Love TV and Movies and sometimes I write about them. Maybe I'll just write random thoughts about life. Who knows? But I hope you'll stay awhile. Click the "My Stuff" link on the sidebar to read all my fic.
Still not back and I have to force myself to step away from Tumblr again, but I missed writing these two and the last ep awakened the muse.
Based on this prompt from dailyau:Ā Youāre trying to reach the top shelf and I know youāre short but please ask for help instead of climbing shelves/using books as stools/getting a running start AU
Oliver hates supermarkets. He can never find anything. Granted, thatās probably because he can count the number of times heās been inside one on the fingers of one hand. His family has people for this. The Lances, however, do not. If they did, Laurel wouldnāt have called him to ask him to pick up ice cream on his way over. Usually, heād just ignore the request and show up anyway, feigning forgetfulness. He knows how to turn on the charm when it counts. But he got a little too drunk and a little too flirtatious with some girls at the party the other night and he wants off of Laurelās shit list.
He should just ask someone where the ice cream aisle is, but the employees in these places are always so judgmental. He can feel their smug condescension. "Of course pampered rich boy, Oliver Queen, doesnāt know where to find the beer.ā So, instead, he has to walk the length of the store, looking down each aisle until he finds what he needs.
Heās just turning to look down what feels like his hundredth when he sees her. Thereās a girl: a tiny, blonde blur of motion. He catches her mid-jump as she tries to reach a cereal box perched on the top shelf. He freezes in place, surprised, and watches as she lands without the box in her hands. She pauses a moment and then breathes a heavy sigh as she turns to scowl up at the box. When she starts to walk away, Oliver assumes sheās giving up, but then she turns back toward the boxāa determined look on her faceāand takes a running jump as she tries to grab the box again. She gets much closer this time, but she still misses and when she lands on the ground, Oliver can hear her grumbling to herself even from ten feet away.
Oliver thinks sheāll surely give up now, but, instead, she grabs another box much lower on the shelf. He expects her to put it in the nearby cart and walk away dissatisfied, but heās surprised again when she takes it and leans up toward the one she originally wanted, using what he now sees is a box of Lucky Charms to try to knock it down. Heās impressed by her ingenuity and for a moment, he thinks it might work, but all the girl manages to do is push the desired box even farther back on the shelf. She gives up after a moment, throws her head back and makes a loud sound of frustration.
Oliver is just about to finally go over to help the girl when she suddenly throws the Lucky Charms box at the one on the top shelfāsupposedly to try to knock it down. But her aim is bad and instead of hitting the other box, the Lucky Charms hit the metal of the shelf and bounce back at her so fast that she has to duck to avoid them. She stares after themālooking affrontedāand Oliver canāt help laughing. The girl must hear him because she turns in his direction, but Oliver manages to step behind the end-cap and out of her view before she spots him. Nonetheless, the reminder that there might be other people around seems to have snapped the girl out of her cereal-induced rage and she looks around timidly.
Still, she doesnāt walk away. Rather, she takes one last look around and then approaches the shelf again. Oliver is just wondering what she could possibly do next when he sees her wrap her hands around the edges of the higher shelves and then firmly set her right foot on a lower shelf, clearly preparing to climb up them. He intends to just watch her, but then Oliver sees the shelves wobble slightly as she hoist herself up to the next level and he knows he has to intervene or this could end in disaster. He approaches her silently, waiting until heās right behind her before he finally speaks.
āNeed a hand?ā he asks. The girl whips her head around and freezes, her eyes wild and as she realizes sheās been caught. Oliver struggles not to laugh and then steps toward her, reaches over her to easily grab the box (of Cookie Crisp, of all things) from the top shelf and then steps back. Her eyes follow the box as he does and she stays latched to the front of the shelves for a moment before she starts to climb down.
āThanks,ā she says when she finally sets foot on the ground, her face now flushed with embarrassment. "I probably should have just asked someone for help," she goes on, shuffling nervously and avoiding Oliver's eyes, "but the people who work here make me feel like a little kid asking my parents' for permission. Like, I know it's pure sugar, but that's why it's delicious."
"I hate asking for help too," Oliver says, smiling, and hands her the box. "I've been looking for the ice cream for fifteen minutes."
"I know where that is," she says, perking up and finally looking at him. She looks like she's going to go on, but her face changes as she finally focuses on him and Oliver knows he's been recognized. "Aren't you Oliver Queen?" the girl asks, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Don't you have, like, maids to do your grocery shopping? Is that even what a maid does?" she continues before Oliver has time to answer. "I mean, I've only ever seen maids in movies, so I don't know what they do, but I guess now that I think about it, movies probably aren't that accurate. Movie maids always wear those little black and white dresses and unless your family are sadists or, like, Southern plantation owners, then yours probably don't wear them."
Usually, Oliver would be annoyed, even offended, by all this speculation about his family, but the girl's ramble was so off-hand and genuine that he can't help but be amused by it.
"No, we don't make our people wear uniforms," he says with a smirk and then adds, "unless we're throwing an event."
"Ah," the girl says, nodding sagely.
"And they usually buy groceries, but I'm on the way to a...friend's house," he explains, wondering why he decided not to put the word "girl" in front of "friend."
"Oh, OK, well, um, I'm headed to the freezer aisle if you want to come with," she offers, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. "I've gotta replenish my mint chip supply."
"Thanks, I'd appreciate that..."
"Felicity," she finishes for him.
"Felicity," he repeats, pleased by the prettiness of it.
I've been on a fic-writing hiatus for a long time now, but I just couldn't stop thinking about this. Really love Riverdale and I am all in for Betty and Veronica. Feedback is always appreciated.
Veronica can't sleep. Usually, she falls asleep the second her head hits the pillow, but she's spent the last few hours tossing and turning. She just can't stop thinking about what happened earlier.
She'd been surprised when Betty first told her her plan to get back at Chuck. Veronica didn't think sweet, innocent Betty Cooper was capable of thinking up such a cruel trickānever mind actually going through with it. She'd assumed she would have to take the lead, that Betty would be just as meek as she was during cheerleading tryouts. So, her jaw had nearly hit the floor when Betty had stepped through that door.
Veronica shifts in bed as she remembers that moment. The wig, that...bra... She can't even believe Betty would own something like that. Maybe it's Polly's. Now there's a thought. Betty's never told her exactly what happened between Polly and Jason, but she can tell how much it affects Betty from that pained look she gets on her face anytime anyone mentions her sister. Veronica hates that look. It makes her feel powerless.
Kind of like the powerlessness she'd felt tonight. No matter how hard she tries, she can't help hearing Betty's voice: "Betty couldn't make it, so she sent me instead." Veronica rolls onto her back, lets out a growl of frustration and then squeezes her pillow over her ears. But it can't stop her from remembering that strange thrill she felt in that moment, so similar to the unexpected sense of warmth she'd felt when she'd jokingly kissed Betty.
Chuck had been behind her when Betty had walked in, but when Veronica looked back at him, she saw the same shock she felt written on his face. They tried to go back to the raunchy flirting they'd done before Betty walked in the room, but everything suddenly felt different. The air felt heavy with anticipation and even as Veronica and Chuck moved closer in the jacuzzi, neither of them put much effort into their conversation. They were too busy watching Betty move around the room, wordlessly obeying her every command.
Veronica had felt the situation taking a dangerous turn when she found Betty spiking Chuck's drink, but she hadn't stopped her. Betty's a good girl from a nowhere town, she'd stop herself from crossing a line. If Betty needed to put on a wig and escape the pressure of being herself for once, then Veronica wouldn't stop her. But then things had escalated. Betty had set her shiny black heel on top of Chuck's head and pushed him down into the jacuzzi's scalding water until he'd apologized for what he'd done. That had been alarming enough, but then Betty brought out the maple syrup bottle and things spiraled out of control until Betty was yelling about Polly and Jason and Veronica was begging her to stop. And then it was as if a flip had switched. Betty was back to herself, looking confused and just as shocked as Veronica at what had just happened.
It had frightened Veronica, seeing Betty like that, but the thing that was keeping her awake was that it had excited her too. No one had ever come through for her like that. More often than not, the girls she went to school with in New York had felt more like enemies than friends. But there Betty was, willing to do whatever it took to protect Veronica after just a few rocky weeks of friendship. Well, if that's what you would even call it. "Friendship" seemed inadequate in this case.
Veronica rolls onto her back and opens her eyes. Her room is lighter than she expected and when she turns toward her window, she sees that the sun is already starting to rise. She sighs and then turns to stare up at the ceiling. "This is going to be the longest day ever," she thinks, already exhausted. But then she remembers morning means she'll get to see Betty at school. Her pulse quickens at the thought. They hadn't really talked after Chuck left. Betty had avoided her eyes as they cleaned up Ethel's pool house and had barely managed to mutter a soft goodbye before she went home. Veronica pulls back the covers and sits up, suddenly desperate to talk to Betty. They have to talk about what happened last night, have to talk about why Betty started talking about Jason and Polly and why she started acting like a whole different person. And most of all, Veronica has to find out why Betty was willing to do all that for her.
I wasnāt born into this like you. I was a dyslexic foster kid. No prospects, no future. I mean, itās a minor miracle Iām not a hooker right now. Tutor me.
fantasesayĀ Special thank you to @whenpigsflypastries for creating this MIND BLOWING CAKE! You are a true talent and we couldnāt imagine getting a cake from anyone else š
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