free cooper

Riverdale Asks

Archie Andrews: What are you most passionate about?

Betty Cooper: What stresses you out most?

Veronica Lodge: What has been your biggest growing experience in life so far?

Jughead Jones: Pick a quote that speaks to you and explain why. Or, let it speak for itself.

Hermione Lodge: What do you love most about your hometown?

Cheryl Blossom: What makes you feel most confident?

Josie and the Pussycats: Favorite song right now?

Alice Cooper: Biggest ambition in life?

Fred Andrews: What’s the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you?

Kevin Keller: Describe your best friend

Reggie Mantle: Do you or have you ever played a sport?

Jason Blossom: If you only had one day left to live, how would you spend it?

FP Jones: What is your greatest vice?

Polly Cooper: Did you ever experience a rebellious teenage phase?

Joaquin: What’s one thing most people don’t know about you?

Pop’s Chocklit Shoppe: Where do you feel most at home?

The Blue & Gold: What’s something you’ve done that you’re proud of?

Maple Syrup: Give one peculiar fun fact about yourself

Riverdale Vixens: Would you consider yourself outgoing?

Sweetwater River: Where is the most memorable place you’ve traveled? 

Letterman Jacket: What clique did you best fit into in school?

Pearls: What is a gift you have been given that you consider special?

Ponytail: How organized are you?

Crown Beanie: What is the one thing you couldn’t live without?

The Drive-In: Favorite movie?

Southside Serpents: Tell a story about a time you broke the rules


Here’s some lock screen options for iPhone users! The top two are for the iPhone6, the bottom two are for the 6Plus. @lusterrdust

If anyone wants another phone wallpaper, just let me know what you use and I’ll set the dimensions for ya.

ETA: The previews have a green cast on my screen. If you click on the image, it’ll open up with the grayscale version. Not sure why that is, but just FYI.

Just FYI.

I have over 5000 of you from the Riverdale fandom and I’m going say something now that EVERYONE needs to hear.

1. Sending Hate to another blog for ANY reason is WRONG! I don’t care if you do on Anon or not. You made someone else feel like shit and that’s NOT okay.

2. If you don’t like a blogger, FUCKING UNFOLLOW THEM! Saves everyone the trouble.

3. Telling someone to kill themselves is NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER okay!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don’t what fucking reason you think is reasonable for you to say that, it’s not okay. How would you feel if you were already suicidal and got those messages? Would you want to be reasonable for a HUMAN killing them selves. Would you be willing to sleep at night knowing someone lost a son/daughter, sister/brother, loved one, etc?

4. Ships. I don’t care who you ship. But it is NOT a reason to hate someone. I have plenty of beautiful bloggers that I love who ship different people than I do. You can be a decent fucking human too.

5. Please Spread some Love. I love this Fandom with all my heart and I love all of you. After everything happening in this world, negativity is NOT something that we need. Plus People, we are not even to season 2. Chill and have fun.

6. If a Blogger doesn’t upload on a certain day that they said they would, OH FUCKING WELL. We all have lives outside Tumblr. And It takes forever to writing good fics. Instead of demanding where the fic is, ask the blogger how they are doing or if they are okay.

7. Remember I love you. Especially You. And I am ALWAYS here for you. No matter the problem or if you are just having a shitty day. I. Am. Here. And so are the people who love you. Never be afraid to speak to me.

That’s all I have to say for right now, but feel free to message me.



Okay, another prompt is here! Sorry for not updating sooner, it’s a long fic once again lol! It is sad, angsty (I was listening to a lot of Placebo while writing so yeah) and it turns hot and heavy close to the end but then some fluff concludes it; basically it has it all! :P
Warning for mentions of violence, mild language and sexual themes. I hope you like it darlings and you don’t mind that I combined your awesome prompt ideas! Thank you so much for requesting! And to the rest of you, enjoy! <3

A small summary to tie the three prompts together: After an abrupt break up, Betty is left broken and confused by Jughead’s sudden behavior. Once finding out that he had joined the infamous gang of their small town, the Southside Serpents, Betty sets her mind to sneak into their lair with the only way she knows best. Along with the help of a sudden ally that she comes across on the way, they vow to save Jughead’s soul at all costs. 

(The long dialog in italics is a flashback)

Stars hide your fires;

Let not light see my black and deep desires.

The eye wink at the hand, yet let that be

Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see…

The black velvet of yet another eerie night had spread over the small town of Riverdale, the otherwise picturesque scenery of the alight sky now fearful and pitch black, an ominous sign and a bloodcurdling setting. It coordinated with her jet leather attire, her raven hair and the ghastly temperament that oozed from the cold-blooded sound of heels against dirty and wet asphalt. “Stars hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires…” Every click of stiletto punctuated each word her mind whispered on a loop to the depths of her subconscious, green eyes shining deadly through the darkness, like those of a wolf in hunt for its prey.

If anyone were to run into her on the street, they wouldn’t recognize her; nothing tied her with the image of the nonpareil younger daughter of the Cooper clan. Betty Cooper was dead, locked in the comfort of lavender and chamomile amongst collared sweaters and preppy knitted cardigans. For how long it was yet to be decided but, for tonight, the golden-hearted girl that everyone left behind was put to sleep under the naivety of false ambition and hopeless dreams. Her alter ago was there to deal with the mess the tedious angelic spectrum of her character always seemed to make.

Keep reading


There’s nothing about markets that necessitate private ownership (autocratic ownership) over the means of production. Nothing. Right-libertarians love to praise the (free) market in all its glory, and then in the next breath they’ll praise owners of property and capital as the life blood of markets. 

Now, I have mixed opinions on markets (necessities should be democratized to serve communities, but I suppose there are sound arguments in favor of putting non-essentials into a marketplace), but I also recognize that markets and capitalism are two separate things – the former is a means of allocation and the latter is a socio-political-economic organizational mode; the former can be found in a variety of systems and the latter is a particular system that subordinates labor to capital and involves that autocratic management style at the helm. 

Mutualism is a leftist setup that utilizes markets for allocation, but it ditches the private/autocratic control of capitalism by structuring institutions cooperatively. By extension, it does away with absentee ownership and rent, exploitative functions of class society that thrive under capitalism. Think about it – what do landlords, CEOs, rent, and hierarchical surplus appropriation have to do with markets? Again, nothing – neoliberals/right-libertarians already have their reactionary focus set upon the inherent class stratifications of capitalism and the market rhetoric is merely the “freedom-oriented" superstructural justification for it all.

Capitalism itself can even be non-market-oriented. State capitalism (basically what everyone and their grandmother, including cappies themselves, think socialism is) is a variant that replaces private owners with state officials and the system as a whole can function with a market or with government-planning, but both systems are still capitalism because there is still an owner of capital sitting at the top of a pyramid milking workers of surplus and autocratically deciding what to do with that surplus (unless the state puts the surplus towards things that the people democratically decide need attention, but that doesn’t ultimately change the organizational class structure); labor is still subordinated to capital.

All of this is a really important distinction too, because it highlights the farcical fetishization of markets as a cover for something deeper. A market economy within the capitalist mode of production exacerbates inequality because it requires that workers sell their labor like any other commodity to a capitalist buyer, and I think that many reactionaries know and understand this well. Class inequality, a societal “obligation of deference and command”, is, as I argued in a post a couple days ago about Hans-Hermann Hoppe, the foundation of rightist ideology; there are a variety of ways in which this desire for a vertical social order is expressed, and I fundamentally believe that cultural focus on “markets” and “freedom” is our epoch’s way of dodging the inequality question. Because, ultimately, it is in poor taste these days to come right out and say that there is a “natural order” of elite and tenant, so shifting the attention onto “liberty” and installing a “private property is not government and not government is freedom” mindset into people becomes a powerful mechanism for the ruling class to maintain dominance.

If you are a right-libertarian who genuinely believes that markets uphold freedom, but have no personal attachments towards the superfluous hierarchy of class stratification we have in our present market economy (and maybe even wish to see it remedied), then I would strongly recommend checking out mutualism and even Center for a Stateless Society’s “market anarchism”. Both acknowledge that private property – the autocratic management of socially-operated production and activities – is a deviation from legitimate individualism, and they advocate societies where workers run self-managed enterprises in a market economy.

Furthermore, because a setup like this breeds a flatter society, you’re less likely to wind up with cronyism or “corporatism”; you may argue that corporatism and state intervention are deviations from genuine principles of capitalism, but you must understand that the inherent class nature of capitalism inevitably leads to a ruling class that owns the means of production and has the ability to mold government policy to its own benefit because of that societal power – “pure capitalism” generates the conditions for “corporate capitalism” to always take root, in other words. Cooperative structures, ones that don’t have a naturally self-interested owner at the top looking to bend market laws for their benefit and pay off politicians, are much less likely to generate chasms of wealth and power inequality, and in effect you wind up with a freer and more fulfilled population of people.


anonymous asked:

Jughead and Betty cuddling in bed she's asleep having a nightmare and Jughead comforts her????? thanks

Here you go Buttercup!! Hope you enjoy it

Jughead ran his hand through Betty’s soft hair. She had taken it down from her tight ponytail and he was glad for that. He loved seeing her shiny blond waves free. Jughead had also taken off his beanie, freeing his hair. Betty loved running her hands through his hair as much as he loved running his through hers.

The two were lying in Betty’s bed. Betty was curled up against Jughead with her head on his chest. She had been lightly tracing her fingers up and down his arm, but eventually, they had stilled, leading Jughead to suspect that she was asleep. Her breathing had deepened and she had sunk further against him.

Jughead himself was wide awake. He wanted to enjoy every second of holding his beautiful girlfriend in his arms. He wanted to memorize the feeling of her body against his and how they fit so perfectly together. He could listen to the sounds of her breaths forever.

Suddenly Betty jerked slightly, her hand fisting in the material of his shirt. Jughead tilted his head and saw that her eyes were still closed. He ran his hand across her back, hoping to soothe her from whatever dream she was having. Betty mumbled something that Jughead couldn’t make out and shifted anxiously against him.

“Betty?” Jughead asked softly, trying to gently pull her from her sleep. She continued to squirm and mutter. Her hand gripped his shirt harder and twisted.

“No, no, no” Betty yelled. Jughead half sat up, pulling Betty with him.

“Bets, Betty, wake up.” Jughead found himself raising his own voice and shaking the girl in his arms. She was squirming a lot, like she was trying to pull away from him. “Betty!” Jughead shouted again, slightly panicked that she wasn’t waking up. Mercifully, Betty’s eyes flew open, and she sat straight up, knocking away Jughead’s arms.

“Wha…” Betty looked around frantically for a few seconds until her eyes fell on Jughead. “Jug?” She immediately relaxed and sighed. Jughead pulled her back into his arms. She was shaking slightly and still didn’t seem like she was fully in the present.

“Shh, it’s okay. You were sleeping.” Jughead brushed strands of her hair back from her sweaty forehead.

“It was Polly,” Betty said, a tear slipping down her face. Jughead brushed it away and kissed her cheek.

“It was a nightmare, but it’s over,” Jughead whispered, not liking the alarm he saw in Betty’s eyes.

“I dreamed that we never got her out of the house and Clifford he…” Betty’s breathing picked up and Jughead held her tighter.

“Shh, Bets, it’s over. Polly is safe and Clifford is dead.”

“It was so scary Jug” Betty buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around him. Jughead could tell that the stress of everything that had happened was finally catching up with her. She had been so strong and steadfast through everything, especially everything involving his father. But she and her family had been through a lot as well, and Betty had been so determined to stay strong that she hadn’t really allowed herself to deal with that. Now her subconscious was doing it for her.

“It’s over” Jughead repeated again, not sure if he was trying to convince Betty or himself at this point. Betty didn’t respond, just kept holding onto him tightly. Her shoulders shook slightly with silent sobs. “Shh Bets, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s over” Jughead rubbed his hands up and down her back, trying to calm her.

“Thanks Juggie” Betty said after a few moments, pulling back and looking up at him. Jughead couldn’t resist bending down to give her a soft kiss on the lips.

“For what?”

“For being here.”

“I will always be here” Jughead kissed her forehead and then her nose. Betty gave him a small smile and leaned up to press her lips against his. Her eyelids drifted closed and remained that way when he pulled back. After a few seconds, Jughead realized that she had fallen asleep once more. Grinning to himself, Jughead shifted so they were once more laying down. This time, Jughead felt his eyes grow heavy. Still smiling, Jughead drifted off to sleep next to his girl.


Augusta Savage (1892–1962)

A prominent name in the Harlem Renaissance movement, Augusta Savage was not just an artist, but also an important Civil Rights activist.

While Augusta showed a passion for art at a very young age, her religious father disapproved greatly. She never let her family’s opinions deter her, as she continued to refine her talents and accepted encouragement elsewhere. Her talent and hardwork did not go ignored, as she enrolled in tuition-free Cooper Union and even received a scholarship which covered living expenses. However, as clearly gifted as Augusta was, many could not see past her race. After completing her schooling, she applied for an art program in France, and was rejected due to her race. Rather than let her set this back, she used her experience to draw attention to these hateful prejudices.

Augusta was finally able to travel and become even more well-known as she received fellowships and grants which allowed her to travel over Europe, later returning to a poor America as the Great Depression was in full effect. Commissions were lacking during this time, but it did not slow Augusta. She opened a studio in 1932, became the first black artist to join the National Association of Women Painters and Sculptors, and was a founding member of the Harlem Artists’ Guild.

By the time of her death, in the 1960’s, Augusta Savage was almost completely forgotten and was far from a famous name at the time. Thankfully, she is remembered today for her Civil Rights achievements through art.

Above: Bust of Gwendolyn Knight, who was a close friend of Augusta, one of her most famous busts: Gamin (1929), and The Harp (1939). The Harp, also known as Lift Every Voice and Sing, was created for the 1939 New York World’s Fair. It was extremely popular, but was destroyed with the other installations at the end of the event.

There’s nothing about markets that require private ownership over the means of production. See mutualism, market socialism, and market anarchism for anti-capitalist market systems.

There’s nothing about “keeping the fruits of your labor” that requires private ownership over the means of production. In fact, workers who are employed under a boss never get to take home the full product of their labor, since the grand majority of it belongs to the boss based on private ownership claims over everything the worker produces. Hell, socialists very often argue “to each according to their contribution”, allotting individuals greater reward the greater their labor contribution to the collective pool, as long as a livable floor is established for all and no one hierarchically owns and manages the workplace.

There’s nothing about “small government” that requires private ownership over the means of production. Worker cooperatives are completely viable. Furthermore, there’s the fundamental idea that collective operations ought to be deliberated on democratically, rather than through an autocratic capitalist or state. Private control over the means of production is not a natural conclusion of “limited government”; if anything, for all intents and purposes, they’re actually opposed to each other.

There’s nothing about organization and management that requires private ownership over the means of production. Workers are perfectly capable of voting on accountable managers and building consensus on organizational aspects of the institution. In theory, we vote on politicians to “help manage” the country, but we in turn don’t expect them to wield power tyrannically or claim sovereignty over the country like a king; the same principle applies to democratic workplaces, in the sense that you can totally separate elected/accountable/immediately recallable management from the hierarchical ownership of the place.

If the idea is that we need to eradicate concentrations of power, then socialism is the way to. If the idea is that we need to maintain individual liberty to the extent that “fists can be swung until they hit another nose”, then socialism is the way to go. If the idea is that we need to build a system where we recognize hard work and labor as the necessary base, then socialism is the way to go.

Twist of Fate (Pt 1)

Hey guys! I’ve been working on a fic idea for a while and I really enjoyed this particular storyline! I’ve decided I want to make it a multi-fic and I’ll probably post it on here and AO3 (when I get that sorted out). I wasn’t sure on how it was going so far so I wanted to post part 1 on here early! Please give me some feedback on if you enjoyed it so far!

               Betty Cooper wasn’t someone you would call anxious. She was a natural people pleaser, but something about meeting her new roommate made her get a jittery feeling in the pit of her stomach. He seemed to be okay on the phone, very literate and sardonically funny. However, she couldn’t shake the nerves consuming her as she walked through the doors of the extremely large and expensive-looking apartment building. For the set price of rent, Betty was surprised. This must be a joke of some sort. Maybe she got the wrong address?

               The building was a bright white, clearing well-conditioned.  Everything about it screamed ‘Glamorous’ but only low-key. There was a metallic silver revolving door which excited Betty more than it should have initially.

               Betty had just moved from her small-town home, Riverdale, in to the big city, New York. At first she was apprehensive, not wanting to leave behind everything Riverdale offered. That being homely comfort, a secure job and her close friends. But she was tired of small towns, she wanted something more. She wanted a better job in a better city. Although, Riverdale wasn’t that far away from her new city. She still felt more independent, more free.

               She was finally free from the clutches of Alice Cooper and all of her expectations. She was finally free from Hal Cooper and all of his rash decisions. She was finally free from the memory of her older sister running away in the dead of night with her boyfriend, Jason Blossom. They often stayed in touch but Betty was still angry at Polly for leaving her. Nothing was ever the same after she’d left.

               Taking a deep breath, Betty walked up to the elevators. She had no clue how to work this thing. Looking at all of the complicated buttons she realized that this was no usual elevator. No, this was the work of the devil himself. She was dragging along two large suitcases and an extraordinarily large backpack that she couldn’t wait to peel off of her aching shoulders. She knotted her fingers through her hair in utter frustration. This couldn’t be happening to her, not today.

               "Need some help there?“ A voice spoke humorously from beside her. Betty whipped her head around, eyes being filled with the sight of red hair. The boy wore a smile, waiting for some kind of response from Betty. His brown eyes had a special glint in them, as if he was excited to be somewhere. He was wearing what looked like gym clothes and he carried a large duffel bag.

               "Would I look ridiculous if I expressed my utter confusion of this hell contraption?” Betty laughed softly, easing her tensed shoulders at the kind looking man standing before her. Like she said, she’s a people pleaser and her humor never ceasing to be a great first impression. The boy let out a low chuckle before pressing a bunch of buttons that Betty didn’t quite seem to understand.

               "I’m guessing you’re moving into Jughead’s apartment?“ The boy asked, already knowing the answer due to his best friend’s constant rambling about a new roommate and how great she seemed. He knew Jughead was excited to finally not live alone, but he also knew that Jughead wouldn’t act excited to Betty. What’s with guys and wanting to play it cool? "By the way, I’m Archie.” The boy shot a friendly glance over to the girl, who shot him a small smile back.

               "I am actually yeah! And nice to meet you Archie, I’m Betty.“ The small talk continued all the way to the outside of the apartment door. It was a metallic black, looking more expensive than Betty’s entire family home. Any nerves that had been settled before were back and worse than ever. She almost believed that her heart was actually beating in her throat. Archie knocked on the door and within seconds it flew open to reveal a slender man that Betty couldn’t take her eyes off of.

               His tanned skin was shown off along his arms by the baggy grey shirt he was wearing. His legs were encased in black jeans, his legs seeming to go on for miles. He wore a red and black flannel around his waist which complemented his slim figure. Raven black hair was messily poking out the sides of the grey, crown beanie he was wearing on top of his head. The last thing that Betty noticed was his icy blue eyes staring at her, a look she couldn’t recognize was plastered on his face.

               "Hi, I’m Betty Cooper?” Betty broke out hesitantly, for some reason sounding like she was questioning who she was. In reality, Betty was just entranced by the boy in front of her. He had something about him that she couldn’t pin point. He was mysterious and Betty liked that. On their call he had refused to even tell her what he does for a living. Stating multiple times that she just has to trust him. And now he’s here, maybe she does. He doesn’t look too harmful.

               "Of course, come on in. I can give you the grand tour of this fine establishment later on but I’m guessing you want to unpack first?“ Jughead chuckled warmly, motioning Betty to step into the room. Archie stepped past the pair, giving Jughead a firm squeeze on his shoulder before walking into a room Betty assumed was the lounge. The apartment wasn’t too fancy, you could tell a boy was living there. Nothing was tidy. She almost had an aneurysm at the sight of the kitchen. Pizza boxes and take out cartons littered the sides, she 100% needed to clean this place.

               "Uh, yeah sure!” Betty politely replied. She stood parallel to Jughead, balancing on the balls of her feet. She was rocking slightly, waiting for him to take her to her room. But nothing, they just stood there for what felt like hours (in reality being about 10 seconds) just staring around. “So… My room?”

I hope you all enjoy it so far! I finish all of my exams in two weeks so I’ll be able to write more frequently for a while. As I said, feel free to leave any feedback, all is appreciated!

Part 2 : Here

Hold Me

Originally posted by fiendfyrx

Hey Anon, super cute prompt. I hope the below is fluffy enough.

“I don’t want you to go home yet.” She admitted to him as they were approaching her house. He had held her at the diner, they hadn’t talked much more about their revelations to each other before deciding to walk home.

“I don’t want to either.” He agreed. He didn’t want to leave her alone. After seeing those marks he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to leave her. A deep need to protect her had risen up in him.

“Maybe we could watch a movie.“ She had enjoyed spending time together just the two of them, enjoying a moment of being two normal teenagers going out to the movies, sharing popcorn and snuggling up to one another. She wanted to capture that feeling again.

“Okay, signal when the coast is clear.” They had done this so many times now him sneaking up to her room that they both knew the drill. Betty was sure that her mum was in bed by now. She seemed to have a different set of rules for Betty spending time with Jughead. There was no way on earth she would have been able to go to bed if it was Archie or Veronica that she was having a late night milkshake at Pop’s with but he seemed to have earned himself a free pass from Alice Cooper which he was very grateful for.

She pressed her lips against his a chaste kiss promising more to come. He watched as she entered through the front door. He should know better than to take the risk sneaking into Betty’s room with her mother in the house. Most of their secret rendezvous took place when Alice Cooper was working late at the newspaper. But Betty had revealed something deep and personal to him and he wanted to be there for her, plus he was not keen to re-enter the Andrews home which was sure to be a disaster zone. Archie had wanted to throw the big party he could deal with the big clean up.

He stayed hidden in the bushes waiting for the tell tale sign of her lamp flashing on and off before he grabbed the ladder from the side of the house placing it gently onto the side of the house resting just underneath the window ledge.

She was sitting on her bed, crossed legged as he entered through the window. Her laptop open in front of her. He sat on the edge of her bed, feeling the usual nervousness that came with being alone with her in her bedroom. The expectations that he would act as any other teenage boy in their girlfriend’s room alone suddenly weighing heavily on him. 

“So what will it be birthday boy.” There was a playfulness in her tone. As she moved the laptop to face him.  He carefully looked through the list of films at their disposal. 

She examined his face in the soft light of the laptop . The dark bruise around his eye and the cut on his cheek the result of his fight with Chuck. The fight he had gotten in because of her. Despite it all, despite her throwing a party that he didn’t want, and her lies here he was. She had bared to him her darkest secret, something that she had never revealed to anyone and he hadn’t recoiled from her, he had taken her scarred hands in his own and kissed them gently. Accepting all of her. 

“It looks painful.” She commented. 

“I should have done it sooner, as soon as he started I should have stopped him. I’m ashamed that I didn’t.”

“Hey not your fault.” She took his hands. “And you were there for me tonight. Plus it looks very rebellious. Almost could I say hot?” She winced as the words came out not sure how he would react. She knew that Jughead was not one to graciously accept compliments especially those that commented on his physical appearance a lifetime of being the weird kid and trying to remain invisible as possible had made him shy and unsure of himself. A blush spread across his cheeks at her comment. He pulled his beanie off and nervously ran a hand through his hair. A curl falling over his bruised eye. She pushed it back away from his eyes, and he looked up to meet hers. “Sorry I know you don’t like…” She didn’t get to finish her sentence as he pulled her onto his lap. His hands moving to her hips immediately holding her in place as his lips assaulted hers. There was a passion and ferocity in his kiss that was different to their usually chaste and gentle kisses in the privacy of her room. She moaned as his tongue swept her bottom lip begging for entrance, she gasped at the movement and he seized on the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His hands were in her hair pulling her golden locks from the restrictive hairstyle she seemed to favour. He pulled back to examine her, eyes blown wide, lips plump and a delicious shade of pink as a result of their kisses.

“Well looks like I got my birthday wish after all.” He smiled at her as she remembered the way he had looked at her when he had said those words earlier that evening. He was looking at her just like that now. He had to admire how beautiful she looked with the soft light from her laptop now cast aside on her bed highlighting her face. 

He felt a sudden pang in his chest. And thought to himself that he may be falling in love with her.

“Is it wrong that I find this hot as hell.” She let out in a breathy whisper. “You defending my honour.” She returned her lips to his, kissing him deeply, letting her hands loose in those waves he usually kept so well hidden. Her lips then trailed to his cheek gently brushing against the cut on his cheek.

“I’m glad you came back.” She whispered. She had felt the relief wash over her when he had re-entered the kitchen after the fight with Chuck. When she couldn’t find him after the punches were thrown she felt for sure that he had been repulsed by the secrets Chuck had revealed about her. That he had headed for the hills and she couldn’t really blame him. But he hadn’t he took her hand and lead her away from all the chaos to the safe haven of Pop’s and a vanilla malt milkshake to share.

“Me too.” He agreed as he felt her lips deliver a feather-light kiss to his bruised eye. Without meaning to she let out a yawn. One that he couldn’t help but imitate.

“Sorry.” She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. She could feel her eyes closing safe in the warmth of his body. “I was up so early this morning, and.” She paused, another blush spreading across her cheeks as she nuzzled against his neck. “Trust me I really want to continue this.” Her lips brushed gently against his neck and he tightened his arms around her.

“It’s okay, Betty. It’s late and there will be other times.” His hand in her hair directed her to look into his eyes and she could see that he was being honest with her.

“Juggie could you just hold me? Just until I fall asleep.” Those wide trusting eyes would be the death of him. He would do anything just to have her look at him like that.

“Sure.” She moved off his lap allowing him to lay down on her bed, his torso propped up by her seemingly endless supply of pillows. She followed him, laying her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her pulling her snug against his body. He felt that need to protect her rising up again. She could hear his heart beating steadily against her ear. Its steady rhythm lulling her into a gentle sleep. 

He knew he should leave when she fell asleep, he couldn’t afford to be in Alice Cooper’s bad books. He had to admit to himself that he was enjoying coming over for early breakfasts, staying for the occasional dinner. It almost felt a little like a family should, even despite all he knew about how imperfect it really was, he couldn’t help but be drawn to it. But he stayed, rubbing his hand gently along her back until sleep eventually overtook him as well.