#jugheadxbetty

[seriesthingsau]

I haven’t liked Riverdale in so long, and with this “time jump” thing they had an opportunity to turn it around and make it something GOOD. And yet they screwed up AGAIN. I mean, Varchie is so toxic that it shouldn’t ever be a thing. I can’t believe Veronica would ever - as she’s written - be with someone like Archie, after he cheated on her TWICE. And oh don’t get me started on Bughead. Dammmmn guys, Jughead deserves so much better than Betty. I mean, COME ON. She cheated, TWICE. How? How do you even.....? I just.

[addictedtofiction03]

Hey if bughead wasn't shaken by the fact they share a brother when the news broke, they aren’t going to be shaken now. They are in way too deep with each other and I dig it. Is it weird, a little, but it’s bughead and out love outlasts the weirdness forever.

[panic-kaitlyn-blog]

Jughead, Betty, Kevin, Reggie, Moose and FP are the only Riverdale characters that matter 🤷🏻‍♀️

[meygi]

Based on this twit and this need to happen

[ittybittylittlebit-hot]

@darkenedangxls

Jughead wasn’t even listening at this point, mainly because sometimes when Betty was too obsessed with figuring something out, she rambled on a bit. Plus, Jug had enough on his plate right now. He was lost in his own thoughts when he finally locked eyes with Betty again, “huh? i’m sorry what’d you say?” he readjusted his beanie. 

[crownearringsandserpenttattoos]

Discarding the Pastel Sweater Chapter Two: “You strike me as a ‘murder board’ kind of guy.”

It was Friday before Betty found herself talking to Jughead again. She’d spent most of the week avoiding Archie and Veronica. She had decided the night it had happened that Archie must have had something else going on. She was angry, really angry, but Betty liked to try to find the best in people, liked to believe that there was always a reason for their behaviour. She thought to herself, maybe she had done something to make Archie believe that she was interested. So she decided to give him some space and let it go. She didn’t know if this was the best thing to do or not but either way she knew if she told her mother that it would end badly and after Archie’s threat she didn’t feel like she could go to anyone else. So for the fifth day in a row she snuck out to the bleachers during lunch. She hadn’t seen Jughead there again that week and she assumed he must have found somewhere else to go. What she didn’t know was that Jughead had gone there every day to eat his lunch but had seen her there and out of respect for her space, he’d kept his distance. However, he had watched the pretty blonde from afar, curious as to what thoughts plagued her. Today though he decided he was going to talk to her again. Betty walked up and sat in the same spot she did every time she went there for lunch. It was habit and to her slightly comforting. She pulled out her lunch, a perfectly packed salad and stared at it. She hadn’t eaten much since the incident with Archie. Food seemed to make her stomach turn. She started to pick at the lettuce leaves, stabbing them but never bringing them from the bowl to her mouth. She saw something out of the corner of her eye and she looked up to see Jughead coming up the bleacher stairs. It was like looking at him for the first time. She hadn’t really noticed the other day how handsome he was. He was tall and had lean defined muscles on his arms. He was wearing that strange beanie again but this time there was a lose dark curl hanging out underneath it just over his eye. He was wearing well fit jeans, a t-shirt with an ’S’ on it and a dark sherpa jacket. He had a flannel tied around his waist and suspenders hanging down his legs. It was a different look but it was definitely working for him. By the time Betty’s eyes had reached his face she noticed a cocky smirk on his mouth. Betty felt herself blush as she realised she had just been caught very obviously checking him out. “How’s it going Betts?” She liked the way he called her that. It made her stomach flutter. She chastised herself for the thoughts that popped into her mind about how she’d like to hear him call her that more often. She’d met this guy only four days ago and he’d seen her as a blubbering mess. She was still feeling like a blubbering mess on the inside. She needed to focus. “Hello Jughead.” She knew it came out sounding cold. She hadn’t meant it to. She just wasn’t very good at letting her guard down and this boy had seen more of her than she wanted anyone to see already. He had seen her vulnerable and after Archie, that scared her. “Haven’t seen you much this week.” He knew it was a lie because he’d watched her every day. Watched as she walked through the halls, head down, hands curled into fists. Watched as she’d avoided a tall red-headed boy and his raven-haired attachment. Watched as she’d slipped into the bathroom and come out with red-puffy eyes. He didn’t know how else to start a conversation with her though so he guested that this lie was an okay one. “I’ve been here.” She replied with a sigh. Jughead looked past her and noticed an article sticking out of her bag. It was titled “’The truth of the Town with Pep’ by Betty Cooper.” Jughead smiled lightly as he’d finally found his reason to talk to this girl. “You write?” He asked simply. As soon as he said it he knew he’d hit the right button. Betty smiled and seemed to relax a little. She was happy he hadn’t mentioned the other day. “Yeah, I’m kind of the only member of the school newspaper, ‘The Blue and Gold.’ Thats a personal article though, one I've been working on that Principal Weatherbee would never let me print. It’s too controversial you see.” As she said it she looked at Jughead and raised an eyebrow flirtatiously. His interest peaked. “What’s it about?” He asked and leaned in a little closer. Betty wasn’t sure if she should tell him, but something about him made her feel like she could trust him, so she decided to reveal just a little. “It’s about this place she said, motioning towards the school. It’s about the truth. Everyone here, they act so together, so perfect, Riverdale is far from perfect though Jug, there is much more than meets the eye.” He smiled at the way she’d shortened his name, as if they’d been friends for years. He could see as she was talking that Betty Cooper meant business, she was taking her story very seriously and Jughead liked that, very much. He decided to share something with her in return. He reached into his satchel and pulled out his laptop, opening it. As it lit up Betty leaned over towards him to look at what he was showing her. Her arm leant up on his and she could feel his warmth. Neither of them moved to break the connection. Both of them wondering if the other had even noticed. “Riverdale - The Town with more than Pep?” Betty’s eyes went wide as she realised that Jughead was writing an article too, just like hers. “Looks like we have more in common than escaping to the bleachers.” Jughead said as he looked down at Betty. She looked up at him, their faces were so close. They both smiled and looked away, back at the laptop. Out of the corner of his eye, Jughead saw a blush start to rise on Betty’s cheeks. They sat there like that silent for a while until Betty suddenly said  “You should come and write for the Blue and Gold with me.” She avoided looking up at Jughead again, knowing that if she did she might not be able to look away. She found it too easy to get lost in his blue eyes. “Would I get complete freedom?” He asked “I’ll help and edit and suggest, but it’d be your story, your voice.” Betty sat back and smiled at him. He didn’t look fully convinced. “Doesn’t sound like complete freedom” She looked up at him, her big, green eyes wide and Jughead knew he was done for. “But, I’m in.” She smiled the biggest smile he’d ever seen on her and he knew in that moment that he would do whatever it took to keep her smiling that way. “Thank you Jug! If you like I can show you the office?” Jughead was wary, he tried to avoid the school at lunch time as much as possible. He didn’t like people very much, Betty on the other hand, Betty he liked so he found himself agreeing and watching her stand up and excitedly put her things in her bag. It was then that he frowned and noticed that she hadn’t eaten anything. The thought didn't last long though as he watched her practically skip past him to get to the stairs. As she walked down them, he watched as her blonde ponytail swung from side to side. He was a little mesmerised by the movement. When she got to the bottom she turned and still smiling she said “Well are you coming Jug?” So he grabbed his laptop, stuffed it back into his satchel and made his way to her. Betty talked the whole way to the Blue and Gold office, telling Jughead about what she wanted to do with the newspaper. How she wanted to use it to tell the truth. He was impressed by her passion and sudden change of mood when she talked about the paper and writing. As they walked together he noticed the red-headed boy that Betty had been avoiding make eye contact with her. She quickly looked away and stopped talking. When Jughead made eye contact with the red-head he was surprised to be greeted with a glare, filled with distaste. It wasn’t like no one had ever looked at Jughead like that before but he didn’t even know this guy. “Who’s the red-head guy over there.” He asked Betty innocently. He noticed that her body language changed. She crossed her arms infront of herself as if to create a barrier and then she took a quick breath and plastered on a fake smile. “That’s Archie Andrews, captain of the football team, most popular guy in school, blah blah blah.” “He seems like a dick.” Jughead hadn’t meant it to come out of his mouth but it had. Betty let out a laugh that she quickly tried to disguise with a cough as they entered a room with a few desks and old computer monitors. “This is it.” She said beaming and gesturing around the room. It was small and quaint but it was where she’d written her best work. Jughead could tell she was proud of it. She pointed to a desk on the right hand side. “That can be your desk. It’s closest to the cork board and you strike me as a ‘murder board’ kind of guy.” He had no idea how she’d picked that up but she was right. He put his satchel down on the desk and looked around. He noticed Betty’s desk was the one closest to his and he had to hide a smile. He could work with this. His own space and one that was only entered into by Betty Cooper. Yes, this he could definitely work with. 

Chapter One: https://tvshowfanblogger.tumblr.com/post/172440965930/discarding-the-pastel-sweater-chapter-1-meeting

[betsjuggiecooperjones]

Hi! I found your tumblr through the suggested blogs sidebar and I am so happy I did, your writing is excellent!!! If you don't mind a Bughead prompt from someone you don't know: "An SOS at three am rarely means anything good." Thanks for taking prompts.

I’m soo sorry that this took so long, but here we go! (SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2)

Jughead rolled over, rubbing his eyes as his phone vibrated frantically. It was 3:05 am and he had 3 missed calls and 4 texts from Betty.

“SOS”

“Jug, I need you, call me.”

“Juggie, I’m scared.”

“Call me now please.”

Jughead’s heart began to race. He sprung out of bed and threw on pants and a jacket, not caring that his black hair stuck straight up in all directions, or that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He sent a quick “omw” text to Betty before sprinting out of the house.

The rain soaked through his entire body, but he didn’t shiver as he navigated the dark streets of his childhood at full tilt. The black pavement hid the puddles that splashed into his shoes as he ran, soaking his feet. He had forgot socks in his rush, but he didn’t care that his feet were being rubbed raw and blisters were forming at his heels, he couldn’t care, there wasn’t the time. Betty was a strong woman and if she needed him this badly then it had to be something so awful that it was worth running right through the pain. 

Jughead stopped on the Andrew’s front stoop, uncaring at how the sight might look. A southside high kid sopping wet, on the idyllic front porch of a vigilante. He couldn’t care as water droplets slid from his hair, down his forehead and into his eyes as he dialed a familiar number.

“Arch. I need your ladder. Now.” Jughead could feel his voice getting more and more frantic, full blown panic apparent to his childhood best friend. He was so close, but so far. He didn’t know what was wrong, didn’t know if he’d make it there in time, just that he needed to. Betty needed him and that was the only thing that could matter right now.

Archie flung open the door, but didn’t say a word, knowing that Jughead would panic further if he asked. They simply looked at each other before racing, Jughead soaked and Archie barefoot wearing only boxers to the shed, sliding in the mud.

The two, now drenched, boys quickly set up the ladder under Betty’s window. Archie held the bottom, worried that it may slip and his best friend would never make it to the stunning blonde at the top, but rather to the hospital as Jughead ascended. 

“Jug!” Betty flung open the window, tearing streaming down her face. He quickly climbed over the window seat, not caring what he got muddy in the process. Jughead wrapped his arms tightly around Betty, soaking them both to the core in his muddy embrace. 

“Betts. Babe. What’s wrong?” Jughead pulled slightly from their embrace, tilting up Betty’s chin to look into her watery eyes. It killed him to see her cry. But sometimes the clouds envelope the sun, even when the sun is as beautiful as Betty Cooper.

“The Black Hood called.” Ice filled Jughead’s veins as the colour quickly drained from his face, he could feel his heart descend to his stomach. 

“He s-s-said” sobs wracked Betty’s body “That he knows I-I-I gave t-t-the l-l-letter to Sheriff K-Keller, and th-that he’s going t-to take away wh-what I l-l-love the most. S-s-so I needed to see you so I knew y-y-ou are safe.” 

Under any other circumstance, it would have made Jughead’s life to know that he was the one thing that his crush of nearly all of his 16 years, Betty Cooper, loved more than anything else, but he had no brain space to think about that. He only knew that the choice that they had made had put her in danger, grave danger. 

As Jughead brought his lips crashing down on Betty’s, only one thing was running through his mind.

Keep her safe.

[clozzersaurus]

Hello what have we here😏

[beaniecladcad]

continued from x  @bubblegumxveil

“I’m not trying to do anything, Betty..but neither are you. You go on and on about how you’re accepting this part of my life but it’s not something that you understand.” There was a noticeable pause of silence between them, Jughead adverting his gaze from her and instead focusing on the wall behind the blonde. “You’re never going to be able to understand it so stop acting like you do.” A breathy sigh escaped from his slightly parted lips as he finally made eye contact with her.  “Just call before you show up here, okay?"

[fxyeahriverdale-blog]

You Were A Kindness

Chapter 11: Shady Business

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11434299/chapters/26084280

[addictedtofiction03]

😂😂😂😂

How about little Jug?

Not mine. Credit goes to bettynews on Instagram.

[bettycooperforever]

~jughead jones wanted~

jughead jones wanted for a rp 

here are just some of my ideas: 

-betty and jughead talk about being dark 

-jughead comforts betty when she harms

-betty finds jughead crying and helps him

-bughead has a nice movie or drive in movie date

-betty wears the serpent jacket for jughead

-bughead keeps getting interrupted when they have heated moments like 1x13 and the couple times they don't

-bugheads first make out, first time jughead sees bettys arms, first cuddles, first times etc. 

-betty on jugheads birthday but she gets it right(tbh i love when jughead says “i wish we were alone” after betty sings def inspired)

like or message for starter!!

[willowelijah]

You’re odd, like me: Ch 7

A bughead fanfic.

Read on fanfiction.net

On tumblr: (Ch 1) (Ch 2) (Ch 3) (Ch 4) (Ch 5) (Ch 6)

Summary: Jughead is not interested in girls, ironically this seems to make a lot of them interested in him. Except for Betty, and it drives him crazy when she won’t show any interest in him after spending so many late nights together working on The Blue and Gold.

Authors note: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER. Get ready to be comfortable with the word aptitudinal. I don't know how it happened, but it was used a lot in this one for some reason.

Chapter 7

I'm standing right outside her house. Which, I know, sounds like the premise of a horror movie. It's not all that creepy I swear! She did invite me after all.

She did invite me. I try to convince myself.

I tried to stay at the Twilight, I really did. But as I looked around the room all I could think of was the night when she had sat in that chair, and looked out of that window and had her feet on that stool. The room has been warmer in a non-heat related way since that night. I could visualize the exact look of concentration she had had and her tired eyes. When I tried to think of something else I eventually would slip back down the rampage toward her again. Much like graffiti I am permanently marked with her tag, or rather, essence.

Yet her essence is not enough, so here I am. Standing behind the tree outside her house. Again, not like a creep! She did invite me. The reason I'm behind the tree is because, even though I have made the whole journey over here, I am still not quite sure if I will take her up on her offer. Normally I wouldn't come, merely out of not wanting to seem desperate, but facts faced: I am desperate. Truthfully I really don't want to stay a second longer than I have to in that projector room. It feels like I am sleeping in someone else's house; it's a shelter, yet not quite comfortable enough. Although I guess Betty's house would be someone else's. But Betty isn't someone. She's Betty. And she actually really seemed like she wanted me to come. And also, I really want to come.

I would climb up to her window but I don't want to be one of those so-called "romantic" creeps in movies who climb up a girl's house uninvited and knock on a her window. Not cool. So I send her a text.

I'm outside your house. The text reads. I try to ignore the creepy undertones as I wait for her reply.

She did invite me. She did invite me. She did invite me.

Scared she'll invite me in, scared she won't I wait behind the tree. That's when I hear it. Her voice. "Jughead!" She calls as silently as she can. After seriously contemplating staying behind this tree for the remainder of the night I step forward. It's the thought of returning to the solidarity of the Twilight that forces me to emerge from the shadows.

I see her leaning out of her window, her room being the only source of light.

"You're going to have to climb." She says in a not so hushed anymore voice. It's a challenge, I can sense, and I smile a smile that I'm not sure if she detects.

"Are you sure about this?" I ask while giving the rose trellis ahead of me a sceptic look.

"I don't mind. I guess it's up to you whether you think you have the aptitude." Her tone is nonchalant, it's teasing. She doesn't think I can do it.

"I reckon it's less about aptitude and more about whether the lattice will hold me." I grab onto it to try and make out its stability. The fact that it's made of wood doesn't comfort me at all. "Here I come." I say loudly enough for Betty to hear me but not to wake her family. As I make my way from one plank to the next, reaching for another something to grab hold of, I think of Betty's room. I try to imagine it, but I find it kind of hard to. What's harder to believe, is that I'm going to see it for myself as soon as I've managed to climb this thing.

"How's it going?" Betty's voice can be heard from the upside of the roof. There's still that annoying challenge to it and I wonder if she's even worried for me. Because I'm starting to worry for real and my heart is beating fast. The problem isn't so much the climbing anymore and now it's the fact that I'm presumably supposed to make my way over the edge of the roof, which doesn't seem very likely in my head at the moment. But then, in my moment of despair, when I'm just about to seriously consider making my way down again and leaving this town for good, an angel appears. I look up to see Betty now sitting right above me on the edge. My eyes go wide at the sight of her.

"What are you doing?" I say a little too loudly.

"Shhh! Let's not raise our voices Jug, I'm right here. Anyway, it's okay, I'm out here all the time." She whispers reassuringly.

"Oh, okay. It's just with you being on the edge you are way too near the edge in my opinion." I wonder if she can even detect the intended humour beneath my exasperation.

Betty laughs and hoists herself up to a standing position, only to squat down again. She reaches her hand out for me. "You're going to need someone to pull you up."

I look at her and to my astonishment her expression is dead serious. So I guess I'm just going to have to do this. I run the thought through my head once: that, although it may seem dangerous, this is now something that I will soon do.

"Seems a little dangerous." I say with a shaking voice.

"To the untrained eye." Betty smiles. "Honestly, me and my cousin would do this on a regular when we were little. It's not a problem." She extends her arm once again for me, it seems she is ready to go. And honestly right now, the thought of falling on my back from this height is more soothing than the thought of folding and trudging back home. So I take hold of her arm in an iron grasp, and she pulls me over the edge to the safe haven.

The threat is terminated, but my heart still pounds loudly in my chest. The only thing I'm thinking of as I lay panting on the hard roof tiles is that missions often seem less intimidating while one has yet to actually embark upon them. This was one of those cases. I also wonder whether or not Betty can hear my heartbeat.

"Congratulations, you have now reached the safe haven. Your 72 virgins are just around the corner." Betty says while lying down next to me.

"You do know that haven in safe haven and heaven are two different words, right?" I ask her. "They're not even homophones."

"Still a funny joke." She retorts. "And by the way Jughead. That was pretty aptitudinal what you did just now."

A smile breaks out across my face as I stare upwards at the sky. "Oh, what? You're making up words now? This has gone too far Betty."

"First of all, aptitudinal is a word, look it up. Second of all, what happened to, and I quote, 'I don't subscribe to prescriptive grammar' end quote." She mocks me.

"Making up words is not really the same as not believing in prescriptive grammar." I retort although I can't seem to make my smile disappear.

Betty sits up and looks at me; thankfully her smile is still attached to her body as well. "Really? Because making up a word and ending a sentence with a preposition seems equally silly to me." She starts making her way back toward her window and I follow.

"I do agree however, that it was most definitely very aptitudinal of me. I reckon it almost measures up to your legendary kick-flip." I keep teasing as we climb.

"So we're on board with aptitudinal being a word all of a sudden? And yes, although I feel strongly that your work was aptitudinal indeed, I believe my kick-flip reaches the highest height on the Richter scale of aptitude."

When I get to the window she's already sitting on her bed. She suddenly looks a little insecure while I step inside as quietly as I can. She's in a t-shirt and a pair of soft shorts. Despite being the only source of light from the outside, her room is dark except for some fairy lights lighting the walls. Betty is quiet and I inspect her room without trying to make it seem like I am. The colours are dark, there are posters of bands I have no clue about and there are a lot of plants.

"You like plants?" I ask in a lack of other things to say.

She studies me for a second. "They clear the air … and I clear theirs." She says and picks up her nearest plant on her nightstand and breathes barely audibly on to it.

I try to smile but it comes out irresolute and she rolls her eyes.

"I don't name them or anything. It's just nice to have a little bit of nature with me as I escape to a highly mechanic indoor world." Betty still has that insecure tinge to her that erupted when we entered her own personal safe haven, so to speak. It's fun to see her not be the girl who skates around Riverdale High in her own world. Even if that is the girl I've had an interest in from day one.

"Well if you're not going to name them..." I tread cautiously toward one of the plants on her desk, eyeing her for permission.

"Go ahead." She says.

Most of the plants are just green leafs, I suspect some sorts of herbs. But some of them are actual flowers bursting with colours like lilac or yellow, giving some shades to the otherwise achromatic feeling this room has. "What's this plant?" I ask, smelling the leaf of a specifically odd looking one.

"I don't know. I don't usually bother learning about each plant, I just buy random seeds if I like their picture on the packaging."

"I see. So you plant them yourself?"

Betty smiles. "I do. Or I try at least."

I look around at the array of plants she has in her room, they are all placed randomly and there seems to be no thought whatsoever toward the layout. "Seems your attempts are paying off." Betty remains quiet while I further inspect her plants. "This one I will name … Abel."

Betty's eyebrows are raised when I look at her. "Off to a good start." She says.

I ignore the comment and move on to the next one. "You will be called Gabriel." I am seemingly now talking to the plants.

I circle the room, mostly looking at her posters while occasionally naming the plants I pass by. "You will be called Josef … and you are definitely a Maria … does this look like an Abraham or an Isaac to you, Betty?" Until I am left with only one plant left to name. I hesitate before I take a seat next to Betty on the bed. The atmosphere changes, time seems to move slower. My eyes drift to the plant she's holding on to tightly. It's a cactus. I take my finger to poke gently one of the thorns. "I shall name you … Elisabeth." This receives me a look from Betty.

"How come they're all names from The Bible?"

"I just realised that as well and I'm not sure why." I answer. Betty breaks out laughing. "It just sort of happened I guess." I add while laughing with her. We are both cupping our mouths with the intention of not being too loud.

When the laughter dies out Betty falls into a hesitant manner of being, leaving her exterior intriguingly abstruse. She looks at me with eyes as curious as my own. I find myself not having the faintest idea how this night will lead on. If I had been at the Twilight I would have been asleep by now, waiting for the next day, which would proceed to look suspiciously similar to the last. Instead a pair of intriguingly abstruse eyes are staring at me and I'm dying to find out why they are so.

"We should probably sleep." Betty says. She doesn't move a muscle. I look at her, uncertain of what to do.

"Right." This is the awkward part, the part I can't play off by giving her plants Bible names. We now have to be real about the cold truth of the situation, the fact that I'm taking refuge in her room. The fact that she is saving me, she's providing me a home in a way that the Twilight couldn't even try to. But I am an intruder still, upon ground that doesn't belong to me, ground that doesn't really have a place for me.

"As you may have noticed, there is no extra bed. Putting one in would obviously be a dead giveaway to my parents." Betty puts her cactus back on the nightstand. "So you can either sleep with me on my bed or on the floor. The bed is quite big so I really don't mind." She says without really looking at me.

I stand up, suddenly restless. "Yeah, but that's alright I'll just sleep on the floor. No worries." I say while looking around, seizing her bedroom floor since it's the place I'll be spending my next few hours.

"Jug." She interrupts my heedless scurrying, putting my motions to a halt. "You can sleep on the bed." She states clearly, making sure to pronounce every syllable.

I debate in my head what's best to do in this situation. Should I do what I want to, and sleep on the bed, or should I insist on sleeping on the floor? I don't want to do the wrong thing and I want to be a good guy, whatever that even means. But I find myself agreeing to her proposition none the less.

Silently she moves over to one side of the bed and lies down. The silence remains while I remove my shoes and jacket, I don't even bother removing my suspenders before I lie down on the opposite side. She turns the fairy lights off and it's pitch dark for a while until I can see her outline, and then her eyes and then I gradually have a more detailed perspective of her features. I watch her as she studies intently the palm of her hand.

"Remember that time at the party?" She asks quietly, like she's whispering to a small flower. "You took my hand in yours, but you never shook it. What was that?" Her eyes never once leave her palm.

"I wanted you to know that I was aware of your scars. Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"No, it was fine."

"My intention was only ever to be considerate, let you know that you are not neglected." I tried my best to choose my words carefully, but in the end I still felt like said the wrong thing.

"Yes, I understand. It did make me feel …less alone."

I keep staring at the back of her hand while she stares at the palm of it.

The night served to make our brains tired and thus it filtered less, leaving us with a pealed version of ourselves for the other to take part in. The darkness served to make our appearances less conspicuous, leaving a false sense of concealment for us to be relieved by. Possibly as a result of that, I found myself reciting Edgar Allan Poe, "And by strange alchemy of brain, her pleasures always turned to pain, her naiveté to wild desire, her wit to love, her wine to fire."* I feel a little silly, but I plough through and afterward she finally looks at me.

When she doesn't say anything, I proceed to tell her, "If you want to, you can try explaining how you feel. I am very interested."

"It's a mystery." She says.

"I love mysteries." I say.

She hesitates for a long time. But I know she will say something eventually, and it takes a little bit of will power to wait for her, yet I manage.

"I don't have any friends, no one seems to like me." To my surprise she doesn't sound insecure, she sounds casual.

"Are you sure that no one likes you or if maybe sometimes… you shun away from them?" I think of all the times I've tried to make our relation move beyond that of a professional one and Betty has seemed oblivious to my attempts, in her own little world like always.

"Why would anyone be interested in me? Have you seen the way I dress and have you seen the people at Riverdale High?" She asks frustrated.

"Then why do you dress that way?" I ask curiously.

"Because! It doesn't matter, I'm not like them either way." Her eyes are wet but her exterior doesn't falter, she's still hard as a rock.

"And how are you different?" I realise that I've become some sort of bot, I'm not so much here anymore, she's not even looking at me, she's talking to herself and I'm just the catalyst keeping the conversation going.

"They drink, they party, I don't– I've never felt… sexually attracted to anyone." She finishes, and suddenly I'm there again, in her room, right next to her. She looks directly at me for the first time since the conversation started, but I can tell she finds it hard to. "That's why no guy would ever be interested in me." She concludes. "That's why I wear what is comfortable rather than what is pretty. Because it doesn't matter, it won't make a difference." She stares at me and straight through me, if I moved her eyes wouldn't follow. "This is what straight girls would look like it there existed no boys to please."

I laugh at that. "I don't think that's true. Do you really believe they would go through all that trouble just to please boys? I think they do it for none other than themselves."

"Are you saying girls are selfish?" She jokes and I laugh.

"You're twisting my words." I smile.

"I'm a writer, get used to it."

"Right, forgot you're a professional word twister." I say sarcastically.

Betty manages a smile but I can see that she is somewhat emotionally drained. "You don't seem surprised." She says but realises subsequently that I have no idea what she's referring to. "About me being asexual." I can tell the words are new even to her when she says them and I can't help but wonder how she can be so confident in talking about herself and expressing her feelings, how she can be comfortable with using such a strong label.

"Well… I will begin by saying that I don't usually assume things about other people's sexualities. Although the idea… it hasn't not occurred to me." I pause to look for her reaction, when it doesn't come I continue on. "And now that I know it's clear… It's in everything you do. It's you." I finish, completely unhappy with my feeble phrasing.

"I've had these fantasies about getting drunk and doing it just to get it over with. I've thought I was gay and I've thought that it came from my insecurities and that if I would just learn to love myself then I would get comfortable with loving someone else intimately. But lately, very recently actually, I've learned to accept it. Not stopped wishing things were different, but accepted it." She blurts out all at once like a song.

My heart beats fast. I felt a rush at her words, or more precisely, at how well I identified with them. I want to tell her how much the same we are, but I find I simply can't. Stating something, which I have been supressing for so long, is too much for me in this instance. I am not prepared for this. I look at her, trying to telepathically mediate what I feel instead. But she is no mind reader. Of that I'm sure.

"But you." She begins. "You have a lot of… fans. Yet you never seem interested, why is that?" She queries.

"I guess it comes down to feeling like I don't have anything to offer them. This notion that I won't be able to give them what they want." I sigh.

"And what is it that they want, do you think?" She looks into my eyes, really looks for the first time, not letting go. I'm scared she will see through me and I don't quite hold her stare like I wish I could.

"I'm not sure." I finally mutter, but it's useless, she has already seen it in my eyes.

"Are you asexual?" She asks.

"No." I say before I have time to think.

The quiet paves an audial way to the wind outside.

"I just think that sex is stupid." I say. In retrospect the statement seems a little childish, but Betty gives me a doting smile.

"Then don't be asexual, just let us share that opinion an all be well." She says.

I briefly wonder about the time, but I soon come to find that that's not where my real queries are. Once I've mustered enough courage I ask, "Do you like kissing?"

Her mouth twitches. "I don't know. I've never tried."

"You haven't had sex either but you still know you don't like that."

"Fine." She smiles. "I believe I do like kissing." She covers her face in her hands fleetingly in an attempt to shelter herself from sheer awkwardness. The motion is small, but it sparks something inside me. The field of my vision slithers down to her lips.

"Would you like to try?" I ask in the darkness of her bedroom with a vulnerable tinge to my voice. I would be surprised by my own profoundness, but she isn't this distant goal anymore. She's a person, and we are on the same level.

"Okay." She says, but she looks scared. "But I don't know what to do." She further explains.

"That's okay." I say impatiently. I move toward her, my breathing is slow. The truth is I don't know either. I have no damn clue. But although missions often seem less intimidating while one has yet to embark upon them, only for you to find out they are a hell of a hassle, some of them are still worth pursuing and some of them you find out later to not be as intimidating as you thought.

When our lips meet I come to find that the latter is in this case true. What has for so long felt completely unobtainable, feels entirely natural with Betty. I take hold of her neck and she takes hold of mine and we pull each other closer. Her lips twitch into a smile, causing mine to do the same. We hold on to each other for as long as we can until we can hold our breaths no longer and fall back on our individual pillows, staring at the roof.

"That was good. But we have to try again." Betty breathes.

I beam at her. "Again you say?"

"I'm sorry, but we have to use tongue I think. Otherwise it doesn't count." She says like it's a matter of fact.

"Don't apologize to me." I say and lean in toward her again, there's a newfound craving inside me to be close to her.

Right before our mouths meet she stops me. "Just be careful though." She's got her hand on my shoulder, which I like. "Don't use too much tongue, it's just supposed to skim the lips I think."

I look at her lips while I whisper, "Fine." I've found out recently that it's my new favourite place of hers to look at.

She eventually releases her hold on my shoulder and I am free to lean in toward her, I do it as slowly as I can. I do believe that slow is key here. Sort of like a constructed pause in rhetoric's. And just like tea it is not the way she tastes when I kiss her but the way she makes me feel inside. Sort of like everything is tingling. The only sounds that are heard come from the wind outside and out mouths moving together, figuring out along the way, how much of our tongues are needed.

"And so being young and dipt in folly, I fell in love with melancholy."* I recite to her once we've drawn apart.

---

8 June 2017

* The poem is Romance by Edgar Allan Poe.

I’ve been sitting with this chapter for basically two days straight and would be very thankful for feedback even in the slightest form! Reblogs are also always nice.

Thanks to everyone who read along!

[neeenaaa]

So, this was the song that was playing at that scene at Pop Tate’s when Jughead and Betty made up in Episode 10. I just found it so appropriate not just because of the lyrics, but it also has that sort of nostalgic, old jukebox feel to it which added to the "late night at the diner" mood.

Now what I need is for You to take these words And don't ask for more.

[crownearringsandserpenttattoos]

Discarding the Pastel Sweater Chapter 3: Place Your Hand on my Cheek

Weeks had gone by and Betty and Jughead had spent most of their time together outside classes. They’d sit in the Blue and Gold office and talk while Jughead would eat and Betty would pick at her food, only eating a little during pauses in their conversation. They had talked mostly about movies and books and articles. Jughead noticed that she would always stop herself before she revealed too much and he wondered why but didn’t push. He felt his feelings for Betty grow as the weeks went by. He found her mesmerising and when she would talk about writing, he was completely entranced. She would light up, smiling and talking with such enthusiasm that he remembered why he loved to write. He had noticed that she continued to avoid Archie Andrews and the raven-haired girl. He hadn’t asked why, remembering how she had reacted when he’d asked who the red-haired boy was. Most days her phone would buzz during lunch and he saw that it was someone called Veronica. Betty would just ignore the call but Jughead had a feeling that it was the raven-haired girl. He wondered what was going on in Betty’d life. Who was really behind this girl who loved to write and always wore pastel and a perfect ponytail. As the days went by she continued to feel like a mystery to him. He didn’t want to push her but he couldn’t help but feel a tightening in his chest every time she looked sad. He wanted to hold her, make whatever it was go away, tell her that it would all be ok. He had never wanted to do anything like that before. Most of the people in his world wouldn’t appreciate such displays of affection. So unsure what to do he held himself back and continued to allow her to talk about whatever made her smile. That was until the day she walked in in the same dress she was wearing the day they’d met. He noticed it almost straight away. Where it had fit her figure nicely before, it hung lose. Her eyes had dark circles under them and when she walked into the room he saw that she’d been crying again. The sight of her like this made him stand up from his seat immediately. He walked over to her and she just looked at him, exasperated and broken. He closed the door behind her gently and took her hand and sat her down on a chair opposite his. She didn’t say a word but her lip trembled and she wouldn’t look in his eyes. He leant forward in the chair and took her hands in his. Her touch was soft and he marvelled at the smoothness of her skin. She still hadn’t looked at him.

“Betty, what is it.” He asked it so softly that she wasn’t even sure if she’d heard him. She didn’t want to look at him for fear that if she did this boy who she’d spent so much time with in the past few weeks would finally get past one of her barriers. She was so close to breaking and she needed to speak to someone but Jughead was all she had right now and she was afraid of scaring him away. She felt him let go of one of her hands. It felt empty where he had been holding. Her eyes began to sting and a single tear rolled down one of her cheeks. Then she felt his fingers so softy tilt her chin up to look at him. As soon as her eyes connected with his, she was gone. Those ocean blue eyes held so much sincerity and care. Care she didn’t know anyone could feel for her. She started to sob and she felt Jugheads arms come around her and hold her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

“Shhh, Shhh, Betty, what is it? Talk to me.” He was so gentle with her. His fingers slowly running down her back and soothing her. When the tears calmed and her trembling stopped she leaned back and looked at him. He immediately took her hands in his again, not wanting to break their contact.

“Jug, my life is an absolute mess.” He just looked at her, waiting for her to go on. Allowing her the space to talk as he just rubbed circles on her hands with his thumbs.

“There is this boy at school.” Jughead felt his chest tighten a pang of jealousy coursed through him at the mention of another man. Betty noticed something flit through his eyes and she wondered what it was but decided to think nothing of it and continue.

“He’s got a girlfriend but the other week, he.. he did something to me.” This time the tightness in his chest was for a whole different reason. Jughead was not known back at South Side High for being able to keep his temper under control. He looked at Betty with a menacing look in his eyes, trying to keep himself cool he asked her as gently as he could manage.

“What do you mean? What did he do to you?” Betty was a little taken aback at the look in his eyes but he continued to rub reassuring circles on her hands and she didn’t feel like the look was directed at her.

“Do you remember the day we met Jug?” Of course he did. That wasn’t even a question. That was the day that he’d started to fall for her. Literally at first sight. He’d seen her sitting up on the bleachers. This gorgeous blonde, he’d always had a thing for blondes, he had stopped when he’d first seen her distracted by how beautiful she was before he’d noticed she was crying and then he’d called out to see if she was ok as she’d crumpled down on the bleachers and fainted. He’d run up to her then. She hadn’t been out for long, just long enough for her breathing to calm itself and for him to notice that she looked like an angel. When she’d opened her eyes it was like a pair of deep green emeralds stared at him. They were the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. He’d frozen for a minute just looking in them before she’d sat herself up abruptly and he’d been snapped back to reality.

“Of course.” Was all he could say as he remembered that day.

“Well just before we met, I’d been trapped in a locker room with this guy and he…” She sniffed and tears started rolling down her cheeks again. She looked up at Jughead and it all started to come out. “He kissed me, but I didn’t want him to. I told him to stop and he kept going. I just froze Jug, I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t until he started pulling my skirt up that I realised what he was going to try and I kneed him and ran away. Before I ran though, he told me that if I told anyone he’d just tell them that I’d started it. Ive been trying to keep it in and let it go because my mum would freak and His girlfriend was my best friend and she’d be so hurt and she’d believe him and hate me and and …” Her breathing hitched and she had to stop to take a breath. That was when she saw it. Jughead had let go of her hands and was glaring fiercely out the window.

“Are you mad at me?” She didn’t know why she’d asked it but she was so worried that he was disgusted by the story she’d told him. His head snapped back to look at her then, his eyes softened and he cupped one of her cheeks in his hands.

“No, no, Betts, of course not.” The menacing look returned as he said “But I have something to do.” He knew exactly who it was that had hurt her. He put the pieces together quickly and even though he was supposed to be keeping a low-profile at this school he was fuming. How dare someone hurt this beautiful angel of a girl in front of him. He let go of Betty’s hands and she let out a little whimper. He stood up and stormed out of the office. He was going to find that Andrews kid and he was going to make him pay.

He heard Betty behind him calling out to him.

“Jug, what are you doing? Jug come back.” He could hear the anxiety in her voice so he turned abruptly and she ran straight into him. Her closeness surprised him a little and he took a second to remember what he had been about to say.

“Betts, no one gets to hurt you and get away with it. I’m going to fix this.” The way he said it made her stomach clench. He wanted to protect her, defend her. He almost seemed to feel possessive over her. She cupped his face with both hands in the middle of the hall. She didn’t even care that multiple people had stopped and were watching the interaction. She looked into his eyes willing for him to hear everything she said as well as what she was feeling.

“Juggie, please let it go. I don’t want anyone to know. If you confront him, He’ll tell people it was me.” He looked at her with a tormented look, she could see the anger in his eyes still but it was less now and there was the softness that she’d seen him look at her with before.

“Juggie.” She said it again and he caved. He didn’t want to do anything that would cause her more trouble. As much as he wanted Andrews to pay for what he did, he couldn’t be the cause of anything that would upset her. Besides, the way she said his name like that. It made him hungry for her. Hungry for her touch. He sighed and leaned in closer to her so only she could hear him and he said.

“I’ll let it go for you now Betts, but if he ever touches you again. You tell me, understand?” She nodded at him and let go of his face. He grabbed her hand, again not wanting to be disconnected from her and they walked back to the Blue and Gold office not even noticing that Archie Andrews had been in the hall watching the whole thing. He was glaring at Jughead and Betty as they walked away hand in hand.

Chapter One: https://tvshowfanblogger.tumblr.com/post/172440965930/discarding-the-pastel-sweater-chapter-1-meeting

Chapter Two:

https://tvshowfanblogger.tumblr.com/post/172472988710/discarding-the-pastel-sweater-chapter-two-you

[betsjuggiecooperjones]

Super sleepy and tense jughead getting a massage by Betty?

This is presently an AU but we’ll see, maybe someday it’ll be canon. This is super short but I have a HUGE prompt fill that may actually wind up being multichapter coming for you in the next couple days.

The few steps between his bike and the trailer felt like a journey of a thousand miles to Jughead Jones as he dragged his dark boots across the gravel. It had been a long day, in a series of long days. 

As he opened the door to the trailer, his nose was enveloped in the delicious smell of a perfect lasagna. He groaned in both pleasure and pain as he flopped his dead weight onto the couch.

Betty peeked around the corner, seeing her (now) live in boyfriend groaning into a throw pillow, face down on the couch. She quickly pulled the lasagna from the oven and shut it off before going to join him. 

Jughead could feel Betty sit down gently on the worn couch beside him. He felt so lucky every day that she had moved in, that he got to be with her. He knew, somehow at his young age, that he would love her forever. Her wonderful cooking didn’t hurt. 

That thought was compounded as he felt her soft hands gently kneading into the knots around his spine, someone sensing how much he needed this without him having to say a word. As she worked the knots from his shoulder blades, Jughead could feel himself slowly drifting to a deep sleep.

Betty smiled, as she quietly got up to put the lasagna in the fridge, before padding back and gently laying on the couch with him. She brushed a dark curl from his eyes, thanking whatever existed that she was lucky enough to have him with her, as she too was overcome by sleep. 

And after a long week, they both slept peacefully on the rickety old couch, knowing that no matter what happens they will always be together.