#after writing this somehow half of the paragraph deleted and I went through hell trying to re-write it

[adoptedbythemongoose]

That's great! If you could meet any figure from Greek Mythology, who would it be?

[Sorry about that, haha😭 Mod, what genres or books are your favorites? I really need a good book recommendation.]

“I think Hermes would be interesting to meet! I don’t really think there’s any “good” option, like most figures from Greek Mythology would kill me, or worse. But Hermes would at least be a little fun, you don’t know exactly what you’re gonna get.” She paused “though most of the narratives I’ve consumed about Greek Mythology are reinterpretations or completely new stories, so I’m not sure if my perception of these people is the most accurate, I’m sure Hannibal knows quite a bit about it though”

[it’s no worries! I really enjoy romance and more realistic stuff, slice of life, set in the real world y’know? I have been legitimately enjoying Percy Jackson and Song Of Achilles. There’s a manga called ‘I Wanna Eat Your Pancreas’ which is heart breaking and beautiful, if you’re into comics. Fuck there’s this book I read in school but I can’t remember its name, it’s getting a movie adaptation, it’s rlly good, I’ll see if I can find it. I never finished it though]

[bugheadjones-the-third]

Title: Inspiration . Summary: Jughead is suffering from writers block and Betty decides to help him get inspired. . A/N: Thank you, Lili and Cole, for destroying my study schedule this week. Those photos of Lili surrounded by flowers were just too beautiful and I couldn’t help make a Bughead version of that XD I hope you enjoy it, and please, give me some feedback! . . . She hates to see him like this.

A deadly glare is set on his laptop screen, three empty cups of coffee resting aside and that troubled inconstancy that consists of typing and deleting everything. His fingers are making a loud, clicking sound, as they dance violently around his keyboard, and she can hear the cursing under his breath, even if they’re coming out in a really low whisper.

Her boyfriend had been like that for what felt like hours now, suffering from the worst writer’s block she has ever witnessed, as he runs his fingers through the exposed locks of his dark hair every now and then. He's puffing his cheeks in pure frustration as he continues to stare at a blank page in front of him, tapping his feet against Pop’s tiled floor.

Perks of being a writer, she thought.

Jughead Jones the Third was sitting in a booth at Riverdale’s number one meeting spot, completely unaware of the world that surrounds him. Betty is sitting across from him, trying to finish her homework, but failing miserably as her blue eyes refuse to leave the boy in front of her. She knows he’s not conscious of her presence, for he’s even ignored the basket of fries Pops left for him, and she knows how serious things are at this point.

While he’s trapped in that attempt of writing a new paragraph of his novel, nothing else seems to matter for that boy and his beanie.

Oh, but it does matter for the girl with the golden ponytail.

Watching him slowly and uselessly drowning in that current state is harder than watching him write without being able to have a taste for the words. Betty doesn’t understand what’s going on in his head, but she sure as hell knows that if he doesn’t figure it out soon, his beanie will be covering an entirely bald head.

She has to do something, she thinks. She has to save that soft hair of his.

“ Hey, Juggie…” Her voice breaks the silence that had started after his keyboard was briefly spared from his anger. His eyes didn’t leave the screen, as his right hand rests over his upper lip.

It’s obvious that her words didn’t cross the barrier he had placed around himself, and for an instance, she can feel a certain annoyance building up in her stomach. She bites her lower lip, ready to try a little harder- and a little louder this time.

“ Jughead.” Her voice is, indeed, louder, but she still has no success. She clenches her fists, and her big, bright, blue eyes are now glaring at her boyfriend. He’s giving her no choice. “ Forsythe Jones!”

At the sudden mention of his name, the writer snaps his head up, his greenish-blue eyes now set on her. His Adam apple goes up and down in a gulp, for he can tell Betty is annoyed by something- someone- him. He doesn’t like the way she’s staring at him, and for the first time, he chooses to grab one, cold fried potato, shoving it into his mouth.

“ Hey, Bets… What is it?”

“ Don’t you think you should take a break?”

“ A break? But I barely wrote one line!”

“ Yes, and that’s exactly why you need a break. You’re stuck.”

“ No, I’m not.”

She says nothing, her eyebrow lifting in a way that says it all.

Oh, really?

“ Well… Maybe… I’m kinda stuck. But it doesn’t mean I should give up right now! What would’ve happened if Stephen King had given up while writing one of his books?”

“ Juggie, that’s not the point. Yo-“

“ Or what if Mary Shelley had decided to stop writing because of menstrual cramps?”

“ …What? That makes no sense, I mean-“

“ Or even better! I bet Truman Capote didn’t, couldn’t and wouldn’t stop writing his articles for In Cold Blood! Betty, I can’t give up!”

“ I’m not telling you to give up, Jughead! What I mean to tell you is that even Edgar Alan Poe must have suffered from writer’s block!”

“ Writer’s block?” He lifted an eyebrow, his lips creating a gap in pure disbelief. For a moment, Jughead seemed to be offended by his girlfriend’s words, and before he knew it, his head was already shaking in pure denial.

Writer's block, seriously? Who does she think he is? An amateur who spends hours writing about cliché couples and their dramatic hypocrisy?

No. He’s Jughead Jones and he’s writing his own, criminal novel about his own, small town. He’s living his own words, so there’s just no way he could actually be suffering from that curse.

No, not him.

His tongue is now playing around his lower lip, as a smirk tugs on the corner of his mouth. His head is slowly tilting to the sides, and his eyes are still trapped on hers in a way that sends shivers down her spine. Jughead’s expression looks amused as he looks at the concerned, cute blonde, and if not for his current writing issue, the beanie boy would’ve allowed a chuckle to escape his throat.

But he has no time for such thing.

“ Tch, There’s no such thing as writer’s block, Betty.”

“ Then how do you explain what you’ve been doing for the past 2 hours?”

“ I’m just unsure of which words to use. I’ll figure it out soon.”

“ I believe you will, and I want to help.” She says, softly, reaching out for his hands. Betty is trying her best to show him her support, but judging by his expression, he is not really taking her intentions seriously.

“ Thanks, Bets, but…” He holds her hands, brushing her knuckles with his thumb. “ I don’t think I would like to hear you reading the entire dictionary for me. Even if I’m sure your voice would make all the words sound a lot better.”

A sigh escapes her lips, as they soon return to their previous positions. Her hands are now forming a bridge in front of her face, as his eyes are now back to the screen. She hates his sarcastic, smart words more than everything now, and the pout on her lips shows how unsatisfied she is with this situation.

Apparently, he won’t be giving her another option.

Without thinking twice, the blonde stands up from the booth, and unconsciously, his eyes follow her golden pony tail dancing around in the air. She went to talk to Pop Tate and they giggle a bit before she finally returns to the booth with a wide smile spread around her face. Betty doesn’t sit, he notes, as she simply stands there, looking at him for as long as it takes for him to feel uncomfortable.

Betty Cooper really knows how to get his attention.

“Bets.” He stops and looks at her. “ Are you really just going to- Wait, what!?“

Before he could even finish his line, the Cooper girl is already closing his dark laptop, leaning down so their faces are just a couple of inches away from one another. Her eyes are intimidating right now, and somehow, he feels all the words and the sarcasm escaping from his body.

“ Listen, Juggie. If you really wanted me to read an entire dictionary for you, believe me, I would. However, I know this won’t work so I’ll be doing something that might actually take you off of this writer’s block.”

“ There’s no such thing as-“

“ Yes there is. And now, you’re gonna stand up, hold my hand and we will both be going out to find you some inspiration. Deal?”

Her breath is tickling his nose, her eyes are blinding his and her vanilla scent is invading his nostrils. Suddenly, he feels his palms sweating and his heart beating faster, as her idea- order- starts to sound quite appealing.

Perhaps, taking a break with his girlfriend won’t be that bad.

“ Fine. And where do you-“

“Awesome!” She pecks his lips, before carefully placing his laptop inside her purse, and in a blink of an eye, she’s already pulling him by the hand as they storm out of Pop’s. His free hand is holding his beanie down, as he stumbles, trying to keep up with her excitement.

Cheerleaders, he thinks.

“ Hey, shouldn’t we pay before we leave?”

“ It was my treat! Just tag along, okay?” While they are still running with no particular reason, Betty quickly turns to face him, with a warm, soft smile on her face. Her cheeks are blushing due to Riverdale’s cold air, and before he notices, there’s a blush spread around his cheeks too. Jughead is smiling, and when he finally answers the tight grip she has around his hand, the writer finally realizes that his girlfriend may be right.

And if he does need inspiration, then who would be better than his her to give him some?

————————————————————

At the beginning of their unexpected hike, their hands were intertwined together. However now, after walking through so many, rocky miles, Jughead is barely being able to keep up with Betty Cooper and her excited ponytail. They’ve been walking for almost an hour already, chasing the SweetWater river’s water upstream, and by the look on his girlfriend’s eyes, there’s still a long way to go until they reach the so called inspirational place. There’s a smile decorating her lips, and even if he appreciates the fact that she’s forcefully dragging him around, right now, he just wants to go back to Pop’s and resume his miserable and failing attempt to write something.

Jughead Jones the Third was not created to walk long distances.

At least not without a vanilla milkshake.

“Bets… Not that I dislike Riverdale’s natural, cold scenarios, but… Can we just go home? I’m starting to feel like the Revenant and I don’t really feel like going through that whole thing for an Oscar.”

“ Tch, stop being such a kid, Juggie… We’re almost there.”

“ You said that like half an hour ago…” He whispers, a childish pout gracing his lips.

“ Did you say something?”

“ Nope.”

“ Uhm… Then hurry up! Move faster or we will take longer than Leonardo took to crawl from inside that horse!”

A sigh escapes his lips as soon as he watches the girl cheerfully hopping from stone to stone as they reach a steeper part of the mountain. His lungs and his muscles are protesting as his eyes try to figure out the best way to cross those rocks, and it’s only when he reaches the last one that he knows he shouldn’t have ignored his own body when it tried to stop him from moving.

The last rock was covered by a thin layer of moss, and as soon as his dark converse steps on it, the only thing Jughead can feel is his entire body falling back in slow motion. His eyes widen, his lips part in awe, allowing a loud gasp to escape his lungs, and before he knows, the world is spinning.

It’s definitely gonna hurt, he thinks.

But surprisingly, it doesn’t. When his body stops in the air and his hand is enveloped in a warm, soft sensation, Jughead realizes it doesn’t hurt at all.

“ Wow! I gotcha!”

Big, bright, blue eyes stare at him with a little fear shaking her pupils, and a relieved smiles plays on her lips as she stands still, firmly holding his hand so he won’t fall and hit his head. For a moment, he feels his heart beating faster and a blush hovers over his cheek as he watches- from the best seat in the house- the sheer light that surrounds his blonde heroine.

She’s certainly a super girl.

“ And that’s why kids must stay at home.” He smirks, as she pulls him up so he can sustain his own weight.

“ Maybe next time I can find a way to carry you all the way up here.”

“ You know I wouldn’t find it all that bad.”

“ Oh, so are you saying I can ask one of the joggers to come and stay with us all the time? Maybe Arch could come.” She teases, watching as his lazy expression suddenly turns into a more serious one. Even if he knows she’s just joking, this is not the kind of humor that makes him laugh.

“…. I’ll pass. Tch, couldn’t you have chosen a closer place to take me? I wouldn’t complain if we went to somewhere as close as Pop’s.”

“ Stop being so lazy, Jughead! If going to Pop’s had helped, we wouldn’t have climbed all the way up here.” She holds his hand, swinging it back and forth. Slowly, she guides him a couple of steps ahead and before he notices, Betty stops and her eyes turn to face another direction. There’s a new light shining upon them, and a wide smile takes over her expression.

It’s definitely a good view, he thinks, feeling a silent sigh escaping through his nostrils.

“Now open your mind and let the inspiration come…. We’re here.”

It takes Jughead some seconds to finally build up enough strength to turn away from her porcelain face, but when he does, his greenish-blue eyes widen in pure surprise. In front of him, a bright, yellow field of lilies extends itself, blending in with some orange daisies and destroying the constant, winter gray that envelops the town. It’s a secluded and protected area that certainly goes against Riverdale’s own cold and mysterious atmosphere, and even if he’s not really fond of flowers himself, the writer suddenly starts to feel awkwardly well while surrounded by them.

His girlfriend really had a good idea in order to make him relax.

But inspiration is not something he can feel building up inside himself. At least not now.

“ So, what do you think? Beautiful, isn’t it?” She asks, biting her lower lip in pure anxiety as she waits for his answer.

“ Yeah… It’s really breathtaking, and I’m not saying this because I might have dropped my lungs somewhere on the way up here.” She punches his arm playfully, making the corner of his mouth lift in amusement. “ I appreciate the fact that you’ve brought me here, Bets… I really do…”

“ But…?” Her expression is soft, as she waits for the truth. The Cooper girl could tell by the way his eyes looked at the scenery in front of him that her attempt was, indeed, useless. She waits to hear it from his lips, and for they’ve always cherished the truth, Betty knew he will tell her exactly what’s on his mind.

They are trying to solve a crime. Lying isn’t really their thing.

“ But I’m writing a novel about a murderer… I doubt beautiful flowers and sweet scents will give me any kind of motivation.”

“ You’re right. It was a stupid idea…”

“ I wouldn’t say stupid… Far from that, actually. You were just trying to help, and it’s not your fault if it didn’t work. You did all you could.”

Oh, did she?

As a cold breeze hits their bodies and dances with their blonde and dark locks, Betty Cooper starts to think that she didn’t really try everything she could to help him rid himself of that block. Looking at the flowers right now and feeling his warm hand against hers is suddenly making her feel lighter than usual, and Betty doesn’t know if it was his scent or the flowers’, but she can feel a sweet scent invading her nostrils and leaving her in an inebriated state of heart.

Betty can feel the slightest changes happening around her, and as her heart starts to beat faster, she realizes that maybe bringing him all the way up here was nothing but a selfish wish from her jealous and needy love for the boy with the beanie.

Maybe all she wanted was his attention and those stunning eyes of his set on her.

Her eyelids are half closed right now, as she looks at him and allows the fresh air of the mountains to fill her lungs. She suddenly lets go of his hand, and before she knows it, her legs are dragging her towards the middle of that field of flowers. The yellow and orange petals brush against the tips of her fingers, as she looks like a little girl who has forgotten about spring after a long winter. There’s a simple smile on her face, and when she finally turns to face him and their eyes lock, her smile only gets softer.

Oh, how good it is to be observed by those eyes…

The eyes of someone who can eternalize that moment with his own, pure words.

“ Betty?” He’s confused, watching his girlfriend entangling herself with the flowers. “Are you okay?”

“ Of course I am! Come here with me. Have some fun!” She smiles brightly, not paying attention to where she’s heading to. “ I don’t understand how you can’t get inspired by this.”

“ I think I’ll pass… Maybe it’s the thin air… My brain needs oxygen.”

“ Your brain needs oxygen and I need a- AH!”

Her sarcastic comment is abruptly interrupted by a hidden root that ended up trapping her foot, and like an autumn leaf, Betty falls in the middle of the flower field. It was quite an amusing view, he admits, as he holds back the laughter that had suddenly built up inside his stomach.

Betty Cooper is beautiful even when falling.

“Betty?! Are you okay?” There’s an amused smile playing on his lips, and as he finally enters the yellow and orange field, Jughead starts to carefully look around for his girlfriend. Yellow pollen is sticking on his pants, and the buzzing sound of a bee tells him that he has messed with the wrong flower.

“ I’m okay…” She says, lifting a hand in the air as if to indicate her location. “ Damn, how did this happen?”

His long legs take him to the place where she is, and when his eyes finally find her, Jughead is surprised by the sudden hit he feels on his stomach. His eyes widen, his heart skips a beat, and before he knows it, the writer is at loss of words as he simply looks at the girl below.

Her golden locks are mixing with the flowers, as they're messily splayed around, daring to pop out from the ponytail. Her legs are brought up to her chest as she massages her lower back, and the faint yellow that covers her cheeks give the girl an air of freedom and innocence. Her eyes are still as blue as they could be, and he has to hold back the urge to call her the personification of the Blue and Gold.

Betty really looks cute like that, he thinks.

“ Were you trying to act like a disney princess or was that your audition for playing the role of the flower number 3?” He says, looking at her with an amused smile.

“ Really funny… I guess they forget about the things you can’t see hidden under the flowers.”

“ Well, if I were the director, I would call you back, Bets.”

She chuckled, holding a broken flower in between her fingers. “ I guess I only got the part because I murdered the competition.”

And that is when the 'M' word hits his senses. His eyes widen, the gears in his head start to spin and as he looks at her, Jughead can feel a certain excitement burning the tips of his fingers. There’s something about her position… And something about the scenario and the flowers…

Everything suddenly starts to blend together, and even Betty can tell that there’s something going on with him. She looks at him, with a confused expression ruling her face, and she soon finds herself deciding on wether or not she should call his attention.

There’s something going on with him.

But by the way his lips are twitching, the Cooper girl doubts it’s anything bad.

“ Juggie… Are you ok-“

“ Bets! You’re a genius!”

“ Am I?”

“ Yes! I mean… This is definitely not the best crime scene ever, but the way you fell and all… Do you think that’s how a dead body falls?”

“ … Are you looking at me and thinking about dead people, Jughead?”

“ Yes!” He suddenly pulls her up so they can stand at the same level, and as he observes her with curious eyes, Betty no longer thinks inspiration is something healthy for a young writer such as Jughead.

“ Should I worry about this or not?”

“ No… Maybe, I don’t know. I’m probably having a moment of epiphany right now!”

He's smiling happily at her, consequently causing her own lips to form an amused, proud smile. Seeing him like this is certainly much better than the way he was before, and even if she’s just being casted to play dead in his thoughts, Betty couldn’t be any happier for her boyfriend.

At last, the writer within him is back.

“ Thank you for bringing me here, Betty!” He says, pulling her face for a quick, chaste kiss.

And she can’t wait to read what his murdering words will do to those yellow flowers.

“ You’re very welcome.”