clear that personalities alone, they were far more rambunctious than she was. she probably looked like a sheep compared to them, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she’d find a good conversation with that blossom girl – even with her short experiences with cheryl, it was too much of a reminder of those ‘friends’ she left behind when she went to college. “i think i’ll pass on hanging with them. your kid seems cool, it’s a wonder why he stuck around with you heathens,” she shot back, looking over FP’s shoulder to watch the boys roll in the dirt. christ… 

her attention shifted when he pointed out the older man, who certainly looked aged, so she had to let a little laugh out. “you’re not too far off from looking like that, my friend. give it a few years and you’ll be just as gray,” she mused, before leaning towards him when he shifted for the cigarette, glad that he didn’t shut her down. she pinched the butt with her teeth, her eyes shifting to peek over at him when his hand grazed hers while offering her the lighter, before leaning back on her crate and taking a drag that stung in all the right ways. 

“we all gotta die someway, right?” she shifted her legs, crossing one over the other at the ankle while the cigarette hung between her pointer and middle finger, rolling the butt with her thumb. “also, not going to be a doctor. that means you have to have compassion for people.” which she didn’t. “i’ll just be the one discovering stuff… like the cure for cancer. or something.” isn’t that what everyone always said? she didn’t even know what she was planning on doing with her life, and it was noticeable in the uncertainty of her voice. 

going back to what he said previously, after she took another drag, she nodded to the case of beer beside him almost in a challenge. “you think i can’t hold my own? just because i wasn’t raised around here doesn’t mean i didn’t do my fair share of driving my mom crazy and giving her gray hairs. gimme another, hot shot. we’ll see how both of us are feeling after a few more of these, huh?” her smile was more of a smirk, before she took another drag, enjoying the familiar taste that she hadn’t had probably since she quit when she was a freshman in college. “you didn’t come with anyone. why not?” she called him out, unsure if FP was with anyone, seeing as even she had heard rumors of FP and alice floating around.

[caughtinfire-blog1]

FP snorted at her comment about Jughead, shaking his head as he ran his hand over his jaw. “You don’t think I tried to talk him out of hanging ‘round these losers? Beats me what he’s doing with his life, he’s a fine writer” he said good naturedly, grinning a little to himself as he glanced over at Jughead who had one arm slung around Betty’s shoulders, simultaneously yelling at the guys to leave the pinned kid alone to no avail. He was instantly reminded of his younger self, though he had a lot more scars by the time he was Jughead’s age and had a rap sheet that would’ve made his own son pale.

“Just as gray, huh?” FP countered with amusement, shaking his head. “You say that and you watch this supply of beers dry up real fuckin’ fast, girl,” he said, biting back a grin as he took a long sip from his beer. He finished this one and tossed it after the first, listening to it smash in the bottom of the trash bin with a satisfying shattering sound. “I don’t know if you can hold your own—I figured college girls like you were too busy drinking fancy things with umbrellas and cranberry juice,” he snorted at his own dumb comment, then cocked a brow at her question. “Did I come with anyone—no, ‘course not,” he said, clearly startled by the line of conversation, opening a bottle on his belt and passing it to her before opening one for himself. “Not seeing anyone, these aren’t really the kinda gatherings you bring dates to, as you can damn well see,” he said, waving across the scene with relish like it was his kingdom and not an abandoned stretch of land with drunk teenagers, middle-aged men, and the grandfather crowd.

[tastemysiin]

caughtinfire:

FP snorted at the girl’s comment, thinking that he’d pay good money to see someone knock Fangs on his ass—as much as he liked the kid, some of the younger Serpents could be cocky motherfuckers, especially the boys who tended to have too much energy and too few productive outlets. “Think you could? Just say when you’re ready, I’ll go ‘round and collect bets. Reckon we could buy something better than a keg of Miller with the winnings if you put up a good fight,” he said with a smirk before finishing his beer. He tossed the bottle into a nearby garbage bin, hearing the glass shatter at the bottom as he reached for a new one, opening the cap with the ridge of his belt buckle.

“You been waiting on me then, kid?” FP asked with amusement, glancing over at the girl. He’d had a hard time knowing what to do with her at first; running around in search of shit for Wolf was easy enough, but interacting with a girl who wasn’t a Serpent was something else. It was a cakewalk with the teenagers in the gang—he had used to boss them around like they were one of us own, getting in their faces if they talked back or gave him hell. Anorah hadn’t done any of those things and, more importantly still, she wasn’t a Serpent—while being Wolf’s daughter had made her close enough, he wasn’t the King anymore and she wasn’t some young thing like Betty Cooper, who he still played the ‘parent’ card with when need be. Anorah was grown. Speaking of…

“Too old? You’re gonna sit there when I’m out at—“ FP paused, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time, squinting at the display, “—at 10:41 at night on a Saturday night and say that you thought I might miss a night out with my crew because I’m too old?” His tone was accusing but the smirk on his face made it clear that he wasn’t too serious. He reached into the pocket of his beat-to-hell denim shirt and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, knocking them against the heel of his palm as he spoke again. “I’m just getting started.”

“let me have a few more beers and we’ll see where we’re at with collecting bets,” she laughed, a genuine laugh, something she hadn’t expected and the smile lingered on her lips and finally knocked the bitch face off her features. glancing from the fire to FP, her eyes dropped to watch him flick the cap off with his belt buckle before looking back to his features. his amusement was easily heard in his tone, but she rolled her eyes in jest before taking another swig of her beer. she was getting low, but she wasn’t sure if she’d snag another just yet. toasty was a good way to describe her, and norah wasn’t trying to come off as a drunk in front of people who were probably already a bit wary of her.

“i wasn’t waiting, don’t kid yourself.” it was easy to joke with him, despite him being nearly twenty years older than her, the age gap seemed pretty minute. maybe it was just a sort of relief, not having to talk about her father’s case and having to worry about the shady lawyer FP seemed to trust, but norah didn’t at all. even the thought of her made her shoulders tense, and her instinct was raging to not trust that haggard blonde. 

another laugh bubbled from her mouth, though a short one, when he tried to sell it to her that he was just getting started. was she in for a long night? it was a thought, one she wasn’t sure of, and it made her curious for how the night would go. “there’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re getting too old, too tired. it’s okay, nobody will judge you, FP,” she taunted a bit, finishing the last of her beer and settling on the dirt beside her worn, broken in boots who’s tongues flopped over with laces that were cracked and worn.

“let me bum one?” it was a question she even hesitated to ask, unsure if he’d be cool about it, half waiting for a lecture like most adults above her tried to instill. “it’s been a long week. if i have to study anymore lawyer terms just to understand the stuff penny is spewing, i think my head will pop off.” science was her gig, which was why she had a micro-biologist job lined up for… whenever she was going to go home. but who knew when that was going to be, at that point. but law? criminal jargon? that was an entirely different ball game.

[caughtinfire-blog1]

“Ah, you’re full of shit, you were waiting,” FP replied with a smirk, mumbling as he kept the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, winking at her before he pulled a lighter from his pocket. “You not fitting in with the high schoolers then?” He teased nodding to where a group of boys about Jughead’s age who’d pinned one guy to the ground and were now reading some less-than-appropriate text messages aloud from his phone. FP lit the cigarette and blew smoke out of his nose after a beat, body looking visibly more relaxed. There was nothing like smoking and having a beer, after all. “And you’re gonna be singing a different fuckin’ tune here in a bit when I’m a half a case deep and you’re still nursing beer number what—two?” He snorted, kicking his boots up on a nearby log and getting comfortable as he pulled another drag from his cigarette, flicking the lighter a few times idly. “I’m not old—hey, there you go—“ FP pointed to a guy who looked like he was in his sixties, one of the grandfathers of the Serpents who had a big, white beard and skin that looked like leather. “—that guy, he’s old. Probably old enough to remember the founders of this here fine group of men...and women,” he added quickly, thinking of Toni and Cheryl. “Nowhere close to too old,” he grumbled after a beat, reaching back into his pocket for the cigarettes.

He pulled one from the pack, handing it to Anorah. Once she’d put the cigarette between her lips, he leaned forward and lit it for her, hand brushing hers as he cupped his hands to make a barrier between the flame and the cool breeze that threatened to put it out. “These things’ll kill you—you’re some kinda future doctor, aren’t you? Oughta know better, college girl,” he mumbled under his breath, meeting her eye before he let the trigger of the lighter go, flame extinguishing instantly. He leaned back, watching her, taking a drag from his own.

[tastemysiin]

caughtinfire:

When Anorah had shown up at Pop’s, he hadn’t immediately identified her as Wolf’s kid—based on how she looked, her mother must have been a hell of a lot better looking than Wolf, what with his ugly mug. He’d spent the following few weeks doing favors of the girl between his shifts at the quarry—checking in with the Snake Charmer to see what progress had been made on Wolf’s case, rounding up the Serpents to give depositions to the police to try to get the charges dropped, meeting up with the man himself at the county jail to keep him updated about the progress as well as his daughter. Now that things had gone a bit quiet in Riverdale, FP had secretly needed something to do. Jughead had been running around with Betty so much lately, he barely saw the kid; he’d occasionally pass him on the way to the can or find him in front of the TV in the living space, scarfing down hamburger helper like he hadn’t seen food in weeks.

Now, having stepped down as the Serpent King, he was thankful for Anorah and something to do that wasn’t fielding threats from the Ghoulies or outrunning the law on his bike. Since he’d given up his job at Pop’s for something a bit more substantial to do with his hands, he’d felt out of the loop. Working on keeping Anorah updated about Wolf, dragging the riff-raff to and from the courthouse…it had kept him in touch with his boys, his second family. He appreciated it more than he’d say.

And here he was: his first Serpent party as former King. Jughead was there with Betty, sneaking beers and roasting marshmallows on the fire, too busy to bother with his old man as he and Sweetpea and Fang and the boys roughhoused or perched themselves on logs or overturned crates to flirt with Toni and that new red-headed girl who were clearly too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to the sad attempts at flirting that were flung their way. FP walked the parameter of the party, unable to keep himself from glancing out in every direction for the telltale signs of Ghoulies. Amid the din of the party, he spotted Anorah on her own and made his way over, sitting himself on top of an empty cooler once he flipped the lid shut, taking a long sip of his beer.

“Someone’s in the partying mood, huh?” FP said sarcastically, nudging her shoulder with his own as he nodded out toward the fire. “You don’t feel like burning the shit out of some marshmallows or letting Fang put you in a headlock?” He said with a smirk.

she found herself stuck in a weird in-between of wondering if she should go hang out with the high schoolers, or try to kick it with the older members, but both options led her to be unsure. what the hell did she have to relate to any of them, other than the fact that she was a locked up member’s daughter who he hadn’t seen since she was six? surely, her chronic case of ‘resting bitch face’ didn’t help her lack of attempt to go socialize, since anorah knew ‘fuck off’ was almost permanently written across her features, even when she was at her happiest. 

hearing the cooler beside her get shut took her from her thoughts, sitting a little straighter with less of a slouch to her slim shoulders as she peered over, and found some sort of relief. at the very least, it was a familiar face. a familiar face that wasn’t penny’s, who she still wasn’t sure how she felt about. the snakecharmer had been doing her favors, but even anorah who could be considered naive, knew that favors always came at a cost. she just wasn’t sure what her cost was going to run her later on.

“i’m just getting warmed up… another five minutes and i probably would’ve started a streaking party,” she mused back at the former leader, only to then take a sip of her beer. she hated beer, but it was better than drinking water. “i wouldn’t want to embarrass fangs in front of everyone. what would it say if he got shown up by some chick, right?” it was sarcasm, anorah was far from fit, and weight a buck-twenty on a good day.

“i was wondering if you’d show up,” norah added. it was odd to think that FP had become one of the few people… honestly, probably the only person… she trusted in that rinky-dink town, seeing as he had done nothing but help her. it proved that he stood by the law of the serpent, that they protected and stood by their own; if only the people she knew back home had that sort of moral. “but i wasn’t sure if you were getting too old for these sort of things and couldn’t keep up with the rest of us,” norah grinned, brushing her mess of hair from her face since it was more often than not, completely unkempt.

[caughtinfire-blog1]

FP snorted at the girl’s comment, thinking that he’d pay good money to see someone knock Fangs on his ass—as much as he liked the kid, some of the younger Serpents could be cocky motherfuckers, especially the boys who tended to have too much energy and too few productive outlets. “Think you could? Just say when you’re ready, I’ll go ‘round and collect bets. Reckon we could buy something better than a keg of Miller with the winnings if you put up a good fight,” he said with a smirk before finishing his beer. He tossed the bottle into a nearby garbage bin, hearing the glass shatter at the bottom as he reached for a new one, opening the cap with the ridge of his belt buckle.

“You been waiting on me then, kid?” FP asked with amusement, glancing over at the girl. He’d had a hard time knowing what to do with her at first; running around in search of shit for Wolf was easy enough, but interacting with a girl who wasn’t a Serpent was something else. It was a cakewalk with the teenagers in the gang—he had used to boss them around like they were one of us own, getting in their faces if they talked back or gave him hell. Anorah hadn’t done any of those things and, more importantly still, she wasn’t a Serpent—while being Wolf’s daughter had made her close enough, he wasn’t the King anymore and she wasn’t some young thing like Betty Cooper, who he still played the ‘parent’ card with when need be. Anorah was grown. Speaking of...

“Too old? You’re gonna sit there when I’m out at—“ FP paused, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time, squinting at the display, “—at 10:41 at night on a Saturday night and say that you thought I might miss a night out with my crew because I’m too old?” His tone was accusing but the smirk on his face made it clear that he wasn’t too serious. He reached into the pocket of his beat-to-hell denim shirt and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, knocking them against the heel of his palm as he spoke again. “I’m just getting started.”