Either, "Who says no to sex and donuts?" or, "Relax. I'll wash your hair for you." pretty please?
Thanks for the prompts, love, I did both! Hope you like it!
“This is exactly why I don’t take the beanie off, Betty!”
Jughead pawed at his sticky head of hair, plucking out the chunks of cookie dough and tossing them into the trashcan sitting by Betty’s vanity. “It’s like the world knows when my hair is exposed to the unfathomable missteps of other people’s clumsiness and waits until the exact wrong moment to make my life miserable.”
“It’s just ice cream, Juggie,” Betty reminded him, biting her bottom lip as she attempted to suppress an amused smile. “It’ll come out.”
“That’s not the point, Bets, the point is that we’re never going anywhere ever again,” Jughead told her, leaning forward to check out the sticky situation in the mirror and grimacing at the sight of his matted mess of locks. “Especially not to the carnival where children with sticky hands can drop ice cream cones on your head like they were professionally trained to do so.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a tad dramatic,” Betty wondered, crossing one leg over the other as she watched the pathetic scene unfolding in front of her from her spot on the bed. “You were doing something nice for her and things went a little sideways. It’s not the end of the world.”
“You know, I bet she dropped that teddy bear on purpose,” Jughead muttered, whirling around to point a finger at Betty and nodding to himself as if answering his own question. “Yeah, she waited until the right chump who couldn’t resist helping a poor little girl in need came along, and WHAM! that’s when she decided to execute her fool proof plan.”
“She was like four,” Betty pointed out, her eyebrows drawing together at her boyfriend’s insane dramatics as she reached forward to pick up her phone resting at the foot of the bed.
“They’re training them to plot and deceive in preschool nowadays, I’m telling you,” Jughead insisted, twisting and pulling at the strands of hair with such urgency that Betty thought he was going to start ripping them of his head roots in all. “It’s a conspiracy.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Betty mumbled, rolling her eyes in mock-annoyance as she typed out a text message to Veronica and tried her best to ignore the incessant complaints pouring out of Jughead’s mouth.
“This is going to take ages to get out,” Jughead whined once more. “I’m going to be stuck in that shower until our high school graduation I’m calling it now.”
Enough was enough for Betty as she tossed her phone onto the bedspread and swung her legs off the mattress in one swift motion, marching her way over to Jughead and grabbing him by the wrist.
“Come here,” Betty commanded, pulling him up from the chair and tugging him forwards to lead him across the bedroom.
“Where are we going?” Jughead wanted to know, stumbling over a pile of textbooks as they made their way into the bathroom. “Ow, Betty, don’t pull so hard!”
“Jug, relax,” Betty soothed, reaching up to grab a fistful of dark hair in her hands and smiling amusedly in his direction. “I’ll wash your hair for you.”
“If it’ll get you to stop whining like a little baby, then yes,” Betty smirked, stepping around him to close the lid to the wicker laundry basket sitting next to the bathtub and pulling it over to the sink.
“Should I start the shower or-” Jughead raised a flirtatious eyebrow at the prospect of sharing such a steamy encounter with his girlfriend, but Betty quickly shut down that fantasy with a swift smack to the arm.
“Over the sink, perve,” Betty mumbled, filling the sink with warm water and gesturing towards the laundry basket with a flick of her hand. “Sit down.”
Jughead did as he was told, leaning his back against the porcelain material and tilting his head backwards to rest it as comfortably as he could on the brim of the sink.
“You know, this is kind of nice actually,” Jughead hummed, his eyes closing contentedly and his lips curling into a satisfied grin as Betty massaged her fingers through his dark mop of hair.
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Betty warned, squirting a glob of shampoo onto her palm and rubbing her hands together before running them through his locks.
“Too late,” Jughead mumbled, his head bobbing backwards as he let himself enjoy the pampering that he knew he didn’t deserve and silently hoped that this wouldn’t be a one time occurrence. “You know, to thank you for saving my hair from becoming a hardened shell of sugary stickiness, why don’t I buy us a dozen of those donuts you like so much from that bakery down the street.”
“Mmm,” Betty murmured, flicking on the faucet and guiding Jughead’s head backwards so that it reached the streaming water and rinsed out the clumps of soapy shampoo sticking to his wet hair.
As Betty took a step away from the sink to grab a towel hanging on the rack next to the tub, Jughead caught her by the arm, his fingers lightly wrapping around her thin wrist as he pulled her gently down to his level to whisper in her ear. “And when we’re done we can hop in that shower and you can wash my hair all over again,” Jughead breathed, his lips grazing the tip of her earlobe as he reached up to run a steady hand through her own golden tresses. “Or we can do other things. Things that don’t involve washing at all.”
Just as Jughead leaned into the embrace to cover her lips with kisses, Betty pulled away from his grip and began drying his hair frantically with the towel.
“Nice try,” Betty told him smugly, pointing to the clock on the wall with her free hand and continuing to run the towel through his sopping hair with the other. “But we have to meet Archie and Veronica at the bowling alley in an hour remember?”
“Are you kidding?” Jughead sat up quickly, the towel falling to the floor into a damp heap as he scrambled to spring off of the laundry basket. “Who says no to sex and donuts?”
“A girl who just watched her boyfriend whine for fifteen minutes straight about an ice cream cone falling in his hair,” Betty reminded him, one hand resting firmly on her hip as she raised an eyebrow at him as if to dare him to challenge her on this accusation.
“Yeah, not my finest moment,” Jughead admitted. “Fair enough. I’ll charm you with my impressive bowling skills instead - I’m talking PBA Grand Slam level of talent coming your way, Bets.”
“Oh, I’m turned on already,” Betty smirked, pushing his arm back playfully as she leaned forward to dig through the cabinet underneath the sink. “Now should I blow dry your hair or are you just going to stick your beanie over it and call it a day?”
“Have you met me?” Jughead gasped, his hand moving up to rest over his heart as he widened his eyes at Betty dramatically.
“You’re right,” Betty nodded, pulling out the much-too-pink blow dyer and holding it out in his direction. “So blow dryer?”
I have been quite bitter regarding Itori’s lack of presence in Re to be honest. But taking a look at Itori’s tarot card, Eight of Wands/Clubs, I am content that she will return.
“The Eight of Wands indicates that the struggles of the Seven of Wands have now all but cleared and you have the freedom and space to move forward with your plans and activities once again. The Eight of Wands contains a high level of energy and movement that propels you forward to reach your goals at a much faster pace than ever before.”
The “Seven of Wands” is Kanou respectively, meaning that Kanou’s days, and this ghoulification project he works on, are be numbered at this point. Considering that Kanou and Furuta are currently still working on their own project and exercise a lot of influence and power due to Furuta’s position, I suspect Itori and her Clown gang will strike when Kanou (and to Furuta to some extent) do not serve as an obstacle anymore.
In my opinion, this will happen when the CCG is falling for good, mankind’s last bastion, that is, and are thus at the mercy of ghouls (obviously, how this is gonna play out is a different matter. But I do not think that the Clowns will responsible for it). If this also implicates their death (which I very much suspect), is anyone’s guess at this point. I am not sure if the “Moon Arc” might have ended even this chapter, but whatever the case may be, when the Moon falls, the Sun rises, which will happen soon enough. And as far as I remember, Uta is strongly associated with the Sun, so I think we are finally getting a “Clown’s arc.”
“With the Eight of Wands, you can look forward to the rapid completion of a project that is currently underway but you can also expect to be occupied by something new and even more exciting and inspiring very soon.”
I have probably a very poor understanding of the Clowns in general and their purpose, if they have any, was discussed dozens of times in this fandom here. Some argued that they are a chaotic neutral, but referencing Itori’s card, I think they do have very much a purpose and therefore a goal, for what is questionable, though.
However, a starting point would be Helter Skelter. I would strongly urge you to read thistheory, because I would feel like a snitch in revealing it contents. I might not totally agree with it (considering how some things have played out this manga I don’t think it might play out in its entirety, but still), but the this tumblr user presented a detailed and intriguing insight that should be at least read (because it’s really well-written and has tons of interesting points presented here).
“This card is a sign to ‘strike while the iron is hot’.”
Oh boy, and how.
“When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, when the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When my womb quickens again- wait a moment, wrong franchise. Anyway, I know that this is a more than shabby summary of all the references and plot points we got here and I definitely left some points here and there, but I assure you, as the sublime alpaca that I am, that Itori will return and that it will be glorious. Oh yeah, along with the Clowns, of course.
(woooh, fic drop. Ily, dear. teehee.) Their first fight ends like this: "You're not a prize, Sasuke-kun," and before she can stop herself, the words rush out of her mouth in flurry of righteous indignation, "but you certainly act like you are one." She pauses, then, aghast at having said the meanest possible thing she could say to him, guilty at the look of hurt creeping up his usually-stoic face, and also... strangely unwilling to take back what she said, for she meant every word.
(*sniffs* i love you too, grah! >___<)
It’s apparent that she’s been exhausted: blood and soap still clung to her, with hands too chaffed and raw from the scrubbing it took for the grueling work hours during her surgeries. Her usually well-kept hair is in disarray, and there are strained marks on her brow.
However, in the state she’s in, she looks completely drained and defeated.
She slides to the floor, sitting to become a curled heap in a corner.
And then, she weeps.
Each time she lets out a cry, it’s punctuated with a heaving gulp of air, or a dragging messy exhale. Her palms cradled her head, pink veils cascading over her face. Her elbows are digging on her legs, burying her face in between her knees. He knows that anytime she might scream, or suddenly punch her fist against the wall, till their little home crumbles, and turns into rubble.
Instead of reaching out, he asks.
“Is that it, Sakura?”
His wife flinches at the quiet reply.
He never meant his soft question to fall on their conversation like hard lashes, not when he wanted to hear more behind this retaliation. Sasuke had expected this moment for a long time, waiting for the wrong moment for her to say the right, debilitating words.
I need a spockuhura fanfiction ‘5 times spock proposed and uhura said no and the one time she said yes’. Like a proposal for each of their five years mission xD and she keeps saying no not because she doesn’t want to marry him but because she doesn’t feel it’s the right moment and then when the least he expects it and he had almost lost all hope (but not really), she says yes.
Bard was right about the walk clearing Vanya’s mind and the shoulder rub relaxed her so she slept well.
The next day about midday a servant knocked on her door, “The King wishes to speak with you immediately in his chamber.”
Vanya nodded and thought to herself ‘oh Iluvatar, what could he possibly want now?’ She made her way up countless steps and along wooden paths until she reached his chamber. She found Bard standing solemnly with an unreadable Thranduil. The bowman refused to look at her. “What’s going on?”