Summary: The Bughead Homecoming slow dance we didn’t get in 1x11
Song: The Safety Dance by Sleeping at Last (Men Without Hats Cover) (X)
Jughead scanned the perimeter of the gymnasium, looking past the overload of blue and gold streamers and balloons to watch his classmates step onto the dance floor, their smiles shining just as brightly as the decorations that Betty and her Homecoming committee had worked so hard to set up all afternoon.
“I’ve never seen so many sequined-lined dresses and uncomfortable-looking footwear in one room before,” Jughead muttered, glancing at a girl from his history class wearing much-too-high heels hobble her way to the opposite side of the room. “This is a new experience for me.”
“Yeah, well you clearly did not go to the Riverdale Riverdance Club’s annual dance recital in the first grade,” Betty told him, smoothing down the silky fabric of her dress with one hand and reaching out to regain her balance with the other as one of her classmates brushed past her on their way to the refreshments table. “Being backstage in that dressing room was an experience that I’ll never get out of my mind.”
“Well joke’s on you, Bets, because I was there,” Jughead informed her, meeting her eyes with a leveled stare and willing himself to keep a serious face.
“Really?” Betty’s heart skipped a beat, her mind traveling to the notion that had always lingered in the back of her thoughts, but never dared reach the surface - Jughead had always been there for her all along, supporting her in everything she did and waiting for her to come to her senses and -
“Yeah, I was the short one in the back row with two left feet and zero rhythm,” Jughead joked, his lips twitching up into an amused grin as he watched the realization of the joke form on her face.
“Ha ha, very funny,” Betty mumbled, pushing back Jughead’s shoulder and silently shaking off the thought she had just let cross her mind, cursing herself for her being so self-involved to think such things.
A crackle sounded from the speakers surrounding the stage, and soon the gymnasium was filled with echoes of pretty melodies and haunting vocals that caused Betty’s head to snap up in surprise. “Juggie,” she breathed, clutching his suit jacket with both hands, the fabric clenching between her fingers as she leaned into the touch. “I love this song.”
“This song?” Jughead gaped at her, his eyes widening and his lips turning up into a mocking smirk. “You love a song that was written as a message to bouncers to stop kicking dancers out of their clubs for pogoing on the dance floor to 80′s new wave music? That’s what we’re going with here?”
“In case you haven’t noticed by now, this particular version of the song is beautiful,” Betty defended the current song playing over the speakers, tugging on Jughead’s jacket sleeve and lightly pulling him towards the middle of the dance floor. “Dance with me?”
“Bets, I wasn’t kidding about that two left feet thing,” Jughead told her, a look of panic washing over his face as he watched the other couples swaying back and forth in time to the music all around him. “I nearly broke my cousin Etta’s big toe trying to waltz at my great aunt Mitsy’s wedding when I was seven. It was traumatic for both parties involved, but I was the one that ended up with the therapy.”
“Please, Juggie,” Betty begged, taking a step forward to close the gap between them, leaning in so that her nose barely brushed the tip of his. “Just this song.”
Jughead’s heart flipped in his chest at the way she was looking at him, all soft eyes and sincere smile, the qualities about her that she knew made him weak in the knees.
“You’re really hard to turn down when you do the fluttery thing with your eyelashes like that,” Jughead caved, finally letting himself be pulled completely into the crowd of swaying dancers just as the music began to pick up.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her hands sliding up his arms and snaking around his shoulders to rest comfortably there as he gently placed his own hands on either side of her waist.
“See?” she breathed as they began moving to the soft and steady beat of the music. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”
“Betty Cooper, I could be skydiving into a shark-infested pool with you and I’d think it was the most natural, life-fulfilling experience of my life,” Jughead admitted, his chin flicking downwards so that he could meet her gaze with warm eyes.
“Well there’s no way you’d find me anywhere near a pool of sharks or a tiny plane that could crash to its death at any moment so I think that we’d better stick with dancing,” Betty informed him. “I think it’s safer that way.”
Jughead raised a shocked eyebrow in her direction as the realization of the humorous timing she had just created with her use of the word “safe” sunk in. “Did you really just say that?”
“Yeah, I think I did,” Betty winced, shaking her head in disappointment at her own accidental pun. “I kind of hate myself for it too.”
“You should,” Jughead teased, his eyes dancing amusedly as he reached up to smooth down a flyaway strand of golden hair sticking to her forehead.
“You look happy, Jug,” Betty pointed out, her gaze focused on the genuine smile plastered on his face as they continued to sway to the beat. “Happy looks good on you.”
“Well I think I can safely say that you are very much a prime factor in the reasoning for that,” Jughead told her, not the least bit concerned with his own use of the word “safe” anymore. As the lyrics continued to pour from the speakers, Jughead realized that the word, and the song, and the dance, had struck a chord with him in a way that he didn’t think possible. “No matter what’s happening on the outside - Jason, Polly, my parents, your parents - I always feel safe, almost lighter somehow, whenever I’m with you. And in case this wasn’t clear, there have been very few times in my life where I have felt that way. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite like this before.”
“Neither have I,” Betty breathed, her gaze locked in on Jughead’s. The vulnerability that they were both feeling seemed to linger in the air for a few seconds before disappearing completely, and Jughead pulled Betty tightly to him, hoping that this moment could last much longer than a three minute slow dance.
“I wish this song could play forever,” Betty whispered into his ear, and Jughead smiled at her uncanny ability to read his thoughts like she always did.
“Well I don’t think I’m ever going to stop this moment from replaying in my head,” Jughead admitted, pulling back from their embrace to place a gentle hand on her smooth cheek. “So in a way, I think it will.”
Just as the last note rang out, lingering for a moment and then fading out completely, the crowd of dancing bodies dispersed all around the dance floor, knocking into each other as the next song began to fill the speakers. But even as the upbeat lyrics overtook the soft and gentle atmosphere that they had just blanketed the room, Jughead still held onto Betty, his forehead resting against hers and their eyes closed as they both continued dancing in their minds, never letting the song or the moment or the feeling of safety they felt with this slow dance, ever fade from their memory.
(Robin assured me this would be funny, so blame her if it’s a dud.)
Juliet: “Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?”
Romeo: “Hey! I’m actually right here, under your balcony.”
Juliet: “Oh! Hey, cool, that’s… not actually what I was asking, though.”
Romeo: “But you said ‘wherefore am I’…?”
Juliet: “Well, 'wherefore’ actually means 'why’, so when I say, 'wherefore art though, Romeo?’ what I’m actually saying is 'why do you have to be a Montague?’ It’s a rhetorical question.”
Romeo: “It’s a what?”
Juliet: “…at least you’re pretty.”
It turns out I played myself, I checked the amount of pages these needed and it went over 10 and if I were to stop it at that point it would literally cut off a page or two so I’m splitting the finale in half which I guess is good since it leaves part three at a very interesting cliffhanger. What will Adrien say in our part four finale?? All i have to say is;
hiiii, here are a bunch of fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of february. I recommend that you read these great fics in march, if you haven’t already. there are SO many good and unique AUs this round, so please check them out!!
(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)
Harry is the world’s most persistent seduction-baker, a questionable dog-sitter, and Louis’s biggest fan. Louis hasn’t written in years, is trying to pass loneliness off as cynicism, and absolutely hates his fans. It’s probably destiny.
With seven years of blissful marriage behind them and four wonderfully unique kids to brag about, Harry and Louis seem to finally have life all figured out and under control. How much more real could it get?
Very real it turns out, when Harry reluctantly leaves home for a 5 day business trip leaving Louis to manage their rambunctious, hyperactive household. Do they really have it all under control or are they just faking it?
Featuring all the usual suspects, inside jokes, embarrassing moments and of course, Harry and Louis’ wild antics + the addition of their four equally wild and outrageous kids.
“You… you still have the dress form I got you for your eighteenth birthday? You’ve kept it for ten years, Harry?” Louis’ eyes flick around Harry’s studio. It’s big and modern, with floor to ceiling windows that help flood the room in bright sunlight, just like the lobby. However, he can’t stop staring at the faded, but present, heart surrounding the “H + L” written delicately in Louis’ handwriting in the center of the mannequin.
Louis is a songwriter who is nominated for a Grammy and he needs a suit. Fast. He seeks out help from a very popular, very mysterious designer who just so happens to be his ex-boyfriend.
*nervous smile* U-Um… This is my attempt… at trying to make a creepy comic…
PS: That is not Seven lol
(Just wanted to add– I labelled this as a spoiler because 707′s real name is mentioned here, not because this scenario happens in the game haha… this is just a fancomic ^^; People seemed to be confused so I wanted to make that clear OTL)
I’ve seen Allura drawn in so many different dresses and I just had to draw her in that glowing dress that Claire Danes wore at the Met Gala earlier this year. That dress just screams ‘space princess’ to me.
So there’s this skele at our school and the students love to dress it up and pose…….and I’m just really mesmerized by their inventiveness. And by fact that the skele didn’t fall apart yet IT WAS FRICKEN EXPENSIVE HOW DARE U DO THIS WITH IT AND MAKE IT LOOK SO GREAT.
Marvel Studios Unveils First Black Panther Footage
On Monday, Marvel Studios opened its doors to select members of the press for the first time.
One of the first clips shown followed Lupita Nyong'o’s Nakia character as she approached soldiers in a jungle. As the soldiers opened fire, presumably aiming for the Dora Milaje, Nakia snuck up on several of them and beat them until they were not only disarmed but unable to fight back.
She did this with several kicks, punches, and hip tosses, all in one smooth, well-choreographed effort.
A later clip saw Ulysses Klaw, as portrayed by Andy Serkis, entering a casino. Being narrated by Danai Gurira’s Okoye, the audience hears that he has eight men with him.
After marching down the stairs, Klaw later comes to a meeting with Martin Freeman’s Everett Ross. Ross jokes that Klaw brought so many people they might as well be dropping a new mixtape. Klaw jokes back, clearly not taking the insult seriously. He wants a brieface.
After a cut, an action sequence ensues. T'Challa is protecting Freeman as they hide behind a table. He uses guns to take out several enemies, providing Ross with enough cover to take his briefcase and escape the casino.
A pair of clips showed two boats approaching Warrior Falls for T'Challa’s crowning as King of Wakanda.
The first clip had Gurira’s Okoye at the lead of a ship. She was wearing gold while the rest of the Dora Milaje was wearing a light red color. As they camera crept towards the group, they chanted and stepped together, lead by Okoye.
In the following clip, a similar angle sees a group of Wakandan citizens, many dressed in extravagant colors, celebrating and dancing together as they approach Warrior Falls to see T'Challa become King.
Both shots were surrounded by huge walls of blue screen which might be replaced with additional boats, endless ocean, or land.
Upon arrival at Warrior Falls, it is time for T'Challa to take on the mantle of King.
The first shot follows Chadwick Boseman’s character down a set of steps and into water at the bottom of Warrior Falls. As the camera follows T'Challa’s sight line, it pans up to reveal the people of Wakanda dancing in celebration of his arrival. He joins in and steps to a beat with a spear and shield in his hand.
The second shot was a reverse, medium close up, focused on T'Challa as he approaches the crowd.
to any closeted trans guys following me and had to wear dresses today because its the “acceptable Easter clothing,” i am sorry and i hope your dysphoria wasnt too awful and i hope you have a good day despite any misgendering or dysphoria and i love you all
you’re no less of a guy because you had to wear a dress, I promise
Summary: As the Crown Princess, you are never seen wearing the same dress twice. Many attribute this to your wealth or your status. If only they knew the reason for your constantly changing wardrobe, was the fact that your husband can never keep from literally ripping your clothes off.
Word Count: 3.4k
Genre: Smut, Fluff
A/N: A continuation of sorts to Blue Blooded, as I was highly amused by Seokjin’s frustration with dresses as well as the revelation that the man has the strength to literally pick up Taehyung and toss him around (courtesy of an ISAC fancam).
As the Crown Princess, you are never seen wearing the same dress twice. Many attribute this to your wealth or your status, the styling of your attire always a topic on the lips of the ladies that attend parties at the palace, and sometimes even some men. If only they knew the reason for your constantly changing wardrobe, was the fact that your husband can never keep from literally ripping your clothes off.
“Jin!” You chastise him when you hear the ripping of fabric as a part of your bodice tears, letting your dress loosen enough so that he can slip the garment completely off your body.
“Sorry,” he mutters against the skin of your neck, starting to walk you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. You sigh, not really sure how sorry he actually is, considering this is the third time this week this has happened.