#(also wrote this while very drunk so sorry for typos etc)

[sparklingbinjuice]

“Jake,” a familiar deep voice echoed through the parking lot, reverberating off the tall red brick walls and through the cab’s slightly open window, “Jake Lockley.”

“Not now,” he hissed. His face was half-buried in the crook of his arm, left elbow digging into his right knee as he tried to keep a hold of himself, folded over almost double. His hands were still firmly clasped around the steering wheel. The leather of his gloves squeaked plaintively as he repetitively clenched and unclenched his fists.

Fuck, he wished he could crawl all the way inside himself, find somewhere warm and safe to hide. To rest. To breathe.

“I can’t… Not now.” Fresh tears of exhaustion were hot on his cheeks, salt stinging his skin as they traced pathways  down to his stubbled upper lip through three days’ sweat and grime. “’M busy.”

“Jake Lockley,” the deep voice said again, firm and definite. The voice of a god. He knew who it was. He growled against his suited upper arm, frustration overcoming his misery.

“This ain’t the time, OK?” he snapped. He flexed his fingertips against the wheel, tracing the familiar bumps and grooves that he knew so well for comfort.

“We have work to do, my Moon Knight.”

He sniffed sharply, like he could just be clearing his nose. It was allergy season, after all. The brim of his cap hid his red eyes nicely, thank fuck.

“I was just taking a breather,” he said, counting his way through every stuttering inhalation. “It’s late. I’m tired.”

“It’s not yet dawn,” Khonshu informed him unnecessarily. No shit. The horizon was still an inky navy-blue beyond his windscreen. No stars. No fucking moon. Certainly no hint of the sun. “Many innocent travellers still require our protection.”

“You don’t gotta tell me,” Jake murmured. His damp eyelids were drooping. The others kept their body well rested, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had slept. He was tired to his bones, an ache so deep he could almost cry from it. He was crying from it. “’m doing my best,” he said.

The engine was off and the cab was cooling. He curled inwards towards the wheel again, lower lip quivering uncontrollably.

“Jake Lockley,” the voice was more gentle, soft almost. “A few more hours, my warrior,” it told him, soothing and close.

He hummed in the back of his throat, finding an actual reply to be too much effort. He had slept in the cab before but the soft cushioning of his headrest had never seemed more inviting. He pressed back against it momentarily, enjoying the way it yielded against the back of his head. His shoulders relaxed into the soft seat, tingling slightly from being tense for so long.

“Jake Lockley...” Tears were still forging a path down his cheeks. It felt like they were cutting into his skull. He swiped them swiftly away, expensive gloves gliding across his face. He caught a glimpse of the half-moons that decorated his knuckles and felt a sudden surge of shame. “There is work to be done.”

“I know,” he said, still staring at the wet shimmer on the back of his hands, a silver glitter in the golden glow of city street lights. “Where to?”

#moon knight #jake lockley #my fics #hmmmm #this is a drabble #but i'm in my jake feelings tonight #khonshu #i'm allergic to posting anything under 1k to ao3 #(also wrote this while very drunk so sorry for typos etc)

[believe-that-you-can-my-friend]

Summary: Five snapshots of Jughead’s and Betty’s life when Jughead had nowhere to stay and Betty was hiding him in her room. 

Read on AO3

(Okay, I know this is long; I know. But seriously I can’t help the fact that I want to fill entire books with how adorably cute those two are! <3 So grab your snacks and drinks and dive in hahaha! Also I’m sorry if there are any typos, it’s really late and I’m way tired to notice my mistakes. I hope you all like it guys!!!) 

Two days had passed since the night Betty Cooper had stormed inside the Blue & Gold office like a wild force of nature, catching Jughead on the act as well as learning about his secret of not having a place of his own anymore, and coexisting under the same roof was going smoothly for the two friends. Every morning they would wake up way earlier than most people in their town, and especially than Betty’s parents, and Jughead, although not being a morning person, would sneak out with a grateful smile plastered on his lips and hands full with every new snack Betty seemed to always prepare for him, and every night she would sneak him back in once she knew her parents were retired to their bedroom for the night. Their system seemed to be flawless.

Today was a low-key Wednesday night and the first time they had the house entirely to themselves, since the Coopers had yet another late night at the newspaper, the two teens finally enjoying some peace and quiet without closed doors and hush whispers. Betty was sprawled over the bed, text books and colorful markers all around her as the blonde girl was trying to finish her homework, elbow holding herself up and chin resting on her palm, head aching over an answer sheet and calves crossing and uncrossing behind her. Jughead was over the window with blinds shut – he had made Betty promise that his secret would stay between them – sitting comfortably on her white desk chair and having his long legs crossed at the ankles, outstretched against the wooden window frame, while typing furiously on his laptop that rested on his lap. Since no one was at home he didn’t have to lurk at his usual booth at Pop’s. Plus, he found Betty’s presence a very good remedy for writer’s block.

“What are your thoughts on artificial intelligence?” Betty wandered out loud, disturbing the casual silence, with eyes still glued on the paper in front of her.

Jughead’s running fingers came to a momentary halt and he blinked a couple of times to adjust his mind around her question. Not being fazed at all and going on with his typing, he answered. “I mean machines that probably are cleverer than half, if not the entire, human population? How will this affect humanity in the long run?” he voiced his opinion, his computer screen illuminating his frown.

“So I’m against it…” Betty muttered, putting the pencil she was holding in use.

“I’d use skeptical. Against is a very strong statement.” He offered back, rewriting an introductory sentence about Cheryl’s and Jason’s odd sibling bond.

“Hm.” She titled her head in thought and tapped the edge of her pencil a couple of times over the floral notebook next to her, while going over the sentence she just wrote. “Skeptical it is then.” The girl concluded and erased any sign of lead under that question with the back of her pencil. “Which chapter are you on?” she asked him, as she was conducting a small paragraph about her so called opinion.

“Just started six. Had inspiration these days.” Jughead let her know subtly.

“Cool.” Betty nodded to herself, moving to the next question. “Which changes society has to undertake in order to adjust to this new, robotic filled reality?” she went on to read out loud.

Without even stopping to breathe, he answered quickly. “Reforms of the civil law so to include robotic machines.”

Betty scribed that down quickly, her lips forming a reverse smile in genuine awe; she would have never thought of that.  “How is people’s approach to the subject? Are there any examples from literature and/or theater, cinema etc. that approach it?”

“Easy.” Jughead scoffed, so done with the lack of originality in teachers’ quizzes. “Terminator was pictured as fearful, Robocop was designed as a sign of hope; it seems that there is only black and white in people’s mind, not in between. As for how ethical this whole ‘humans playing God and creating super-creatures’ is? Well, Arthur Clarke shared that concern in Space Odyssey years ago but still there isn’t a satisfactory answer.” He concluded and Betty’s lips let a huff of admiration, struggling to keep up with his fast pace while quoting him on paper.

Satisfied, she looked at her finished science paper and grabbed her neon yellow folder to put it neatly inside.

“Am I done doing your homework?” came Jughead’s sarcastic comment, Betty rolling her eyes amused behind his back.

“Yes. And thank you.” She replied in a teasing tone.

“And anyway in what world is Betty Cooper unable to fill in some simple, let alone piece of cake for her, questions?” he went on, briefly taking his tired  eyes off the computer screen to look at her over his shoulder.

“I was bored and wanted to be done with it.” She flinched adorably, throwing her books recklessly to the floor and falling back to lie on her duvet.

“So you just used me?” Jughead turned his torso more to face her, narrowing his eyes in fake offence, their color shining with mischief.

Betty let a melodic laugh that put a smirk on his lips. “Pretty much, yeah.” She admitted with another round of laughter, once she saw him pretend to curse under his breath in fake self-pity, before she was left there just smiling, taking him all in with her doe eyes and taking a weird liking at the way he looked in a plain black t-shirt and dark blue sweatpants, one of the rarest times seeing him this homey and casual.

“It’s just that with everything that happened, Jason’s funeral, Archie, Ms. Grundy, my mom… my mind can’t really focus on homework, you know?” her eyes took their usual melancholic shade once again and she turned her stare away, feeling the need to pick on some loose threats of her jeans but knowing his eyes were hot and heavy on her profile.

“You have one mind and that is a crowd of people to think of.” Jughead sighed, wanting to ease some of her heartbreak, if possible. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he hesitantly asked.

Betty exhaled the rather large breath she was holding. “No, it doesn’t matter.” She turned to face him again, smile in tack. “It truly doesn’t.” she insisted with a vigorous shake of her head and smiled more, once seeing him unconvinced. “Everything’s in the past and I am really ready to move on.” She announced cheerfully, raising her slim, jean clad, legs to rest on the white headboard of her bed, sliding her arms over her head and stretching blissfully, like a cat enjoying the warm sunrays of June.

And even if he didn’t entirely believe her, Jughead knew there was a rich dose of truth in her words; she eventually was going to be perfectly ok. So he smiled that adorable boyish smile he always had reserved for her and her only, not really able to restrain himself when she was being that cute, with bright pink toe nails drumming against her floral wall.

“What’s so funny?” her voice made him avert his eyes from her legs and run them up to her body until they reached her face, silly smile on his and her lips.

“You.” He let with a chuckle and a shake of his head, putting his laptop as a shield in front of his face. He didn’t know why he was acting like a nervous spaz around her and he hated it with all his passion.

“I’m glad that you find me ridiculous.” She teased and took her tongue out at him, Jughead sending her an amused – slash flirty, but he wouldn’t dare admit that to himself – glare under his eyelashes over his laptop. “Honestly, those two days are probably the most I’ve seen you smiling all those years that we know each other.” Betty smirked, feeling a small flattering on her chest every time she saw the corners of his lips tug into even the smallest of grins.

Jughead knew that and he had a very good theory as to why this was happening but he wouldn’t say that out loud, and especially to her. So, he just smirked and started his typing again, offering one of his usual sardonic responses. “Oh, you know me, big fan of morbid murder scenes and intense people drama, which we have plenty nowadays.” He frowned teasingly and titled his head up to look at her, Betty’s eye roll in sync with her rolling off her bed.

“Ha-ha.” She let a dry laugh and got rid of her dusty pink cardigan, the loose silk white camisole she wore underneath complimenting nicely her shoulders and collarbones which didn’t go unnoticed by him. “I’m gonna make some snacks. I’m assuming you in?” she announced walking to the door.

“Please and thank you.” Jughead replied with a delightful groan, cause really at this point he was just a sucker for anything this girl made, and she laughed before disappearing down the hallway. Her cheerful hopes down the stairs and light humming of a foreign tune made Jughead smile against the letters of the document in front of him and he went on with his previous task. Living with Betty Cooper wasn’t so bad after all.

“Shh! We’re gonna get busted!” Betty whisper – shouted, with her hushed voice trembling from laughter as her finger came over her lips to signalize what she was saying.

“I can’t believe you vomited on your dad’s lap during family Christmas lunch!” Jughead was holding his stomach laughing his heart out at the picture but trying to be as quiet as possible, a five feet ten, all limbs, dark guy rolled up in two shaking from silent giggles like a cheerful toddler. “I’m not even mentioning the you being drunk part; that is a thing I deeply regret missing in my life.” A new series of laughter hit him with more force and a throaty chuckle escaped his lips, Betty’s eyes widening in fear and the blonde grabbed one of the numerous pillows from behind her head and smothered him with it, feeling the vibrations of his chuckles against her palms making her not able to hold back her giggles too at that unusual sight of him.

It was Friday night, way over midnight but they didn’t even bother with time, and the two of them were lying casually on Betty’s bed playing a game of twenty questions. It was all normal at first, with Jughead’s favorite girl sneaking him in her house once her parents were asleep and them starting their usual chat about their day which usually led to deep conversations until one of them was soundly asleep. Tonight, though, it seemed that both of them were in an awfully good mood.

“It was my first time drinking something even remotely close to alcohol and, seriously, how can you laugh at my misery? My grandma was appalled! And of course I don’t need to mention my mom’s reaction, you’ve met her.” Betty fell back into her pillows and focused her eyes on the ceiling, the events of last year’s Christmas day still vivid in her mind. “Kevin really owes me for this.” She promised in fake threat.

Jughead let a series of small coughs, unburying his face from under the pillow that smelled like her and focusing on the ceiling too, amused smile still on his lips. “Thank you, Bets, really. That was the best thing you’ve ever told me.” He coughed again and fixed his hair, or rather messed his raven locks more, and Betty turned to reply with a mean comeback but failed. It was one of the rarest times she was seeing him without his trademark beanie – in fact that was actually the first cause every other night he would take it off after each had been settled into their “beds” – and she had to admit he looked smocking without it too, if not more so.

“Ask away, I’ll handle it.” He scoffed amused, knowing it was her turn to fire a question, feeling her gaze on him in the dimly lit room before turning left over his pillow and coming face to face with her. He had left a safe distance between the two of them – mostly for his sake and his mental stability – but even that wasn’t enough to restrain him from getting lost into the most beautiful pair of blue eyes he had seen in his life.

Betty bit her lip – mostly because she wasn’t expecting his stare to be so intense over her – but asked anyway. “Why do you always wear that beanie?”

He lied; he couldn’t handle it. In the sea of questions she could have asked, the girl responsible for some of his recent sleepless nights went and asked this one. Jughead took a deep breath and focused his eyes on the pillow that now had fallen between them. Of course he would answer; he had learnt that keeping secrets from Betty was a rather difficult task, let alone lying.

“My mom had sewed that for me when I was five.” Jughead confessed and felt a lump forming in his throat but pushed it away, before putting a brave face and facing her again.

She just smiled sweetly at him, knowing that whatever happened with his parents was still really hard on him and hating herself for not noticing sooner. “Well, it does really suit you.” She nodded with a girly pout and ruffled his mop of hair lightly, Jughead bucking down from her touch and groaning a chuckle, grateful that she understood him and knew when to change the subject. “Your turn.” She instructed, rolling over to rest on her elbows, closing the distance between them by an inch.

“Well, well…” he sighed in thought “Okay, what are the things about me that you particularly like and what is the one thing you don’t like?” Jughead went kind of bold there but it was only fair after a question like that. Plus, her laugh as an answer to his challenging smirk was a delight to his ears.

“One? Only one? That’s an understatement there, my friend.” Betty started teasing him and he smacked her head lightly with the pillow, making her squeal and fire back a punch on his shoulder, Jughead delivering another pillow smack on her back before she knocked him off with a rather strong hit of her elbow against his ribs that made him leave a groan of pain, all while they were lowly giggling like happy fools.

“So I don’t like how stubborn you are and you have an ego as big as your head and you don’t ask for help and you’re secretive, awfully prideful, messy as hell—” Jughead let an offended ‘hey’ at that but Betty ignored him and continued listing things with the help of her fingers “you can drive anyone and especially me to the wall, you lose track of time—”

Jughead put his palm over her mouth to stop her, feeling her plump lips against his skin for the first time and indeed losing track of time and place at that very moment. “Do you even like me at all?” he used sarcasm as his chronic defense and with great difficulty removed his hand from her lips, leaving them parted and weirdly begging for more.

Betty collected herself quickly – Juggie was her friend, she shouldn’t even go there – and found her easy going, teasing self again, the one she always had around him. “Sometimes yeah.” She nodded with sass and he shook his head in amusement, rolling his eyes at how much spank she had in her and at how much he came to like that.

“In all honesty, though” she paused and adjusted herself on the bed, elbow resting on her pillow and head titling to rest on her palm, her golden locks falling over one side making Jughead fight back the urge to play with them “you are a pretty amazing person. And I’m really glad that I get to learn more about you every day.” She smiled genuinely at him and he did too, nodding once before resting a palm behind his head and turning his happy eyes to the ceiling, thinking that he definitely had it bad for the first time in his life.

“Sooo as a well-deserved payback for that…” Betty started and Jughead internally groaned “tell me, Jughead Jones the Third, who was your first kiss.” She gave him a challenging smirk, feeling a light blush starting to form on her cheeks but she wasn’t going to back out, she was curious to know – or that’s what she told herself – and she saw him closing his eyes and huff in exasperation, Betty taking pride at the fact that she was one of the very few people that brought Jughead out of his comfort zone. “And no” she continued in warning “I don’t mean silly kids’ stuff, I mean like a proper kiss.”

“Betty…” he whined through his teeth, eyes still closed and frown lines between his eyebrows deep, really not wanting to share something like that with her, first of all because it was embarrassing and second, well, it was really embarrassing.

“Are you blushing?” she squealed in surprise and full on fluffiness and it was indeed very true, Jughead could feel his skin starting to burn from the back of his neck slowly all the way to his cheeks. “Come on, it can’t be that bad!” she encouraged him with a light shake of his shoulder.

“It was awful.” He groaned like he was in pain and she shrieked a laugh, immediately a hand flying to her lips to cover the sound. “Okay, I need full disclosure here and you’re not allowed to laugh.” He pointed a warning finger in all seriousness and Betty smacked her lips shut, nodding and taking a breath to calm herself.

“Well, it wasn’t really my initiative, I was caught off guard…” Jughead flinched, remembering the dreadful event two summers ago that scared him for life.

“Wait, did somebody actually jump on you?” Betty’s voice went an octave higher in shock and amusement and full curiosity to learn more and he hesitated by nodded. “Shut up! Who was it?!” she begged for more, drumming her palms on his arm in anticipation.

“You’re taking this to the grave.” Jughead warned her once more, and she huffed at how ridiculous he was being. “It was… Ethel.” He chocked in a breath and flinched again, even more now.

“WHAT?! NOO!” Betty fell back against her pillow, a hand coming to cover her lips that opened in shock, feeling amused mostly but a part of her a tad jealous?

“It was awful” he repeated again and closed his eyes to shake away the images “face first, way too much tongue…” he made an expression of vomiting and Betty brought her duvet to her lips to muffle her now hysterical laughter at his face expressions. “I remember I stood there like a statue and when it was over I ran so fast, I arrived home with asthma!” he ended the story with a scoff, feeling second hand embarrassment for his younger self and wishing to somehow erase that entire day from his memories, the day he vowed not to kiss a girl ever again.

“Wow!” Betty lay there stunned, resting a palm on her chest and feeling her raging breath calming down. “That is some first kiss story.” She admitted teasingly.

“Oh please, I die of embarrassment every time I think of it.” Jughead scoffed, narrowing his icy eyes to the ceiling. “Thank God, she never mentioned it or tried anything like that again.” His eyes widened in fear.

“Well, on the bright side, not many guys seem to cause such reactions.” Betty offered half-teasingly, half-true because really she could picture girls going crazy at the sight of him. His bad boy, Judd Nelson vibe really did something to the female population, she thought, or maybe it was just her.

“Not helping.” Jughead replied sarcastically, turning to face her. “And since we are at it” his face suddenly lightened up, his self-pity long forgotten “how about you miss Cooper?”

“Oh no, no, no!” she refused with a vigorous shake of her head. “You don’t get to do that!”

“Says who? There are no such rules!” Jughead objected with a teasing smirk of his own. “Come on then what about your first kiss?” he didn’t really want to make her feel uncomfortable nor did he want to know all the gory details about how dreamy it was and how Archie was an amazing kisser – because seriously the two of them had been best friends since forever, he had to be her first kiss – but he was masochistically curious about it to say the truth.

“Well, my very first kiss—” Betty started and tried to bluff but he cut her off.

“You said so yourself, no silly kids’ stuff. Plus, I know.” He raised an eyebrow.

“You do?” she asked surprised; even she, herself, hardly remembered her first barely kiss.

“Reggie. Fourth grade. It was Archie’s birthday party at Pop’s and you were eating a sundae. He smacked his lips at yours and you spit a very generous mouthful of vanilla ice cream to his face.” Jughead told the story with a pleased smile and Betty’s lips fell open in surprise at how he still remembered all that. “Honestly, that was the highlight of that day.” And that was true because as heartbroken as ten year old Jughead felt seeing another boy, that boy being Reggie, kissing his crush, he felt the happiest kid alive upon seeing her reaction before skipping happily to him and Archie. “Now, I was very sharing with you. Plus, it can’t be worse than mine!”

“Fine!” Betty snapped in annoyance; she should have known that this was going to have a boomerang effect on her. “You’re taking this to the grave.” She repeated his words and Jughead rolled his eyes.

“Is it Sherriff Keller?” he boldly asked with his usual creepy - interrogating expression.

“What!? Ewww!” the blonde made a face of disgust, pushing him away by his shoulder.

He laughed. “I’m just messing with you.” He admitted and sent her a “spill” glare.

She rolled her eyes, annoyed. “It was Veronica.” She shrugged, not looking at him.

Jughead opened his mouth to say the answer he had already prepared but last minute his mind caught up with her words and registered that she indeed had said something entirely else than he thought she would say, making him close his mouth abruptly, open it again and close it again at a loss of words.

“Veronica? As in Veronica Lodge?” the words burst out of his mouth, the boy not actually believing his ears. “Veronica got here a couple of months ago and, like, she is a girl?” well, generally Jughead prided in him being a very open-minded person and, he truly was, but Betty Cooper kissing a girl was a little hard to grasp.

“Both statements are true.” Betty replied matter-of-factly, hesitantly raising her eyes to look at him, waiting for his reaction.

“Are you trying to tell me something, Bets?” Jughead narrowed his baby blues at her and titled his head lightly to the side, feeling his stomach drop a little in disappointment if that meant what he thought it meant. Whatever makes her happy, he truthfully thought at the end.

Betty flinched at the misunderstanding. “No! I didn’t mean it like that; I’m just saying what happened!”

“Wow!” it was his turn now to turn flabbergasted. “If I ask how it was, would it be total douche behavior?” he did really wanna know… for science, of course.

The girl next to him laughed. “It was not bad; Veronica certainly has moves.” She admitted with an appreciative nod, Jughead staring with his lips slightly parted as his mind was working around the new information. He truly would not be able to see B and V together with the same eyes ever again.

“Wow…” he muttered again under his breath.

Betty smacked his chest with the back of her palm. “Stop imagining it.” She laughed and he opened his mouth to say something but she bet him to it. “And no, you’re not allowed to include this in your novel.” He pouted and she grinned, shaking her head at his unexpected behavior.

His chuckle was interrupted by a yawn. “I think we humiliated ourselves enough for a night.”

Betty smiled at how adorable he was, trying to keep his eyes open but failing as they got heavier and heavier, the boy blinking a few times to fight his fatigue away but clearly it was a losing battle. “Yeah…Good night, Juggie.” She whispered but she wasn’t sure if he actually heard her, Betty moving as smoothly as possible to grab his blanket from the floor and cover them both, since they were lying over her floral duvet. She adjusted her pillow more under her head and sneaked her hands between her curly hair and her lavender pillowcase, taking a minute or two to stare at him through the darkness, all relaxed and without any of his usual walls around him as a shield from human interaction, just simple Jughead, clutching a pillow to his chest and letting even, soft breaths through his adorably parted lips.

And Betty felt a tugging at her chest, a tugging she had previously experienced a couple of times upon seeing Archie in the past, but that wasn’t the case with Jughead, it couldn’t be, she made herself believe so to not spend a sleepless night stirring and turning. The boy next to her moved subconsciously further down and closer to her, his head falling left so he was inches away from her face, and there was that smile again on her lips, that silly smile, as Betty moved a finger to brush away the deranged black waves that fell against his eyes before running it lightly over his jawline and making him hum in his sleep. Betty Cooper might indeed have had a sleepless night after all.

“Gotcha!” a cheerful Betty Cooper popped her head from the threshold of the kitchen, causing Jughead to do a sudden one-eighty, an almost empty bowl of food resting on his hand, fork in the air and hints of spaghetti spilling out of his mouth as his eyes were rounded in shock that he got caught.

“Juggie!” she scoffed a laugh. “You already had two overloaded plates of pasta carbonara and you’re still going? I thought you only did that with burgers at Pop’s.” she came in the room, resting a hip against the counter in front of him. “Plus, that was my dinner!”

The tall boy shrugged adorably, forming a sheepish smirk with his full mouth. “I guess I’m sorry?” he finally swallowed and Betty rolled her eyes. “And even though I could eat burgers for the rest of my life, no, my appetite includes any form of fine cuisine.” Or any of what the blonde girl next door prepared with her magic hands.

“It’s fine.” She waved a hand to brush it off, opening the fridge to peak through its contents. “I didn’t want it anyway; I’ll have a salad or something. Don’t want Cheryl over my head going on and on every day about how much of a size zero I’m not.” The girl used one of her signature grimaces, being fed up with the captain of the River Vixens but bottom line falling into the trap of embracing society’s standards about cheerleaders and girls in general, something that she felt guilty about.

Jughead’s eyebrows rose in disbelief at how much of a bitch Cheryl Blossom could actually be, saying those things about anyone and especially Betty who was stunning and totally model-material regarding her looks and body type in his humble opinion. “Screw that evil ginger!” he scoffed in his usual apathetic manner and slouched back on the counter. “You know what they say about gingers having no soul? Well, Cheryl bombshell is the epitome of that statement.” He went on in his clever tone and Betty couldn’t help but laugh.

“Uh, I might agree with you on that.” She offered her aloof response, closing the metallic door of the fridge with her hip. “So, what I came here for in the first place, I’m doing laundry. I gathered some of your shirts too but I don’t know if there’s something else you wanna throw in.” She exited the room and Jughead followed close behind her, down the narrow corridor next to the staircase and into the laundry room at the very back.

“You shouldn’t have, I’m fine.” He spoke somehow uneasily, not really used to that much of attention or being taken care of.

“There’s this thing called laundry machine and it actually does wash clothes by itself so don’t feel so entitled to return your gratitude to me.” Betty teased him and he snorted a laugh, doing that adorable nose flick that the girl across him came to love. “Take off that too.” She pointed to his jeans and busied herself with pulling out some detergents off a cupboard to her left, Jughead’s eyes growing wide in an instant. Did she actually want him to strip for her?

Betty’s ponytail swayed as she snapped her head to face him again, doe eyes looking clueless and way too innocent for her to mean something like that. “The shirt you have around your waist, Juggie.” he heard the words and his hands fisted the red flannel that fell on his sides, eyes blinking a couple of times to help his mind return to its previous zen state. “I’m washing colors; I should put this in too.”

“Yeah, uh, okay.” He quickly unfastened it and gave it to her, his palms sweaty from his short lived – thankfully – moment of awkwardness.

“Jug, there’re two buttons missing from this.” Betty’s candy cane voice turned even more sugary, finding kinda adorable his goofiness and the ‘so what?’ eyebrow he raised at her statement. She just shook her head and let a girly giggle. “Hold on, I’m going to fix this.” She disappeared off somewhere not before instructing him to unload the plastic basket next to his feet inside the washing machine.

He did so, of course, grabbing the basket by its handles in fear of coming into contact with any of Betty’s clothes or, worse, any of her underwear and throwing all the garments inside, thinking that if a couple of months ago somebody had told him that he would be living with Betty Cooper and doing laundry with her, he would seriously have considered him a lunatic. He went to leave the basket to its previous place on the floor but something red on top of his brown boots caught his attention and bended his knees to grab it. A totally bad idea considering that he regretted it the minute he understood what it was, because there he was Jughead Jones holding a red bra – a burgundy very lacey and very see-though bralet to be exact, not that Jughead knew any of the difference – that belonged to no other than the infamous blonde who even without her presence and her perfume could turn his mind into a worthless piece of musk.

Ever since that Friday night he accidentally had fallen asleep at the blonde’s side, Betty refused to let him get back to sleeping on the floor which led to them sharing a bed every night and having Jughead deal with, up to now, foreign for him mind and body reactions. Something that was happening at that very moment too, the boy literally feeling his raging blush coloring all of his face at the sight of the lace that was tangled around his slender fingers. He felt surprised, that Betty Cooper actually owned something like that, and possibly, maybe – honestly, he didn’t even know, he had never ever felt that before with anyone – a little turned on at the thought of seeing her with that thing on. Although it might have been a pain putting it on and taking it off, Jughead briefly thought, examining the almost invisible little clasps at the back in a typical clueless boyish fashion. God, stop thinking about taking things off!

But bottom line he was feeling so beyond ashamed that he suddenly had such thoughts for her, her that he knew all his life and she was such a precious sweetheart, or even worse, that he couldn’t seem to be able to take his eyes nor his hands from that red lace. Something had awakened in him, something he never knew he would experience as a person, as a man, but only from his author point of view and that scared the hell out of him.

“Jug…” Betty’s voice came and he jumped, hands trembling and letting the tiny garment fall down again, now even more ashamed that the person that made him feel so many new things was surely going to be disgusted by him and his primal tendencies. He wasn’t the definition of a gentleman but he prided to be way more mannered and thoughtful regarding women.

“I’m sorry” he started stuttering, bending down in reflex to gather the tiny undergarment and his dignity, Betty doing the same once watching with wide, ashamed eyes what was all about “I didn’t mean to pry on your—ouch!” their foreheads collided with a thud, Jughead’s head bouncing back with a flinch of pain and frustration at how much more of a fool he could make himself to be.

“It’s fine, don’t sweat it, it’s fine.” She kept on muttering like a rehearsed mantra under her breath, rubbing the spot on her forehead that certainly was starting to redden from the hit only to match the bright red blush that decorated her cheeks. She hadn’t put anything remotely private of hers in that basket on purpose, for exactly that reason, for not risking Jughead seeing anything he wasn’t supposed to see and her dying of utter humiliation right on the spot, because she wasn’t that attractive or sexy for that matter and she didn’t want to see another boy that she had maybe starting to like reject her again.  So she hid the damn thing inside the back pocket of her jeans and closed her arms insecurely around herself, not daring to look him in the eyes.

Jughead licked his lips to find the right words, upon seeing how defensive she got. “I wasn’t snooping through your stuff. It just dropped off the pile of clothes and I picked it up, I’m sorry, please don’t think anything bad about it.” He pleaded with sad blue eyes and Betty dropped hers to the ground, replying with a small voice.

“I’m not thinking anything of you…” she admitted truthfully, kicking the machine that separated them lightly with her heel of her converse just out of spite. “I’m just embarrassed that you saw…that.” Her grimace and full on doe eyes, had him smiling at how adorably cute she was.

“Well, my experience with girls might be limited to none but I’m not a Neanderthal, I do know that all of you wear such stuff.” Jughead used his self-sarcasm to make the situation lighter and cheer her up. “Plus I could have found something worse like pink razors or, God Forbid, tampons, just everyday things that gross out any macho guy that respects himself and his unsuppressed masculinity, right?” he went on in his typical sardonic manner, Betty cracking a smile and shaking her head at how actually amazing he was.

“Get out of here, you dork, and let me do laundry.” She pushed him out of the way, lovey-dovey smile intact while messing with some buttons on the washing machine panel.

“Yes, traditional gender roles!” Jughead threw his head back and groaned in fake delight before straightening up his back. “And like the man I am I’m gonna go out and hunt our food.” He announced like a bad caricature of a caveman.

“Are you really?” Betty played on amused, raising an eyebrow.

Jughead slouched back to his normal posture, resting an arm against the wooden threshold. “No, not really.” Betty chuckled loudly at his beaten expression. “But I’m going to buy you the most delicious, extra filled burger that I’ll find at Pop’s along with those Texas bacon cheese fries you like.” He said with a sweet smile that Betty returned biting her down lip because she was scared her face would break with how much she was smiling right now.

“And a milkshake?” she asked shyly with her look under her eyelashes that had him sold.

“And a milkshake.” Jughead nodded once, being at her service. “Vanilla as always?”

“Nah…” Betty shook her head and said in a sweet, almost flirty voice. “I’m up for some strawberry right now.”

Jughead smirked and winked, leaving Betty behind to deal with a slightly big problem of butterflies in her stomach.

“Alright, I’m taking a shower.” Betty announced from her vanity and Jughead nodded to nobody else but himself as he was scrolling through his phone, back resting on the headboard of her bed. It was Tuesday morning and the two teens were once again alone in the house, Betty’s parents leaving in the middle of the night for the newspaper since some shockingly news about Jason Blossom’s case had sprung to life.

The blonde damsel of Jughead’s stories moved quietly around the room gathering her stuff before she made her way to the bathroom and he finally made the decision to get out of bed and start getting ready for another specifically long day at Riverdale High, filled with gossip and hushed whispers. The atmosphere would be a tad heavy today, the larky boy thought, just like it was in this room since they had woken up, an air of awkwardness and teenage angst lingering between the otherwise drama-free duo.

Because today Jughead and Betty didn’t wake up like they always used to; wrapped in each of their covers and to their respective sides. They woke up all wrapped up with each other and in a tangled up mess of limbs, not knowing where he ended and where she began.

The blipping of his alarm along with the simple chime of her phone receiving a text, that being her mom informing her about hers and her dad’s whereabouts, were what brought the two friends away from dreamland two hours ago, both groggily cracking their eyes open and freaking out internally at the state they were in. Jughead was lying on his back with both his arms around Betty, slender fingers laced together on her waist over the cotton material of her grey t-shirt and Betty was practically on top of him, head resting on his chest, an arm being thrown over his stomach and fingers even lingering on the small patch of bare flesh on his hipbone that his rolled up t-shirt left uncovered, not to mention one of her miles long legs that was comfortably rested between his bony ones, delicious hitched over a part of him that Jughead didn’t quite know functioned before those days spent with her.

Their reaction was straight out of a comic book, both flying far back to either side of the bed and blushing scarlet without knowing what to do or say since they’d never been in a situation like this before. They behaved really maturely about it and decided not to exchange a single word all morning, their only communication being Betty informing him that her parents were gone and that she was going to take a shower just minutes ago, both ashamed to even look each other in the eye anymore, like if they did, a ticking grenade was going to explode between them.

Jughead sighed and kicked the covers off his legs, momentarily focusing on the space between them where Betty’s smooth leg was lying for God knows how many hours, the boy mentally slapping himself for envisioning again and again their up close and personal morning. He got out of bed grumpily and run a hand through his untamed waves, deciding that it was time to stop brooding over it, they just cuddled, it was nothing and obviously it meant nothing to her so end of story, everything was cool.

Seeing as Betty was going to take a couple more minutes in the shower, Jughead decided that it was high time he got dressed for the day, quickly taking off his t-shirt and getting rid of his sweatpants, after making sure the blinds were intact and Archie wasn’t getting a private show, but the abruptly crack of the door had him once again deep in humiliation for the second time this morning. Someone up there must have had great fun torturing him.

“My mom is here!” Betty Cooper stormed in the room like wild wind, hair disheveled and horrified expression shading her pretty features, Jughead’s heart starting to pound in his chest at the news but mostly at the fact that he was, well, naked in front of her.

“Betty! I’m not decent!” his shaky voice raised an octave and subconsciously his hands flew to cover his manhood over his boxers, at least thankful that his choice of underwear was plane grey and not his pizza print boxers that he loved but wasn’t exactly supposed to be seen by people. “And obviously you aren’t too.” His words slowly died on his lips once he noticed her full appearance, her pajama shirt still intact but the matching shorts nowhere to be found underneath it, just a long view of legs just for him. His eyes couldn’t help but scan her lower part, Jughead gulping once, twice even three times in difficulty at the sight of her tanned legs and he felt something stir where his hands still laid protectively.

“God! I’m sorry!” the blonde groaned flushing dark red again, doing an one-eighty to face the door and turn her back at him, not helping at all with the boy’s situation since her gorgeous behind was in full display for him, semi covered with her shirt and semi revealing a dark peppermint green lace peaking from under it. Jughead’s head snapped to the left in reflex, feeling a tad of guilt for seeing his long term friend like that and secretly loving it. His eyebrows rose and his lips formed a soundless “oh man”, cause really when did Betty stop being Betty, all-American sweet girl next door, and became that hot woman? All he remembered from their swims at Sweetwater River when they were kids was a chubby little girl with always the brightest choices of swimwear. Now all he could see was female curves that, damn, were a sight to look at for days.

“It’s that I was about to get in the shower but I heard mom’s car rounding the corner, the tires make a hissing sound so I recognize them, and I panicked, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to storm out on you and like that…” Betty kept rambling on, biting her lip nervously, because really today wasn’t the best day for them. Not that she was complaining that he saw him without his buggy dark clothes. It seemed that they did hide a lot of interesting things, Betty thought and blushed even more, biting her lip harder and filling thankful that he couldn’t see her face right now.  

The sound of footsteps jogging up the stairs interrupted any train of her thought, naughty or nice. Betty actually feared for their lives.

“She’s coming up!” she freaked out in a shrieking whisper, running to a terrified Jughead that desperately was trying to find a place to hide while gathering in panic the stuff he had thrown around. “Under the bed, under the bed!” Betty instructed, pushing on his bare shoulders, him easily slouching down and rolling into his hiding spot, the girl kicking with her foot his combat boots under the bed with him too and throwing his jeans with force against his bare chest, Jughead letting an “oomph” of surprise just as the bedroom door opened and an imposing Alice Cooper appeared.

“Mom, hey!” Betty greeted her way too cheerfully and even Jughead raised a disbelieving eyebrow in unison with her mother. “I-I thought you were at the paper.” She moved to the bed as if she was fixing her deranged covers, but only just to be within reaching distance in case her mom came over to inspect her room further, giving Jughead a view of her panties in all their glory, the raven haired boy dropping his jeans to his eyes and squinting them close, praying to God to blind him cause after this image he surely didn’t know if he could go on with his life.

“Yeah, I’m not staying. Just dropped by to take some papers your father forgot.” Alice informed her in her usual cold manner, frowning when noticing that her daughter’s focus wasn’t her but the floor next to her. “Are you alright?”

“Of course, yeah, I am, totally fine!” Betty babbled and Jughead could feel his life ending, one, because of all that he endured that fine morning and two because of the fact that Betty was a terrible liar. “Just getting ready for school.” She tried to sound aloof and grabbed a pair of jeans from her wardrobe, jumping lightly to slide them on her legs. He wasn’t going to admit it but Jughead did pout upon seeing them finally covered.

“Hm.” Alice hummed suspiciously. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it smelled like a boy in here.” He tried to catch her in her lie and the stray boy under the bedframe could have bet money that they were busted.

“B-boy?” Betty chocked on her breath and laughed uneasily. “Mom! Come on! How could I have a boy in my room without you noticing?” Betty scoffed like that was impossible, shaky fingers clumsily pushing up her window for fresh air to fill the room in reflex to her words and Alice seemed to back off, even though she wasn’t entirely sure about her daughter’s mental state.

“Alright.” She shrugged. “Since I am here, I’ll drive you to school.” She offered.

“Mom, no, I’ll walk—” Betty tried to object but her mother bet her to it.

“Betty, put a shirt and take your things. I’ll be in the car.” She left no room for further discussion and left the room, both her daughter and the boy she was hiding letting the breath they were holding.

Jughead popped from under the bed but the girl shushed him, twirling around like a mad woman not wanting to waste any time, because she knew her mom would be storming in her room again if she wasn’t downstairs in seconds.

“There are spare keys inside the second drawer of the dresser next to the front door.” Betty curled her sneakers and her bag to her chest while giving him hushed instructions. “Don’t forget to lock it behind you. I’ll see you at school.” She snatched her jacket and a shirt and walked quickly out of the room to get changed before Jughead heard her hop down the stairs and minutes later Alice Cooper’s car speeding down the road. And just like that he fell back on the floor contemplating life and thinking that getting involved with a girl in any sense was indeed very tiring.

It was an hour later that the Jones boy passed the wide entrance of Riverdale High with headphones intact and loud music blasting through his skull, blocking away the offensive whispering of the people around him about yet again Jason Blossom. He went straight to his locker and started rearranging some of his books, his eyes wandering around and catching a glimpse of her from across the corridor doing the same. As if she knew his baby blues were on her, Betty looked at him and she smiled apologetically to him, mouthing a sorry for the crazy morning they had. He just brushed it off with a shake of his head and gave her his usual smirk, not really managing to stop his eyes from wandering further down to take in her appearance. Amongst all the blue of her jeans and her sweater something plaid red was peaking from her collar and her waist and his eyebrows shot up in shock. On an onlooker it might look like she was spicing up her outfit with some color but to somebody that knew it would look so strange since Betty Cooper didn’t own even a single plaid shirt and that very one was something that Jughead Jones was sporting day after day.

He subtly pointed to his collar praying that he understood her signal but Betty just looked down at her in confusion before looking back up at him and shrugging in a silent “what?”. Some girls from her science class approached her and their eye conversation cut short, Jughead pushing his text books for first period in his bag and closing his locker, before sprinting to the blonde’s side.

Kevin was a tad faster than him. “Hey, Betty, cool shirt. Isn’t it Jughead’s?” he raised an eyebrow looking between the two of them, Betty’s crimson red blush appearing to her cheeks again, now coming to understand her gaffe. Somewhere between her morning humiliation and her hurry so for her mom not to suspect anything more she had ended up picking the wrong shirt, that shirt being Jughead’s.

“Yeah, she was cold so I lent it to her.” The other boy came to her rescue, nodding down at her with a cute side smirk, Betty agreeing with a vigorous shake of her head.

Thankfully the bell ringing didn’t leave any space for more conversation and the three friends started walking towards their chemistry class. And as Kevin was in front of them bubbling happily about his very first official date with Joaquin, Jughead, feeling rather bold after the events of that morning, placed a soft palm at the small of Betty’s back, leaning to whisper next to her hear. “You look good with my shirt on.” He complimented her and saw even her freckles turn a lovely shade of red before offering him her sweetest grin and whispering a shy thank you back. Yes, getting involved with a girl was tiring but in Betty’s case it was all worth it.

Where are you? Please just let me know you’re ok. I’m worried about you.

Betty’s trembling thumps typed quickly the message and she pressed ‘send’, the new blue bubble that appeared on her phone screen joining the three other unanswered ones that held a similar content. She waited two seconds and then threw her phone on the duvet next to her with venom, snapping her eyes shut and letting fresh tears run down her already soaked cheeks. She wasn’t crying because she had been yelled at for barely an hour by her dear mother nor because she was grounded for the rest of time.

She was crying because he left and because he probably wouldn’t want to speak to her ever again.

It had been the perfect afternoon. Betty had done amazing in her cheerleading practice, even earning a compliment for the very first time from Cheryl Blossom herself, and once practice was over, Jughead was there waiting out of the school gym, left leg bended by the knee and resting to the wall behind him while he was watching something on his phone, looking dangerously handsome in some black attire, insisting on buying her a triple extra sundae at Pop’s since he now had official employee discount, the old man finally offering the boy the job he desperately needed.

Today it was the first time they hugged. Betty couldn’t really help but jump in his arms with a happy squeal upon hearing the news, because she knew first-hand how hard everything was on him and because his happy smile was the best thing she’d seen in her life and the true highlight of her day. And of course she got to have that sinful sundae – with extra topping, as he requested – the two of them spending hours at Pop’s, just talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company.  

Today was the first time they held hands; like proper hand holding not the usual brush of touch sometimes they happened to have. They were walking back to her house, their chat animated and still going strong, with Betty seeing Jughead for the first time being so optimistic and genuinely trouble-free and loving so much that side of him that wished for everything to come in his life the way he dreamed, because he deserved it, he of all of them. And just as she was busy thinking how happiness suited him and he looked even more handsome under the stars that night, she felt his long slim fingers dance around hers ever so lightly, before finding their place at the space between hers and locking there like they had clicked, like they were designed to fit perfectly with hers and hers only. Betty eased his nerves with a bright welcoming smile and a light squeeze of her palm against his and Jughead exhaled a nervous sigh through his smiley lips, glad that they were taking it one step at a time and she was following his pace.

And today was the day it all came crushing down between them as far as they reached the porch stairs of the Coopers’ residence, the two teens getting ambushed but a ready-to-kill Alice Cooper that turned their lovesick smiles into ice.

After that it was just a mess of screams and insults, Betty’s mom having found the backpack of Jughead’s belongings as she once again went snooping in the girl’s room, shouting at how disappointed she was at Betty and her tendencies of always getting involved with the wrong crowd, addressing Jughead with words like stray and lowlife and delinquent, him just standing there and looking at the ground and Betty crying and screaming back how she hated her and how much of a awful mother she was being. And mist the fire of it all, the raven haired boy that never seemed to have a chance to happiness, had pushed his backpack up his shoulder and walked away, doing what he knew best; disappear.

Hours had passed since then and not a single text of hers about his wellbeing was answered, Betty being locked up in her room and crying her pretty eyes out for the boy that made her heart meant and beat again, even faster than ever before. She had never cried for anything or anyone that much in the past, not even for Archie, having that sinking feeling inside her chest, that burden that left her there breathing with difficulty and sobbing hard with trembles of sorrow running down her spine.

Didn’t find him anywhere. You want me to tell my dad? Her phone chimed and she rushed to read the text, momentarily hopping that it was from him and he was ok, but it was just from Kevin, the poor boy offering to go out looking for Jughead once Betty had called him with hiccups interrupting her sobbing words, asking for his help.

She was about to text him back to do so because at that point she was really worried but her blurry eyes were making this a difficult task, the blonde beauty swiping a hand violently under her eye and trying to gain some control of her messy state. Her mind was spinning with all the possible scenarios, with mostly bad to worse popping up first, and she was so caught up in her thoughts that didn’t even hear her window being opened behind her and the boy she wished to see more than anything else right now climbing inside her room.  

“Is there any room for me?” Betty heard his voice, soft and soothing, and her reflexes where never that quick before in her life, turning around on her bed and gasping a loud relieved sigh that he was there and well before storming in his arms.

“Juggie…” she sobbed against the hard material of his denim jacket, her whole body shaking from the force of her cries and Jughead shushing her and holding her tight.

“Hey, hey, please don’t cry for me…Bets, please, it’s okay…” he kept saying and trying to offer her some comfort, alternating his hands from running up and down her sides and his arms from wrapping securely around her.

“I was so worried about you, I thought something bad happened.” She pulled back to look at him, placing both her palms on his face and examining him closely.

He did the same, taking in her way too puffy eyes, their breathtaking color a tad less bright, and her flushed cheeks, his heart breaking a little at the sight of her, knowing that he was to blame. “I’m fine. I told you I know how to take care of myself.” he assured her, bringing his thump to brush away some tears that still lingered under her eyes.

“I’m so sorry about my mom…” Betty started in a low ashamed voice, knowing that everything her mother had said was out of line and unfair to him. “What she said—”

Jughead cut her off. “Alice Cooper has called me a sleaze at the age of ten; the time I cared about her opinion is long gone.” He replied with a shrug. “No offence.” She just shook her head at his way of still not wanting to insult her or her awful of a mother. “I didn’t leave for what she said to me, I left for you. It’s not fair for you to go through any of this trouble for me.” He confessed with sadness in his eyes, feeling awful that she had to go through hell just because he happened to be in her life.

“And it’s not fair for you to deal with everything on your own.” Betty insisted with such intensity in her eyes that left him with zero comebacks. “Where are your things?” she wondered, looking down around him and taking a step back, the two teens getting untangled from each other. “Don’t tell me you went back to the Blue & Gold.”

Jughead shook his head no, burying his hands inside the pocket of his jeans. “I talked to Archie…” he started and saw the girl across him raise her eyes at that. “That’s why I wasn’t replying to your messages, I’m sorry…” he felt really guilty at that, guilty that made her worry so much for him. “Told him everything, how I lost my home, staying here, what happened with your mom… He was bumped that I didn’t go to him from the beginning but we did that bro thing which we give each other a clean slate and start back again.” He let a small chuckle at this but composed himself immediately, regarding the situation.

Betty smiled, even though she knew this meant he was going to leave her behind just like that. “I’m glad you patched things up with him.” She was, really.

He nodded. “Fred said that I can take their spare bedroom for the time being and Archie and I are planning to rebuild their garage; make it my bedroom and a joined man cave.”

It was Betty’s time to nod, pretending to be ok with all that, but her eyes betrayed her as the waterfalls threatened to spill from them again, the girl looking away and biting her lip to hold back another round of stupid tears.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Jughead rushed to her and enveloped her in his arms again, leaving a butterfly kiss on her temple. “What are you crying for now, huh? I’m here, I’m well and you’ll still gonna see my stupid face every day from some meters away.” He tried to lighten the mood and cheer her up, pulling back to look down at her with a loving smile, his hands dropping to her waist and fingers playing with the hem of the blue and yellow blouse of her cheerleader uniform, Betty still haven’t been bothered to change with all the events that happened tonight. Jughead liked her in that uniform; the tiny skirt was leaving her legs uncovered and he had come to realize that he had a soft spot for them as much as her eyes.

“It’s just” she took a deep breath and brushed her palms over her eyes stubbornly; she was so sick of crying “I liked having you here, you know?” she admitted and Jughead rewarded her with his boyish smirk which immediately pull something in her heart. “Ever since Polly…left” she chose carefully the word “this house had been so damn silent!” her voice broke at that and Jughead frowned in sympathy; he knew that feeling very well. “Those days that you’ve been here, they reminded me of the ones I got to spend with her and it made me feel so much less alone.” Betty sobbed the last part and some mascara filled tears run down her cheeks, making Jughead hold her close again, leaning back to rest against the small wooden bench of her window, letting her water his jacket with salty tears and just rubbing her back, offering hushed promises that everything was going to be ok.

They didn’t know how much time they stayed like that, just holding each other and Betty spilling everything that’s being pilling up inside her, but eventually her cries died and the only sound around them was their even breaths and the crickets chirping away in the night sky.

“Thank you for making me feel less alone.” Betty raised her head from his shoulder to look at him.

“Thank you for making me feel that I wasn’t invisible.” He mused back and caressed her cheek, his thump drawing patterns against her faint freckles, and he saw her eyes shine again, shine with something else that he hadn’t seen before, something so intense that even authors can’t find the right words to describe it.

Jughead heard her take in a sharp breath and it was as if she had commanded him to lean closer, their faces inches away from each other, noses almost bopping. Her long eyelashes fanned against his face, her eyes blinking rapidly in what seemed like anticipation and he felt her melt against him once he titled his head slightly to the side. The raven haired boy felt at a loss, like he didn’t have any control of his mind and body, like everything was on autopilot on his part, not really sure what to do or how to do it but going with his gut and placing his other hand on her waist, making her jump up straight and sigh against his chapped lips. The action caused him to drop his eyes to her own lips, full, pink and always inviting, and he saw her tongue coming out to lick them, Jughead knowing right there that he needed to kiss her, to have even just a small taste, otherwise he would die at that very moment.

“I think I’m gonna kiss you, Betty Cooper.” His lips formed the words almost against her lips and she closed her eyes, angling her head in a delicious way, waiting for him to go on with his promise.

“You better do.” Or I’ll die, she continued in her mind before feeling the slightest of touches against her petal lips, excitement shooting through her system like a drug and having her asking for more by lacing her arms behind his neck.

Jughead felt her mouth part in invitation and her fingers deliver the softest of caresses at the sensitive skin of his neck and he dove in for real this time, kissing her with all the build-up tension he had inside him, bringing her flat against his body by her waist and opening his mouth to savor hers with all he got, both of them sighing in the kiss, pushing, pulling, nibbling, sucking. And when the slightest of moans left her sweet like candy cane and strawberries mouth and vibrated through him whole, Jughead couldn’t help but attack her with new passion, leaning all the way towards her and seeking entrance with his tongue, something that Betty gladly accepted, squealing in delight and tugging at his mess of raven hair to bring him even closer.

“So that’s what a real kiss is like…” the boy murmured inside the kiss awestruck, Betty pulling back lightly to giggle and him following her mouth blindly, not ready yet to escape the sweetest flavor he had ever tasted.

“Not quite bad, huh?” Betty smiled against his lips and pecked them once, twice, three times while caressing up and down his jawline, feeling the happiest girl in the whole wide world.

“Perfect is the only thing that goes with you.” Jughead’s low voice sent a shiver down her spine and she dropped her forehead on his in affection, before their lips met again in the sweetest battle of dominance. 

Jughead Jones and Betty Cooper were finally not hiding anymore.

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead fic #betty x jughead #jetty #jughead jones #betty cooper #betty and jughead #riverdale #riverdaleships #riverdale fic #otp:sundaes & plaids #mywriting

[diamonds-and-studs]

I learned who Daniel Adams was because I was a fan of Ryan Ross- former guitarist and lead songwriter of the band Panic At The Disco. Ryan is incredibly private, and rightfully so as many of his fans are incredibly invasive. As such, many fans will follow friends of his to get updates on him. Ryan’s a friend of Daniel’s, set to have been cast as a character in Dan’s upcoming film. My friends are more diehard fans than I, and knew of this before I did, and filled me in. As such, that’s how I caught wind of him, and decided to follow him. I followed Daniel when I heard about him, not just because he knew Ryan, but because I got interested in him as a person outside of that. His posts are quirky, weird, and esoteric, yet visually provocative. His character as a person was a discussion piece among my peers, and as something of a gag, I ended up making him a piece of fan art, as I’d seen other people on Instagram doing. What that morphed into, somehow, was me getting commissioned to do the promotional art for his film. I was very obviously enthused with that premise, as it was an artistic opportunity, especially one involving people I admired. Needless to say, I seized the opportunity.

Working with D was really good in the beginning. He was professional with letting me know the work he wanted me to do and could maintain an appropriate casual relationship. We talked about cars and dogs and punk rock, and it was good! We had very similar tastes and interests. We were nurturing a friendship and learning about each other. It was seeming to bud into being a mentor-pupil relationship. He was very appreciative of me and genuinely seemed to like me as a person. Our work was steady as well- in a stretch from June to mid-July, I made multiple versions of 10-ish pieces for him. We were in talks of potentially casting me for his film, going so far as to have me read the screenplay and for him to propose parts to me.

However he oft referred to me as pet names (baby, doll, honey, fox, etc.). He also gradually kept making more and more inappropriate comments towards me- saying I reminded him of girls he’s dated, that he likes Jewish and Mexican girls just after telling him that I was Jewish, and that I have great legs. He replied to several of my Instagram stories saying “Hot!”. He’d called me beautiful a handful of times. He said I have great legs. His language about women besides me was often also inappropriate. He once said “I’m glad yr 18″ to me”… He once lied to me about his age, saying he was born in ‘66 instead of ‘56 as if I hadn’t read his IMDB- and while it could have been a typo, it could also not have been. I still have every email and text and IG message he’d ever sent me.

He’d also occasionally straight up make fun of me- once texting me at midnight with a photo of his dog, essentially implying I would want something with his dog because I’m queer. After finding out I’m bisexual, he said my brain is half okay. Once he texted me implying I had a crush on Ryan and even though I denied it and said I was rolling my eyes, he insisted and got the last laugh. All of which was incredibly degrading.

I never knew what to say to any of those dubious remarks, and would try to dismiss it or laugh it off despite being uncomfortable because I was afraid that I was overreacting, or if I spoke against it he’d misunderstand me or just not wanna deal with it and cut me out. He was in a great deal of power over me- I trusted him to behave responsibly around our power divide, in whatever way that power divide took form. Mentor/pupil, boss/employee, old/young, or in the realm of public image. I felt there was things to lose if I was to somehow quake our relationship- I would lose a friend, a mentor figure, and a work opportunity I was excited for and passionate about. He was someone I admired for many things, someone I trusted, someone who I was enthused to be involved with. And at this point, I was afraid that I was seeing conflict where there was none- that I was overreacting, that I was misunderstanding. I blamed myself for just about everything.

As I was dealing with the discomfort of how he’d speak to me, he also was slipping in our working relationship. He told me “We’ll get back to work next week” like 3 times, and by mid-July we were pretty much strictly casual. Whenever I tried to get him to acknowledge business, he’d just ignore my messages. That was a stark difference from having had made 10+ pieces for him and having had been in discussions of casting me for Starmaker. I got the vibe that maybe he didn’t have work for me to do, or put the cart in front of the horse in getting me involved- all of which I was fine with, and now know to be true- however it was never communicated to me, so I never knew for sure. I still tried to maintain a casual relationship, because I held faith that he was genuine and that things would work out. I felt that maybe I had done something wrong that made him distrust me, that made him disvalue me. I tried to do right by him from the beginning, even before things seemed to start going south. I tried not to annoy him, to cross what I assumed would be his boundaries. I tried not to ask questions for fear of being invasive. I made him art as gifts outside of business. I wanted to feel valued and respected, and I wanted to be taken seriously. I take myself and my work seriously, and I respect myself.

Eventually I asked Daniel if he would Facetime me some time, since he’d made mention of it a few times but never had. I did this nearly as a last ditch effort to get him to take me seriously. To me, if we were to be in a long term working relationship, some sort of more tangible and direct communication would be a given.  He replied “Yeah, call you when I’m drunk” and that was my tipping point in frustration with him. I felt had no idea what he wanted from me, or what he thought of me. I had no idea what I ever did to him to make him talk to me this way. As such I reached out to someone else involved with the film- of which I know very few, one whom I’ve still never spoken to, and the other who I’d only made small talk with- for insight. I asked him if it was something about me, if Daniel was bad at talking to people, what it was. I gave a bit of insight into my frustrations, and he- Bill, the guy I went to- was taken aback. I spilled out some more things to him and he gave me more insight into Daniel’s character. Apparently he’s very often drunk, most days after noon, and can be a huge asshole when drunk. He’s also a master manipulator and is very good at hustling people to get what he wants from them, and disregarding if not berating them when he feels he doesn’t need anything from them.

Bill and I deliberated on the best course of action, and eventually I wrote a long spiel to Daniel about everything I felt in regards to our communication to establish boundaries, and I had faith he’d take it well. I genuinely thought that we could reassess and amend moving forward. I used I statements, I was professional, admitted some of my own confusions, was open and empathetic, etc. I made it clear that I just wanted to establish boundaries and assess communication. I didn’t bombard him with it, I asked him repeatedly once a day for about a week if he had the time to talk, and didn’t get a reply. Eventually I just sent it. (read conversation here)

He said he’d get back to me when he wasn’t busy. I said that if I can take the time to raise the concern, he can take the time to address it. He was dismissive and said sorry for the hassle and that I should talk to my family and friends about it and move on instead of go to him about it. I replied that I had deliberated with my peers and if you take issue with someone, usually you’d go to the person you take issue with to amend. He said he’d discuss more later and I asked when later was. I was tired of the stress of waiting. He replied to me a few hours later and said “What do you want from me” and I said, y’know, communication and basically.. We had a falling out. He told me a few times that he didn’t understand, and to let it go. He was saying I was harassing him, that he was too old for my shit, etc.  I never broke face and was only ever polite and professional but he was nasty. I tried to keep guards down, but there was nothing I could do to get through. He did say he’d pay me for my art, though.

So a week later, a week of no contact in between, I emailed him saying I hated that it had to end on bad terms, if it was over, but we needed to talk business, and payment. At this point I didn’t want his money anymore and knew his true colors. Bill seemed to have understood why I wanted to amend, but after my falling out with Daniel, said to me that although he hadn’t told me so directly until that point, I would likely be happier and more productive if I was to abandon ties with the project. I now understand this to be true.

About a week and a half passed from when I contacted Daniel about payment, and I heard no response. I had not contacted him at all in that time sans one text and one Instagram comment (which he deleted) saying that I emailed him. I eventually sought the professional advice of Bill (who is a professional composer and has had forays in film) who told me if I didn’t want my art used by him, I should put it in writing to him and document it as a legal precaution. He gave me all this advice and said he’d help me fill out cease and desists if need be. Bill’s a saint. I then put it in writing, saying that I did not want my work used without my consent if we are not going to discuss my work in our relationship in advance. (read conversation here)

His comment about me harassing him was incredibly rich coming from him, as by legal definition he sexually harassed me, and because I went out of my way to avoid contact with him, going so far as to unfollow him on Instagram within a day of our falling out, while he continued to follow me for about a week after. I haven’t had any contact with Daniel since the end of October.

I trusted Daniel, and I wanted to, because he has so many positive merits. I trusted that he was in the right, that he was responsible in his position of power. Trust is always a venture. I feel that at the time, I didn’t have much reason to distrust him, though some may argue that- however I may have been clouded by my optimistic spirit. Perhaps I should have asked more questions, or been more apprehensive. Perhaps I should have followed my intuition sooner. My thoughts and emotions have been all sorts of clouded lately trying to sort out how I felt about what I knew then, versus how I feel about what I know now, and how I feel now about how I felt then. Part of me still wants to blame myself, and tell myself how I could have fixed it, and what I could have said or done better- and I don’t know why I keep thinking that, as there’s really nothing I could have done, especially as I now know there was really nothing worth doing but leaving. In retrospect, I oft feel very stupid for having trusted him- but I believe that the fault is not on one who trusts an untrustworthy person, rather, on he who takes advantage of someone.  I now feel that I was fighting for respect from someone who would not respect me no matter what I did, and that the fact he disrespected me wasn’t consequence for any of my actions, rather just his inherent disposition. And I also feel that I took the right steps- and despite any hurt I suffered, I’m proud of myself for standing up for myself, and for being rational and professional in my approach to this situation that still feels much larger than myself.

From what I know now, Bill intends to have a proper conversation with Daniel about his actions and how they mirror certain scenarios of casting couch culture- think Weinstein- in a serious manner. I don’t know when this will happen. Dan and Bill had something of a falling out, to the best of my understanding- for some reason Daniel texted Bill telling him not to talk shit behind his back, and Bill ignored him for awhile after that. On Thanksgiving, Bill told me he thinks Daniel’s avoiding him. They used to see each other every day, so that’s a harsh difference. Ryan still doesn’t know about any of this. I still want Ryan to know about everything that transpired, but my thoughts on that could fill up a story equally as long as this one. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to sort out  my emotions and find the narrative of this story.

#17 #text

[diamonds-and-studs]

I figured out who Daniel was because I was a fan of Ryan’s but got interested in him as a person outside of that cuz he was this quirky weird esoteric yet talented artist dude. I mean you know my general disposition towards fame culture and how I wasn’t even like, a huge fan of Ryan’s,,, So that association was how I figured out who he was, but not incentive to getting involved. Anyway as kind of as a gag I made him a piece of fan art. What that morphed into was me getting commissioned to do the promotional art for Starmaker. I was very obviously enthused with that premise, as it was an artistic opportunity, especially one involving people I admired.

It was really good in the beginning, he was professional with letting me know the work he wanted me to do and could maintain an appropriate casual relationship. We talked about cars and dogs and punk rock, and it was good! But he oft referred to me as pet names (baby, doll, honey, etc.) and I was never comfortable with that, yet didn’t know how to tell him that, as he was my boss and in a position of power over me. He also gradually kept making more and more inappropriate comments towards me- saying I reminded him of girls he’s dated, that he likes Jewish and Mexican girls (after I told him I was Jewish), that I have great legs. He replied to several of my Instagram stories saying “Hot!”. He’d called me beautiful a handful of times. He said I have great legs. He once said “I’m glad yr 18″ to me”… He once lied to me about his age, and while it could have been a typo, it could also not have been. I still have every email and text and IG message he’d ever sent me. I never knew what to say to any of that and kind of tried to dismiss it or laugh it off despite being uncomfortable because I was afraid that I was misunderstanding or if I spoke against it he’d misunderstand me or just not wanna deal with it and cut me out. He’d also occasionally straight up make fun of me- once texting me at midnight with a photo of his dog, essentially implying I would want something with his dog because I’m queer. After finding out I’m bi, he said my brain is half okay. Once he texted me implying I had a crush on Ryan and even though I denied it and said I was rolling my eyes, he insisted and go the last laugh. All of which was obviously super degrading, because I couldn’t back talk any of it. As I was dealing with the discomfort of how he’d speak to me, he also was slipping in our working relationship. He told me “We’ll get back to work next week” like 3 times, and by mid-July we were pretty much strictly casual. Whenever I tried to get him to acknowledge business, he’d just ignore my messages. That was a stark difference from having had made 10+ pieces for him and basically having had been in discussions of casting me for Starmaker. I still tried to maintain a casual relationship, because I held faith that he was genuine. I trusted him, and I wanted to, because he has so many positive merits. This part is still fuzzy to me in retrospect, trying to sort out what I know now and what I believed then. I now know Daniel’s a professional carpenter (that’s how he met Ryan) and Starmaker is super SUPER far back in production. He’s incredibly good at manipulating his image to seem way more prolific than he actually is, and I knew this to some degree going into it, but not to the extent it’s true. Eventually I once asked him if he would Facetime me some time, since he’d made mention of it a few times but never had. He replied “Yeah, call you when I’m drunk” and that was my tipping point in frustration with him. I had no idea what he wanted from me, if it was my fault, or what the hell. So I reached out to someone else involved with Starmaker- of which I know very few- for insight. I only had one of two peopleI asked if it was me, if Daniel was bad at talking to people, what it was. I gave a bit of insight into my frustrations, and he- Bill, the guy I went to- was taken aback. I spilled out some more things to him and he gave me more insight into Daniel’s character. Apparently he’s very often drunk, most days after noon, and can be a huge asshole when drunk. (Note- Bill is a saint who instantly believed me and did not ask for proof and has been so courteous helping me figure everything out).

We deliberated and eventually I wrote a long spiel to Daniel about everything I felt in regards to our communication to establish boundaries, and I had faith he’d take it well. I used I statements, I was professional, admitted some of my own confusions, was open and empathetic, etc. I didn’t bombard him with it, I asked him repeatedly once a day for about a week if he had the time to talk, and didn’t get a reply. Eventually I just sent it. He said he’d get back to me when he wasn’t busy. I said that if I can take the time to raise the concern, he can take the time to address it. He was dismissive and said sorry for the hassle and that I should talk to my family and friends about it and move on instead of go to him about it. He said he’d discuss more later and I asked when later was. He replied to me a few hours later and said “What do you want from me” and I said, y’know, communication and basically.. We had this falling out. He was saying I was hassling him, that he was too old for my shit, etc.  I never broke face and was only ever polite and professional but he was nasty. He did say he’d pay me for my art, though.

So a week later I emailed him saying i hated that it had to end on bad terms, if it was over, but we needed to talk business. I got nothing. At this point I didn’t want his money anymore and knew his true colors. So eventually I sought the professional advice of Bill (who is a professional composer) who told me if I didn’t want my art used by him, I should put it in writing to him and document it as a legal precaution. He gave me all this advice and said he’d help me fill out cease and desists if need be and all this stuff cuz hes a saint. So a week and a half later I put it in writing, and D texted me back saying “Who is this”. I said who and he said “I haven’t done anything with anything why are you harassing me” which is fucking bullshit when I went out of my way to not have contact with him when he followed me on Insta for days after he unfollowed me, and also rich coming from the guy who legally sexually harassed me. Anyhow I was having a mental breakdown through all of this and had nobody to talk to about any of it, ‘cuz you know how shitty my family is. And obviously tihs is undeniably traumatic to some degree, this harsh sense of betrayal and the element of sexual exploitation. My head is still really foggy all the time and it’s hard to think straight dealing with all of this and all the other BS that comes up in therapy. This story has a lot of details and its hard to tell since it’s still fresh and happening. Later on I find that D had been in contact with at least three 13/14 year old girls, not to the extent he was with me, but any 60 year old man talking to tweens on the internet is creepy as fuck. He went after Bill for helping me saying he was shit talking him, which isn’t true, he was helping the teenage girl he abused for 4 months. But I guess whenever Bill sees D next he’s going to have a chat with him about his casting couch inclinations. Ryan still doesn’t know, I want him to for my sake and his, but I don’t know how to raise that to Bill.