pattern denim

anonymous asked:

40 jughead x reader please?

40. “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”

“I bet it was that cuphead kid. Y’know, the one with the beanie?”

One of the jock’s friends hits him upside the head. “It’s Jughead, you idiot. And yeah, he was probably jealous of all of the chicks that Jason picked up, or his status on the football team. He probably just snapped and-” The boy made a slitting motion across his throat with his thumb. The group laughs, and Betty and Archie shake their heads. Everyone knew it wasn’t true, but rumors flew fast around this town and a rumor pinning Jughead to a murder was the last thing he needed.

“Oh, shut up, why don’t you?” You seethe, fingers clamping into fists to calm your nerves. “Jughead is one of the sweetest, kindest people you will ever have the pleasure of knowing. Just because he doesn’t take advantage of girls like some neanderthal,” You look pointedly at the jocks in front of you, “Doesn’t mean that people aren’t interested in him that way or that he couldn’t be with anyone.” You calm down a bit, most of your initial anger having faded at the looks of shame the boys have donned. “And, anyway, a bunch of jocks pinning a murder on the person they like to bully is just a little too suspicious, isn’t it?”

At this, the first boy who spoke looks you dead in the eye, giving a dangerous smirk. “Don’t know what you mean by that, L/N. And, how do we know you’re not just protecting your little boyfriend, huh?” Your face falls, the heat from your embarrassment spreading over your chest and cheeks. “C’mon, we all know you’ve liked him since freshman year. When are you finally going to go public with your relationship?”

The jocks laugh and exit the room, seeming to have had enough with you for today. You sigh, looking at the sympathy in Betty and Ronnie’s faces and the wide eyes of Archie. “I should be so lucky,” you mutter.

“Wait, what?”

And that’s when you realize Archie’s wide eyes were directed towards a frozen Jughead, leaning against the doorframe behind you.

So, after running out of the student lounge yesterday as fast as you could while tripping over your words and your own two feet, you had spent all of today avoiding the beanie-clad boy.

Why you thought going to Pop’s was a good idea, that is beyond anyone’s understanding.

He corners you in a booth, legs pressing against your own and an arm slung around the seat, close enough to feel to pattern of his denim jacket and wish it were just that much closer so you could smell the ink that is always sure to emanate off of it.

“Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”

Straight to the point, then. You could do this. You could, goddamn it.

“Well-” You sigh, not having the energy to come up with a half-truth. “Yeah, Jug, I did mean them. I just, well, didn’t exactly mean for you to hear them is all.”

Jughead lifts your chin with his free hand before moving it to entwine with your own. “And why, my dear, would you not want me to hear them?”

Realizing where this was going, you smile and pluck up all of the courage you can. “Jugsy, would you like to go out with me some time?”

He smirks, leaning close to your ear and whispering, “I should be so lucky.”

send me a number (and a pairing or character, if you wish) for a quick imagine!


things i associate with the signs

aries: staying up all night to watch the sunrise. heated debates. silver glitter. hot espresso. chewing gum. laughing after falling over. horror movies. taking you by the hand and running.

taurus: wildflowers. fountain pens. cosy blankets. rolling eyes. secret attics. the smell of the rain. pastel tones. swimming in the summer. raspberries. dust caught in the light. reading on a sunday afternoon.

gemini: jeans with ripped knees. laughing at their own jokes. smiling with their eyes. fruit cider. spontaneous decisions. music festivals. art house cinemas. sleeping next to an open window.  

cancer: old diaries. delicate tattoos. silver jewellery. taking walks in the rain. rosy cheeks. purple flower crowns. fruit tea. long bubble baths. visiting museums. acoustic songs.  

leo: iced coffee. gold glitter. secret jokes. electric guitars. pushing people in the pool. watching horror movies and laughing. lipgloss. sliding down stairs. sitting by the ocean. concerts.

virgo: dramatic sunsets. soft ice cream. glitter nail polish. first kisses. braided hair. watercolour paints. drunk dancing. homemade pink lemonade. sitting on the pavement laughing with friends. 

libra: wine stained lips. distant thunderstorms. vinyl records. sparking water. sunbathing. late night conversations. sunglasses. exploring news cities. giggling. late night pizza.  

scorpio: velvet. bonfires. sandalwood candles. lipstick stained mugs. black coffee. buying more books that they have time to read. listening to music with headphones. magic sigils.   

sagittarius: doc martens. grazed knees. city lights at night. star gazing. red wine kisses. writing in notebooks. the feeling when the plane takes off. film cameras. freezing breath.

capricorn: fireworks. quiet bookshops. rain when the sun is shining. sailing boats. live theatre. secret tattoos. stormy nights. foreign language movies. lucid dreaming. dancing to street music.  

aquarius: morning kisses. looking for patterns in clouds. soft denim. laughing loudly unselfconsciously. telling ghost stories. ink stained hands. daydreaming. iced tea. making travel plans. 

pisces: cherry blossoms. french pastries. early morning coffee. walking barefoot along the beach. sketching in a notebook. collecting travel tickets. sea glass. fresh bedsheets.  

Hold On To Let Go Chapter 8

@empyrealsakaki @misstaurusie @virusap

“Alexande-….Alexandwhore!” Thomas shouted, biting his lip at his small slip-up as he ran after the shorter teen as the final bell rang with a shrill, repetitive sound. Thomas knew that with any luck, Alexander would not notice how his voice nearly cracked at the cruel nickname, if one could even call it that. “Wait up!”

Flinching ever so slightly at Thomas’s loud voice, Alexander stood still, turning his head to watch as the intimidatingly tall football player ran towards him. He couldn’t help but to notice that much like himself, Thomas’s backpack was half-opened with papers and textbooks threatening to spill out.

“Lex, I’m so glad I caught you before you got to leave, I-”

“My name is Alexander. Not ‘Lex’,” Alexander cut him off, his voice cold and eyes narrowed before he realized exactly who he was speaking to in such a way. His feet were stuck in place and his once-narrowed eyes widened in a sadistic form a fear that typically only came to him when he was being crammed into a locker after a long night of cramming for a test and not sleeping. “I-I mean, y-you can call me w-whatever…I don’t…I don’t care…”

Thomas frowned at Alexander’s sudden change in tone, although in hindsight he supposed it might have come off as more of a scowl directed at Alexander, who was nearly shaking in terror. “I…I’ll keep that in mind…Anyways, are you doing anything this afternoon? Going anywhere?”

“Not….Not really…” Alexander mumbled, focusing his gaze on his untied shoes, the double knots having come loose sometime during the school day.

“Great!” Thomas exclaimed, grinning widely. “We need to work on our project.”

A curious look found its way onto Alexander’s face, and against his better judgement, he lifted his gaze from his filthy tennis shoes to the smiling teenager in front of him. And why was he smiling? Usually when Alexander found himself speaking with Thomas, the only smiles were sadistic grins and ones during sighs of relief as the taller teen left.

“You wanted to work? On our project? Together?” Alexander inquired, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly, as he tended to do when he was confused.

“Well, duh,” Thomas replied, still smiling at Alexander, subconsciously smiling wider as he observed the shorter teen’s features- though he was unlikely to ever admit that. “I thought that since we were assigned as each other’s partners, we should actually do our work. Something you clearly are unfamiliar with.”

While normally, Alexander would begin to scream at anyone who said such a thing to him, he simply averted his gaze once more- after all, this was Thomas Jefferson. “Yeah…sure.”

“Your place?” Thomas suggested, lifting a hand and running in through his dark curls, the light cascading down them from the afternoon sun causing a sort of glimmering waterfall of light, or a halo. Although, he supposed, he was far from an angel. What with the way he was thinking of Alexander and himself being together in his bedroom again, and how easy it would be to lean over and kiss him softly…Or just hold his hand. That would probably be better. For the sake of his own as well as Alexander’s wellbeing. “Or we can just study at my house, I guess- whatever’s better for you!”

“We can go to my house…” Alexander answered, suspicion lacing his voice like the soft hemming on an elegant ball gown- barely there, yet still noticeable to the well-trained expert. At least if they went to Alex’s house, he’d be guaranteed at least some fragile form of protection from Thomas’s sharp words and even sharper punches, he thought to himself idly.

After a moment to take a deep breath in attempt to steady his thoughts, Alexander turned around and motioned for Thomas to follow him. After a few steps, he felt the tight grip of Thomas’s hand on his shoulder to stop him from moving anywhere farther away. Half-expecting to be turned around and hit, he flinched, only for Thomas to let go and walk around to Alexander’s side with a smile still on his face.

“I drove here. We can just drive to your house, and it’ll probably be a lot easier than walking all the way to your house. I think I remember the address, so I won’t need directions,” Thomas explained, forcing his smile not to falter as he noticed Alexander’s flinching. He knew that he had no right to be upset that Alexander was this afraid, due to the fact that he’d been the one to cause Alexander all this pain. But this was his soulmate, the person he was meant to be with- platonically.

Alexander simply nodded, following Thomas to his car and swinging the door open somewhat carelessly, stepping in and shutting it behind him. The stiff fabric of the seat scratched against is cheap jeans, torn from usual teenage growth spurts- which Alexander had not experienced very many of- and falling to the ground- as well as being pushed to the ground- many, many times.

“So,” Thomas said as he sat down, shut the door, and started the engine, the soft rumbling filling the small space with sound. “Go straight for two miles, then take a left?”

“Yeah,” Alexander mumbled, staring out the tinted window next to him and idly tracing small patterns against the denim fabric of his jeans. “It’s the one with lavender in the front yard.”

“I remember. It looked really nice. Purple is my favorite color, you know,” Thomas said as he pulled out of the parking lot and began driving through the typical after-school traffic.

“Really?” Alexander asked absentmindedly, not turning his head towards Thomas as he spoke.

“Yeah,” Thomas replied, content that Alexander was at least speaking to him. “Especially magenta. The shade of magenta that you get in gel pens in middle school, that has those tiny specks of glitter.”

“That’s funny,” Alexander murmured, smiling softly and uncaring of if Thomas heard him. “I know someone who absolutely loves that color. It’s the only one they write with.”

Thomas bit his lower lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, the pain a helpful distraction. How long would it take? How long would it take for Thomas to hold out his arm to Alexander, roll up his sleeve, and reveal the dried magenta and emerald green ink on his skin? The words written in stolen time to make up for stolen kisses that they could have exchanged if only Thomas were a better person?

Would Alexander even believe him? If Thomas were to show him the sentences and fragments of words and mindless scribbles from when they were in a boring class, would Alexander believe what he saw? Or would he refuse, tell Thomas to pull over, that Thomas could head home and that he would be fine walking the rest of the way?

As he parked his car in front of Alexander’s house, the lavender perfectly lit by the glow of sunlight, Thomas supposed that it wouldn’t matter how Alexander reacted to the information, since only one reaction was possible. Alex would be hurt. Hurt that Thomas Jefferson of all people was his soulmate, hurt that he’d been lied to, hurt that the person he loved was the person he feared.

Which was why he wouldn’t tell Alex.

No matter how much it pained him.

Some things are best kept secret.

A Perfectly Ordinary Visit

I once again bring another FMA fic!! This one was really personal to me, and I put so much thought and effort into it. I hope you all enjoy, it really means a lot!! 

Ships included: Royai and Edwin (Takes place after the Promised Day and Ed and Winry’s wedding)

It was safe to say that the years following the Promised Day were going surprisingly well. That is, until the brilliant idea to take a long awaited visit to the Elric-Rockbell’s house came into play. Roy wouldn’t have minded a bit of catching up, in fact, he was almost looking forward to seeing how everyone was holding up. No, the problem wasn’t the visit itself, it was what events would inevitably occur, especially after the occurrences in the office over time.

Roy and Riza, after much badgering by their team, were finally a public couple. It felt strange to be so open with their feelings, with everyone knowing the truth, but it just felt right. Roy knew they had been suspected from the beginning, and his offhanded comments regarding their relationship hadn’t helped. He could vividly remember the day Havoc approached him during a stressful work day, when he hadn’t thought once over his replies.

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