sorry it really is so scribbly my pen was just not cooperating

anonymous asked:

Hi! Could you write something about soulmates. Like Betty having an abusive boyfriend and all the bruises and cuts show up on Jughead. And there is soulmates in the world so it's not unusual, but Jughead keeps getting injuries from Betty and starts writing on his arm to her and she rights back to him and can you continue this please thank you.

I lovveee these soulmate aus!

“Dude what the hell is that?”

Jughead looked up, confused by the sharp and disgruntled tone of his red headed best friend.

“What’s what?” He raised a confused brow, his eyes scanning his surroundings, searching for something off.

Archie reached for him, pulling Jugheads tanned arm up and into the air, shoving his wrist into his face

“This! Dude if your dad is beating on you again, you can tell me. You know you’re always welcome back at my place, my dad…”

Archie’s voice faded away as Jughead stared at the dark purple and blue bruises littering his arm, fingerprints left nasty circle shapes and some were faded and yellow, they’d clearly been there for a long time. How was that possible? There was no way he wouldn’t have noticed them and he couldn’t remember banging into someone , not to mention he was absolutely positive no one had left those marks on his body, it really wasn’t possible, unless..

“They’re not mine” he whispered, more to himself than anything, his eyes still glued to his arm.

“What are you talking about? Of course they’re yours, bruises don’t just show up, I mean it’s not like.. oh…” Archie trailed off finally understanding

It was Jugheads soulmate.

In life when you’re looking for the one you’re meant to be with, pieces of them become pieces of you. It happens suddenly but there’s no way to know when you’ll meet them. It had happened with Archie last year one day the football player came to school, his lips bright red and clearly made up, Jughead had nearly wet himself, he had laughed so hard as the boy desperately wiped at his mouth, smearing lipstick down his arm.

“It’s my soulmate! Clearly she likes wearing stupid ass lipstick”

Two days later he had met Veronica Lodge at the Riverdale mall, pearls on her neck and deep purple lipstick on her lips plus the addition of two thick black smudges under her eyes, eerily similar to the eye chalk Archie wore to football practice everyday.They had been inseparable ever since.

He watched in amazement as another bruise formed right before his eyes, a deep red welt, similar to the belt lashings he used to get when his father was an alcoholic. It didn’t hurt Jughead physically but the ache in his chest at his “soulmate” having to go through this, made him feel positively violent. Picking his bag up and walking out Archie’s front door, he gripped the bruises on his arm, willing them to stop, wishing he could make them stop for her, she didn’t deserve this, no one did. It was dark by the time he got to the trailer park, his mood volatile and nasty, his father was working on some bike in the front yard and he waved at his son. Jughead stormed past the older man and locked himself in his room, ripping the jeans from his body he stood in the mirror observing his body, sure enough he was covered in the painless bruises.

His eyes filled with tears and he was surprised when he couldn’t hold them back, he hadn’t cried since he was eight years old and his mother left. The door to his bedroom opened slowly and his father stepped in, eyes going wide at his sons bruised body before understanding took over, F.P jones sat on the edge of the bed and held his son as he cried helplessly.

“There’s nothing I can do.” He sniffled
“I can’t help her, I don’t even know her but I can feel her dad” he looked at the bruises once again, his fists clenching “I want to kill whoever did this.” He whispered.

F.P nodded
“I know you do, but right now you can only do so much. So do what you do best.” He rose from the bed, walking over to Jughead desk and handing him a pen


With that he shot his son a knowing smile and slowly closed the door.

Jughead lifted the pen too his arm and took a deep breath.

Betty threw herself on her bed, her body aching from the beating she had just taken. She had tried to break up with Chuck again, she had tried so many times but each time it had ended exactly the same, Betty laying bloody on the floor begging for the angry boys forgiveness.

She rested her face on the soft silk pillowcase and bit her tongue, she had learned not to cry out, never let anyone see the bruises, be quiet Betty Cooper. Be perfect.

She couldn’t do it anymore, she was tired, so damn tired of being perfect. She wanted to go away, to sleep, sleep forever.

She reached into her nightstand and pulled out the tube of concealer, lifting the soft white sweater , fully prepared to cover up the bruises she knew would be visible in cheerleading practice tommorow, what she didn’t expect to see was the messy scrawl scribbled across her bruises

“You’re so much stronger than they are. You’re stronger than all of that white noise. You’re going to be okay, don’t let go. JJ”

Tears pricked her eyes. Her soulmate. She had one. she had gone so long believing she would never have one, destined to be passed around with the other mate less teenagers. She gripped her arm to her chest and let her tears fall freely, he was there and he could feel her, feel her pain. She wasn’t alone anymore.

Grabbing the purple gel pen off of her desk, she began writing back.


Jughead stared tirelessly at his arm, he didn’t even know if she was getting his messages, this could all be pointless, suddenly though, his arms were filled with distinctly feminine cursive in sparkly ink.

“Thank you JJ, it’s nice to meet my soulmate . Im sorry it had to be under such horrible circumstances. I’m Betty Cooper”

Betty Cooper? He knew that name, had heard Archie mention it a few times, but from where? He didn’t have time to think about that, ripping up his sleeve even higher he began writing again.

“It’s good to meet you in any way, although I do wish it wasn’t like this as well. Are you okay?”

He smiled when the reply was almost instant

“I’m okay, much better now that I know you’re here.”

They spent all night writing back and forth, Jugheads heart felt lighter that morning at school, and it was a fairly noticeable difference.
Archie of course made a huge deal out of it and Jughead found himself rolling his eyes at lunch when the football player went on about how awesome double dates would be from now on.

“Speaking of going out, i promised Ronnie, I’d meet her at central point park for that concert tonight, shes bringing her friend who’s going through a shitty breakup, i figured you could come along be like a fourth wheel. I promise you can write to your soulmate alllll night if you want.” Archie teased.

Jughead rolled his eyes, reluctantly agreeing.


Betty was sore that morning but she couldn’t keep the smile off of her face, her soulmate was amazing, he loved writing and reading and they shared similar tastes in movies and he made her laugh like no one else.

“So you’ll come?” Veronica asked, snapping Betty out of her thoughts and pulling her gaze away from the faded words on her arms

“Hmm? Yeah sure, of course.” She answered,dazed.

“Alright love bird, we’re gonna enjoy ourselves tonight at the concert. Maybe you can find some lyrics to write to lover boy” Veronica smiled lovingly at her best friend, excited to see the blonde looking genuinely happy for the first time in ages.

“Maybe” Betty grinned.

That night came by fast and Betty took one last look at the words she had just written JJ

“Gotta go Romeo, talk to you later?”

She smiled when the familiar handwriting appeared

“You got it Juliet.”

Betty and Veronica stepped from the car, Betty’s hand tucked in Veronica’s as they navigated the grassy area

“Ronnie! We don’t have to run, I’m sure we wont miss him, that bright red hair is kind of hard not to spot.” She giggled.

Veronica waved her eyebrows suggestively
“I happen to like redheads.”

Betty laughed
“I know, I was there when you started dating Chery Blossom last year.” Betty rolled her eyes

“I don’t discriminate. Love is love and all that” she grinned.

“Speaking of love.”

Both the girls whipped around at the familiar voice and Veronica instantly ran into her boyfriends arms


Archie laughed squeezing his girlfriend,

“Jughead this is Veronica’s best friend, Betty Cooper meet Jughead Jones.”

Jughead nearly dropped the novel he had gripped in his hands as he looked at the beautiful blonde with the bright green eyes and matching blue bruise on her chin, she was even more beautiful than he could have imagined, the very definition of a masterpiece.

“JJ” she whispered, her eyes scanning his and landing on his arms. She was smiling nervously, her fingers fidgeting as she slowly stood in place.

Jughead couldn’t keep the grin off of his face
“ hey there Juliet” he whispered, pulling his sleeves up as she gently rested her fingers on his inkstained arms.

She let out a breathy giggle and before he knew it she was falling into his arms, his own strong arms coming to wrap around her body, covering her and protecting her, now that he found her he was never letting her go.

She looked into his eyes and let the tears fall from hers

“I’ve been waiting for you Jughead Jones.”

He laughed, dropping a kiss to her lips
“You have no idea Betty Cooper”

Hungover || R.M.

Originally posted by riverdalexlover

Word Count: 643

Pairing: Reggie x reader

Summary: After a night of clubbing, you are left hungover in Veronica’s apartment. On your way home, you want some coffee, but you left your wallet at Veronica’s. Reggie steps in to pay for it and says a cheesy pickup line.

Warnings: mention of alcohol, underage drinking (?), like one cuss word, cheesy pickup line

Requested: nope me just being the reggie trash i am


// This is a reupload from my previous blog xdaddyreggie.//

It’d had been one hell of a night. Last night had been Josie’s birthday and she decided she wanted to go clubbing. Initially, you had said that you weren’t going to drink, but Veronica had convinced you to take a shot and soon that one shot had turned into around six maybe- you stopped counting after four.

You don’t drink all that often, so it was no doubt that the next day you would be completely hungover. And indeed, you were. You found yourself on the floor of Veronica’s room with a huge headache and quiet a sore stomach.  You got up to use the restroom, tiptoeing around Ronnie’s sleeping form.

When you reached the bathroom, you looked in the mirror and gasped at your appearance. Your makeup was smudged and your curled hair was all over the place. You rubbed some warm water on your face to clean up the makeup, and borrowed Ronnie’s hairbrush to fix up the bird’s nest on top of your head.

After using the restroom, you returned to Veronica’s bedroom and changed out of the little black dress you had worn to the club the night before. You got some leggings and an oversized sweatshirt out of Veronica’s closet and put it on; you were sure she wouldn’t care that you borrowed some clothes. You were shocked she even owned such clothes. Veronica wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but designer. The girl even went to bed with a pearl necklace on. Before leaving her apartment, you left a note on the dresser saying that you had a great night and would text her when you got home.

Walking down the street, you stopped at a small coffee shop hoping that a warm cup of coffee would solve your headache. The coffee shop was small and quiet with only two other people at a booth both on their laptops. You walked up to the counter and placed your order, which was simple just medium cup of coffee with almond milk and two scoops of sugar. While waiting for your cup, you heard a ring meaning someone had opened the door.

The barista set down your drink and stated that your total was 3.50. You reached down at where your pockets should be, seeing that you were wearing leggings and had no pockets, and patted groaning. You had left your wallet and your phone at Veronica’s in your clutch.

“I am so sorry, I seemed to have forgot my wallet at home. Can I come back in like ten minutes and pay after I’ve gone home?” You asked at the unconvinced barista.

“I’ll pay for her drink” You heard a deep voice from behind you and you turned around to see Reggie.

“Thank you so much,” You say stepping to the side as Reggie stepped forward to hand the man the money, “I’ll pay you back I promise.”

He shrugged at your response, “You don’t have too. It seems like you’ve had a rough morning.”

You blushed a little and looked down, “At least let me buy your coffee next time.” You looked backed up to see Reggie smirking.

“How about you pay me back with your phone number?” He said in a smug voice. You let out a nervous giggle, and looked back up at him.

“Sure, Mantle” You reached for the pen laying on the counter and scribbled your number onto his hand. You put the pen back and grabbed your coffee instead, Reggie’s eyes following your every move.

“I hope you’ll put that to good use.” You say nodding toward your phone number while slowly heading out of the coffee shop.

“You can bet on it.” Reggie said with a smirk, looking shocked that the pickup line had worked. He had a sly grin on his face as he turned around to order his coffee.

A/N- ahhh! this is my first post on this blog, leave me some feedback or requests in my inbox! Sorry this is really short, promise the upcoming posts will be longer!

100 Quote Prompts: Part 22- Authorship

“I really don’t want to hear about medical problems–”

“Just listen, okay?” Dr. Iplier looked up from his notes, unshaven, haggard in the candlelight.

Well, for now, it was Mr. Iplier. His exam was tomorrow, and here he was, cramming like a madman.

“I can’t believe I have to renew my license,” Mr. Iplier muttered to himself, turning back to the paper-covered desk.

A low chuckle. The shadows in the room seemed to shift, and the creaking of wood echoed through the cabin.

Mr. Iplier scowled at the page he was bent over as if it had done him a personal wrong. “Amused?” he addressed the darkness.

“Very. But,” the Author moved into the light, rolling his eyes, “distracted. I let you hole up here, Doc, so you could get some peace and quiet. Not–” his voice dropped dangerously, “–to keep me from writing.”

Mr. Iplier snorted, not even looking up. “C'mon, Author. Take a break–”

“I can’t!” He swung his bat with a light thump against the leg of the table, making the Doctor’s notes shudder.

With a sigh, Mr. Iplier stood and walked around the table. The Author stood in front of him, head down, bat limp in his hands.

“Why don’t you come sit with me, hm?” Mr. Iplier guided him gently to a chair, sweeping it clean of textbooks, and lowered the Author down into it. The Author took deep breaths, steadying himself, and Mr. Iplier turned back to his notes while he waited.

“Thanks, Doc.” The Author muttered, finally. He leaned slowly back in the chair, watching the Doctor turn pages covered in scribbled handwriting.

“You’re overworking yourself.”

The Author snorted. “You’re one to talk.” He watched Mr. Iplier’s shoulders tense and jerk, still bent over the table.

“I’m serious, Author.” Mr. Iplier turned to give him his full attention.

“I can’t stop working,” the Author rolled his eyes, defensive. “Writing is everything I’m known for. Everything I am.” He crossed his arms, bat held loosely across his legs.

“And medicine is everything I am.” Mr. Iplier smiled, gentle. “Look at me now, no title to my name.”

“That’s different.”

“Hmph.” Mr. Iplier raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

The Author looked up at him, pained. “My characters quit on me, Doc. They’re picked off, one by one, and locked up.” He gripped at his hair, mussing it. “That doesn’t happen in your line of work, losing people.”

“Not in the sense you mean,” Mr. Iplier said, biting.

The Author looked up, the full import of his words finally hitting him. “I’m–”

“Forget it, Author.” He turned away, face hidden in shadow.

“Sorry,” the Author muttered again, fingers tracing the curves of his bat.

“Whatever you write, happens, right?” Mr. Iplier spoke without looking around, and the candle in front of him flickered.

“Well, yeah.”

“And you use this power for…?”

“Stories.” The Author’s mind was working again, pulling at the interwoven strings of a half-finished plot.

“Never for good?”

“Never for evil, either,” the Author shot back, ripped from a reverie. “I make interesting things happen, and sell novels. I’m a simple man, Doc.”

Mr. Iplier snorted in disbelief. “You kidnap and torture your characters, simple man.”

“Only when they don’t cooperate.” His tone was easy, languid, and Mr. Iplier flinched a little at the simple power of his voice, at the sound of the bat rolling against the floor.

“Is it even a power if you only use it for storytelling?” Mr. Iplier was suddenly bitter, hands curled into fists, the notes in front of him a blur of anger.

“We’re not superheroes. Just Egos, figments.” Cynical.

“At least I try to help people.”

“You help one in a million,” the Author drawled. “How much difference do you really make?”

Mr. Iplier jumped to his feet, bumping against the table. The light shuddered, candle splashing, and went out.

The cabin was silent, lit only by the moon outside. The Author watched the Doctor’s shaking figure in anticipation.

He laughed, more sob than humor. “Yeah. No difference. I don’t matter at all. I may as well not take this exam.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Shut up.”

The Author rose to take Mr. Iplier’s hand, curled into a fist. He unfolded it, holding it loosely in two of his. “Doc–”

“Don’t even bother calling me that.”

“Doc,” he said again, gentle. “Why don’t you tell me about some medical stuff, huh? For– For a story.”

For a long moment, the Author was sure that the Doctor was about to stab him with the pen he still clenched in his hand.

Mr. Iplier sighed, sitting back down, letting his hand slip from the Author’s. The Author reached over to relight the candle, casting firelight over the Doctor’s face.

“So, your last story had, er, Daniel hit over the head with a log. But here, if you look at the composition of the skull…”

The Host walked through the warehouse, humming softly. His voice echoed around the room– it had been years since he’d lost his eyes, and with practice, he’d learned to listen to the way his voice bounced back at him.

Echolocation, the good Doctor had called it.

Well, the good Doctor was gone. In his wake was blood, stained bandages, and Dark’s laughter.

Dark laughed too much for his liking, and the Host wanted to return the favor.

His bat scraped along the concrete floor behind him, the metallic sound echoing off the sharp corners of boxes. Everything in this warehouse was straight lines, even the Host’s back.

Everything except a hunched figure, curled behind crates, breathing too fast and too loud to be safe.

The Host broke into a low chuckle, swinging his bat onto his shoulder. The scraping stopped, and the only sound was the echo of his own shoes. He was close, now.

“The Host knows where you are.” He’d stopped walking, stood in the center of the room. A grin on his face, blood tears dripping from behind the sloppy bandage.

“Stop this, Author.” Dark’s voice came from somewhere behind him, sounding strained. “The rest are gone. You and I can–”

“Can what?!” The Host’s voice overpowered the warehouse, rattling the roof and walls. “We can what? Take over the channel? To whose benefit?” He was bitter, voice hard.

“We– I–” Dark was stuttering, scared for once in his life. The Host twitched his head to the side. With every syllable, he was even more sure where Dark was. Soon.

“Cooperate with me, Darkiplier,” he said, smooth. He took a few silent steps in Dark’s direction.

“Author,” Dark was trying to be commanding, “you’re making a mistake.”

“It was you who made the mistake,” the Host said, pausing. He laid a hand on the box in front of him, calculating. Too many late nights with the Doctor had left him remembering, rather than imagining, the crunch of breaking ribs and calculated weakness in the spine.

“You killed them all,” Dark spat, standing. “All I did was set the bait, you and your precious Doct–”

The Host swung his bat for the weak spot in the skull. Dark bolted, feet pounding against the ground– powers useless.

The Host grinned ear-to-ear, feeling blood drip into his smile. “The Host doesn’t like it when his characters don’t cooperate.”

He set off in pursuit, humming lightly, bloodstained bat in tow– the scraping metal and haunting melody following Dark down a dead-end hallway.

Dating is Weird

Hi! I have another one-shot about a spoiler from episode 10. I seriously doubt I gave anything away, but this was really fun to right and I hope you all enjoy it! :) You can also check out my other one-shots on my fanfiction page, and it would be so cool of you if you did <3 

Jughead couldn’t stop staring. The sight before him pushing him forward while simultaneously backing him in a corner, absolutely scared to death.

Betty Cooper was laying on her bed, completely in her own universe, as she scribbled words in her diary. The pen switching from the pages to her mouth as she formulated her thoughts, none the wiser to his current predicament.

It really shouldn’t be that difficult to ask her out. They had established long ago that they were “together”, maybe not going as far as calling each other boyfriend/girlfriend, but Jughead felt what they had was beyond titles. It’s not like she didn’t want to hang out with him exclusively. They were doing that right now for christ’s sake! It shouldn’t be this hard to simply ask her to the movies with him.

They had done that so many times together, even before this new type of relationship bloomed. He just had to ask her to the movies. Nothing crazy or out there. And it’s not like she would say no…and if she did it was just to postpone it because of some other prior engagement. But he knew her schedule, (not that he was some kind of creepy stalker!) so he knew she was free this Friday night. She might not be if he doesn’t sack up and ask her though.

He continued gazing at the beautiful creature before him. It’s just Betty…he would say to himself. Repeating the silent mantra to himself in hopes of gaining the nerve to ask her.

He sighed deeply, still confused and frustrated as to why this was so difficult for him. Sure he’d never asked someone out on a date before, but this was Betty and he already knew that she liked him (for whatever reason) very much.

The sound seemed to catch the attention of the far-away blonde. She looked at him with worried eyes, knowing that the sigh meant something was weighing heavily on his mind.

“Hey Juggie, is everything ok?” she asked delicately, concern evident in her eyes.

“Huh? Wh-what do you mean? There’s a killer on the loose still and we haven’t figured it out yet.” He stammered as he looked away. He could never lie to her, even if he had something prepared, and she caught him completely off guard.

“You sure? You seem a bit…out of it…” she began slowly, cautiously, ever aware that the slightest inclination of being cornered shuts him down. “You know you can talk to me about whatever’s bothering you, right?”

He sighed again as he rubbed his hands over his face. Now he was making her worried over something so silly.

“Yea Betts, I know.” he said offering the best smile he could muster. “I’ve uh…just been thinking about something is all.”

He continued to avoid her eyes and rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin. The act didn’t fool Betty. She knew something was bothering him, and she suspected it had something to do with her since he was being so obtuse. She decided that if she wanted answers, she couldn’t be delicate any longer.

“Weeell, even if it’s something to do with me. I promise I won’t judge you and listen to you completely, even if it may upset me…”

“No!” he almost shouted panicked at the suggestion as his arms shot out as if to physically stop the idea from forming. “No,” he repeated again, much more calmly, “it’s nothing like that. I mean it does have to do with you, with us” he corrected.

“Us?” she questioned. Now she was really confused.

“Yeah…us…” he started again, not sure where to take this. For someone so great with words on paper, he absolute garbage in person.

“Um…well you know with…what we are now…” he gestured towards each other, “with…what we’ve done…”

“You mean being a couple?” she interrupted the trainwreck that was Jughead expressing his feelings.

“Yes! Right…with us being that, I was thinking that maybe we should do other things that…people like that do…”

I sound like an idiot… he thought bitterly.

Betty managed to stifle her giggle at watching him struggle to get his thoughts out. She decided to mess with him just a little bit.

“Juggie, I really do like you, but I don’t know if I’m ready for sex yet.” She said it so seriously that even she was impressed with her performance. She should have won an Oscar for that one.

Jughead’s mind went completely blank. Any thoughts, ideas, words were gone. All he wanted to do was take her out to a movie and she’s thinking about…other couple things. He thinks he may have had a stroke, or maybe she did? That would be the only logical explanation for jumping that far ahead of the gun. Not that the thought never crossed his mind, but holy hell. He didn’t actually plan on acting on his urges any time soon.

He continued to stare blankly at her until she couldn’t hold it in anymore and just started laughing. The sound of laughter seemingly releasing him from his daze, he looked back at the blonde smiling at her mirth. She was in hysterics, holding her gut as if they would actually fall out if she wasn’t holding them in. Her genuine laughter music to his ears and bringing them both back into their comfortable bubble.

“I’m sorry Juggie, it was just too good to pass up” she said with a bright smile as her laughter curbed. Wiping away the happy tears and she asked again, “So what’s really on your mind?”

He chuckled at her shenanigans. Amazed, once again, at how she always found a way to make him feel at ease.

“That” he began as he raised his eyebrow at her, “was definitely not what I was concerning myself over. I actually was thinking something a bit more PG, maybe PG-13 the most.”

She raised her own eyebrow at the statement. “Depending on what exactly?”

“Well…like…” he gulped as he forced himself to continue, “what kind of movie you’d like to see. With me. Alone. Together.” He continued to add, trying in vain to not seem so nervous.

“You mean like a date?” She asked as her eyes sparkled.

“Yea…I mean that’s what people like us do, right?” The question sounding more like he was asking himself rather than her.

“Yes! Definitely! People like us would definitely go on dates!”

She was beaming at the thought of a date with Jughead, her knees finding their way to edge of her bed as she just stared at him with a goofy grin. They hung out together all the time, but it was always having something to do with school, their own family drama, or trying to solve the murder. The thought of the two of them alone together in a dark movie theater was so…inviting. So…normal, that she couldn’t think of a better way to spend her Friday night.

“Great…that’s good. Um…so it’s a…date?” He questioned, the procedures of courting still eluding him.

She giggled at his apprehension to using the word ‘date’.

“Yea Jug, I’d love to go on a date with you”

She said it so earnestly that Jughead’s shoulders immediately relaxed as he slumped into his chair. She walked over to him and took a seat on her desk as she played with his curl that never seemed to want to stay in his trademark beanie.

“Is that what had you all worked up this afternoon?”

He breathed out a chuckle, “Yea. Stupid right?”

“Well, maybe a little” she said with a wink, “since you already knew what the answer would be.”

“I think that’s what bothered me the most. That I knew what you would say and still being unable to ask.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Dating is weird” with another eye roll.

“Yea, only when it comes to dating you though.”

Before he could even respond, she pecked him on the lips and ran out of her room cackling like a mad-woman. He shook his head with a laugh. It was nice seeing her be so carefree again. With his wits about him, he made his way over to his lovely partner with a mischievous smile on his face to show her just how weird he could be.


Pens and paintbrushes

It was late and he knew he should be home, he knew he had work at the publishing office early tommorow morning, but Jughead Jones was not one to do what was expected of him, especially not when he had the worst case of writers block he had ever come across.

He was staring blankly at the open poppy field in front of him, New York City was definitely nothing like Riverdale, the pushing and the yelling and the overpopulated streets, so when he came across this hidden gem he had been eternally grateful for the tiny bit of peace and serenity it provided.

Archie snored loudly from the back of the beat up pick up truck Jughead was currently perched on top of, He smiled at his obnoxious best friend and went back to scribbling in his notebook. Jughead needed inspiration, he was at a standstill with his novel and Archie was happy to tag along, happy to be away from the studio for a bit, even if he couldn’t keep his eyes open for longer than an hour. Archie was an up and coming musician and he worked tirelessly to get his music heard, something Jughead had always admired about his best friend.

His eyes were fairly close to glazing over themselves as he watched the orange and purple sunset dip lower behind the hills.

“Betty! Please, these are givenchi! I’m going to get Pollen all over my new cape!”

Jughead eyes snapped open at the sound of a very agitated female voice, squinting into the distance he saw what had the dark haired girl so up in arms.

Honey blonde hair and long tans legs peeking out of a long flower white maxi skirt, slit up the side and blowing behind her as she pulled what he assumed was her friend through the flowers

“I’m gonna miss it Ronnie, I just found the perfect color for the sky and I’m gonna miss it if we don’t hustle! Move that Pilates sculpted booty!” She giggled, her hands gripping a variety of colored pencils and a thick white sketchbook.

Jughead couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blonde, her midriff was bare and toned underneath the loser white crop top as she made her way towards him, her eyes were looking directly past him at the sunset in the distance and he could make out bright hazel green irises. Apparently all the commotion woke sleeping beauty from his slumber and Archie crawled towards the roof of the car, setting his eyes on the approaching girls.

“Hey, you didn’t tell me there’d be chicks, look at the dark haired one.” Archie rubbed his eyes sleepily, leaning forward to get a better look.

Suddenly the two girls were directly in front of the dark green pick up truck and The blonde was climbing on top of it.

“Elizabeth!” The raven haired girl shouted, her eyes wide and appalled.

She continued to climb
“I’m so sorry, but I really need this view, I’m so sorry!”

She pushed past Archie and dropped beside Jughead, ripping the sketchbook open and immediately sketching the sight before her.

“I am so sorry about her. She’s an artist, I’m sure you know how temperamental they are. It’s the heat I think, it’s gotten to her, made her forget her manners.” Her friend stated pointedly, her hands on her hips as she shook her head.

Jughead was speechless, this absolute enigma of a girl was seated beside him, her thigh pressed against his as she effortlessly drew the most beautiful piece of work he had ever seen, he watched her draw strokes on the paper, the colors perfectly matching the scenery in front of them. He vaguely heard Archie helping the dark haired girl into the bed of the truck, when the beauty in question glanced up , placing her pencil down and sighing relived, apologetic eyes meeting his captured ones.

“I really am so sorry, it’s just the sunset moves so quickly ya know, I haven’t been able to capture it all week. And this is perfect.”

Jughead shook his head
“I get it, don’t worry about it. You can climb my truck anytime.” He smiled at the light blush that rose to her cheeks. She stuck her hand out

“I’m Betty Cooper, it’s nice to meet you.”

Betty Cooper?! His jaw visibly dropped as he stared blatantly. Betty Cooper was one of the most well known young artists in all of NewYork, her work was hung in the some of the best galleries in the cities. People begged for her work, she chose to remain anonymous in the sense of face to face. The only thing people knew of Betty Cooper was her and name and her talent.

From behind him he heard a giggle
“That’s not usually the reaction she gets.”

He looked over and The pearl wearing girl was perched on Archie’s lap

“I’m Veronica Lodge. And yes I am the world famous fashion designer, no need to drop your draw twice James Dean.”

Jughead raised a brow, he had never heard of her but from the looks of her he could tell she wasn’t lying.

“She’s very proud of her work.” Betty giggled from beside him, he could tell that the quiet blonde didn’t share the same outgoing personality as her friend, but from the soft way she smiled at Veronica it was clear they were very close.

“I’m Jughead Jones. Definitely not as accomplished as you but Jughead Jones nonetheless.” He gripped her hand, holding it for a second longer than necessary. His stomach flip flopping at the unfamiliar feeling, something in her eyes shifted and he knew she was feeling the same thing.

“He will be famous though, he’s writing a book and it’s really good, his publisher is just waiting for it to be finished.” Archie said from below, his arm slung lazily around Veronica’s waist as he whispered in her ear.

“You write!” Betty smiled, her hand moving to grip his arm as she looked at him excitedly.

Jughead blushed rose petal pink, and nodded shyly

“Something like that.”

“Id love to read your work some time.” She was so soft and gentle, Jughead wasn’t accustomed to this type of woman, growing up on the Southside of Riverdale, girls were bitter and angry, moving to New York he hadn’t been interested in finding anyone, but with her soft hand around his forearm and her long blonde hair brushing his cheek.. well maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He shook his head quickly, like she would be interested in somelike you, her a grip Jughead, His mothers nasal sharp voice echoed in his head.

“Well lover boys, we better get going. I have a meeting in Paris tommorow morning and then I’m back here by lunch.” Veronica shrugged, daintily stepping off the bed of the truck as Archie helped her down.

Betty rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Jughead as he laughed quietly, his hands wrapped around her waist and he carefully dropped her in front of him, her feet on solid ground, she stared up at him.

“Id like to see you again Jughead Jones.” She whispered.

Jughead swallowed heavily, his eyes boring into hers

“Id like that Betty Cooper”

She pulled her sketch pad out and scribbled her number down on torn piece of paper. Handing it to him she threw him a final glance and followed Veronica towards the trail.

Jughead watched her retreating back his fingers clutching the number in his hand, Archie came to stand beside him, holding his palm open

“Dude! You got her number too? Awesome! Veronica wrote hers in lipstick so I can’t really close my hand until I can find my phone…” Archie rambled on and Jughead smiled staring down at the piece of paper.

Jughead Jones life was about to become a whole lot different.

Wedding Plans

i.e. a Barisi ‘ficlet’ which is almost 5K because I wrote it with a fever and I especially don’t know when to stop when I have a fever. btw I have a fever right now

2 anons and @deepbutdazzlingdarkness requested this prompt. It’s a trope I love, so I figured I’d write it. I tried to make it fluffy. I almost succeeded. Consider this fluff with a twist.

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#47 - “My ex just invited me to their wedding and I need you to be my date so it doesn’t look like I’ve spent the last few years failing to get over them.”

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“Do you have any plans for the weekend, Carisi?”

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mins80 prompted: both are babysitting & meet in a park/playgroup

Klaine alternate meeting AU

It figures that Cooper’s last minute, just want to see you baby brother let’s catch up visit to New York would actually lead to him being stuck with Cooper’s demon-spawn while he gallivants around the city with his wife “networking.”

Blaine does actual air-quotes in his living room, all alone with Ace who okay, isn’t that awful, hemmed in by his playpen that is now devoid of toys, instead thrown in various places around Blaine’s apartment. Blaine has learned not to give them back unless he wants to to get creamed in the face by Sophie the Giraffe again.

“Alright kid, while your mom and dad are busy harassing directors and charming their way backstage, even though I have a very distinct memory of your dad telling me Broadway is dead, but whatever that’s not the point…” Blaine rolls his eyes and huffs and he’s getting off track and now Ace is standing up and rattling the playpen back and forth.

“Let’s go to the park,” he announces, reaching for his nephew who gives a high wailing screech in reply. Blaine’s ears ring. Well, he can certainly project his voice. Cooper must be thrilled.

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anonymous asked:

becommissar coffee shop au where becca is a barista/singer trying to get of her feet and she's scared of this beautiful woman who comes in every morning to get coffee and is really angry all the time and komissar who just wants her morning coffee and doesn't know how to deal with the adorable and tiny barista and just ends up acting angry

a/n: this is 3000 words of pure coffee shop au and it is beautiful. btw, pieter’s name is spelled ‘peter’ because beca doesn’t know how it’s actually spelled.

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