#riverdalepromptathonweek6

[bettycooper]

@riverdalepromptathon: violet / song lyrics

[lourdes-archieve]

Riverdale promptathon: Week six  ➢ all your compliments and your cutting remarks / are captured here in my quotation marks, Violet @riverdalepromptathon 

insp in source

[imreallyloveleee]

promptathon week 6

“Jug. Over here.”

He swings his flashlight in the direction of her voice, his heart skipping a beat as it illuminates her profile. Bathed in light, she looks like the cover of an old Nancy Drew novel: the beautiful blonde in a silvery lilac dress, neck arched towards some mysterious clue on the ground, one heel raised delicately in the air behind her.

Betty lifts her chin and meets his eyes as he draws closer. “Are these footprints?”

He tears his gaze away from her face and squints at the forest floor where she’s pointing. He can make out something in the dirt.

“Could be.” Jughead trains his light up into the branches of the old oak tree that stands before them. No movement, and the leaves have already started to fall, so there’s not much up there for a human being to hide behind. “Even if they are, it could’ve just been some kids climbing trees.”

Betty sighs, rubbing her hands over her bare arms. They’ve been out here for nearly an hour already, and found nothing that appears even remotely related to what they’re looking for. Archie must not have offered her his jacket when she told him she was leaving the dance, Jughead thinks darkly. Of course it wouldn’t occur to him.

Wordlessly, Jughead shrugs his own jacket off of his shoulders and holds it out to Betty. He can tell from the way she pauses that she wants to refuse, but then another shiver rolls through her body, and she accepts it, ducking her head as she slips her arms through the sleeves.

Now she looks like a character out of a 90s music video – a pretty girl in a pretty dress, swimming in the lead singer’s oversized jacket.

“Where did you tell Archie you were going?” He can’t help but be curious.

“Here.” Betty shrugs at his look. “What? Was I supposed to keep it a secret?”

“I guess not.” Jughead kicks at a stray rock. “You probably need to get back soon.”

Betty scoffs. “I’m not going back.”

“No? Don’t you want to be there for the…last dance, or whatever?”

Betty looks at him like he’s crazy. “Have you ever been to a dance, Jughead? Half the school’s gone by ten o’clock to go get drunk or make out in a closet.”

So that’s what she would have been doing with Archie tonight, if he hadn’t succumbed in a moment of weakness and called her. He hadn’t really expected her to pick up. All the same, he knew he should have texted at most, and not interrupted her big date with the boy next door.

“Well, I’m sorry I ruined your night.”

“More like saved it.” Betty snorts. “Archie couldn’t stop drooling every time he got a glimpse of Val, and Kevin disappeared under the bleachers with that Joaquin guy five minutes in –”

Jughead misses whatever she says next, stuck on the first thing. “Wait – he was flirting with Val in front of you?”

Betty pauses. “Yeah? He’s been crushing on her for weeks.”

“But I thought – you and Archie.” When Betty says nothing, he adds, “I thought it was finally happening.”

Her eyes widen. “You – oh. Oh.” If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she seems flustered. “Jug, no. Me and Archie – it’s not like that anymore. We went to the dance as friends.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to say. “Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Did…something happen?”

Betty tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “There wasn’t, like, a single moment so much as I just kind of realized…well, you and me have been spending so much time together lately, investigating, and…Archie will always be one of my best friends, but…I’m just not into him anymore.”

Jughead feels as though he has just been asked to solve a very long and complex math equation, the key to which he’s missed completely. His brain presses forward, forcing its way through the sludge of confusion. “Because…you’re hanging out with me.”

“Juggie.” Betty sighs fondly, and waves an arm to the trees around them. “I left the homecoming dance to come wander around in the middle of the woods with you. Are you really so surprised?”

When she puts it like that, well. It does seem obvious.

“Give me a minute, Betts.” He rubs the side of his nose, feeling his own wide, involuntary smile against the back of his hand. “This is…this is world-altering information you’ve just dropped on me. I need a moment to process.”

“Sure. But don’t take too long.” She smiles, too, tucking her hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I’ve still got to be home by curfew.”

(written for week 6 of @riverdalepromptathon! prompts used are violet, fox forest, & dancing. in case it’s not clear: this is a s1 au where veronica never showed up in town.)

[raymondebidochonlifechoices]

once again a late submission, this time for @riverdalepromptathon​: week six

>> Fox Forest + violet

The Witching Hour

Jughead is aware that he’s dreaming. He’s in Fox Forest, at the spot where he and Betty had set up camp earlier that day. He remembers starting a fire and making dinner just as the sun had set. It is well past midnight now, the fire dying out, leaving most of his surroundings shrouded in velvety darkness. The sounds of the nocturnal fauna mix with the whooshing of Sweetwater River rushing nearby and the soft crackling of the firewood. The imbalance between sight and sound is disorienting. At night the woods feel otherworldly.

He feels her presence before he sees her. He has always thought that Betty was beautiful but here, in the eerie forest dreamland, she looks like a fairy queen, with her long blonde hair and green eyes. Betty extends her hand in offering and Jughead thinks of roots of relish sweet and honey wild. “Eat me” breathes Dream-Betty. Jughead looks down at his own hand and finds the proffered gift already in his grasp. As he brings his palm closer to his eyes, he sees that it’s a muffin on which the words “EAT ME” are beautifully marked in blueberries. Will this make him larger or smaller, he wonders, before taking a large bite of his Belle Dame’s confection anyway.

.

.

In his sleeping bag in a clearing in Fox Forest Jughead tosses and moans but doesn’t wake up.

.

.

*****************************************

“Do you think he’s having a sex dream?” Cheryl narrows her eyes at Jughead’s prone form before going back to inspecting her long red nails under the glow of the campfire. Veronica lets out an amused snort. Betty just rolls her eyes.

They image they make, the three of them, around the firepit is incongruous.  Only Betty is in camping-appropriate attire, with her leggings and zip-up hoodie, her hair neatly secured in a ponytail. Both Cheryl and Veronica are dressed in long silk dressing gowns, made for lounging on plush divans while nibbling on canapés, which, Betty supposes, was what they were doing when she called Cheryl for their emergency gathering in the woods. Veronica apparently gets the munchies around 2 a.m.

They cast long shadows over the fire, upon which stands a cast iron tripod with what can only be described as a cauldron. This is, of course, Cheryl’s contribution to the night’s activities. In Betty’s opinion, a Dutch oven would have been more practical – or better yet, she should have substituted the first ingredient of her concoction for something that didn’t require melting . At least all she needs for the second (and final) phase transition is the heat from the tinder.

Betty is focusing on her knife as it sinks into soft flesh trying to keep the delicate skin around it intact. Her fingers are sticky with the squelchy innards that she deposits in a big violet plastic bowl. The smell is cloying and Betty’s glad for the breeze that carries the scent away from Jughead’s sleeping form.

Once she’s done with this, it’s time to bring everything together. She pours the golden liquid from the cauldron into another plastic mixing bowl and contemplates the carefully measured-out ingredients already laid before her in pots and cups. As she reaches for the jug on her left, Cheryl’s hand shoots out and grabs it. She dramatically holds the jug over the bowl and slowly pours as she chants “Fillet of a fenny snake, in the cauldron boil and bake.” Betty is making shushing noises, as Veronica giggles and excitedly grabs the next pot. “Eye of newt and toe of frog,” she intones, “wool of bat and tongue of dog!”

They both turn expectantly towards Betty, who is clearly not amused.

“You realize that Shakespeare is not The Young Witch’s Book of Spells, right?”

Cheryl and Veronica just stare at her. Betty stares back, but the only thing that accomplishes is to make Cheryl’s eyebrow climb higher and Veronica’s smile become toothier.

“Fine!” Betty grumbles. “Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting, lizard’s leg and owlet’s wing. Satisfied?”

Veronica and Cheryl clasp their hands cackling manically “For a charm of powerful trouble, like a hell-broth BOIL! AND! BUBBLE!!!”

“Shhhhhh!” Betty desperately whisper-shouts looking over her shoulder at Jughead, whose sleep remains, impossibly -but thankfully- unperturbed by their shenanigans.

“That’s not funny, Veronica!” Betty scolds. “You two screeching like … like … like witches! You’ll wake Jughead up and then what?”

“Well, B, it is the witching hour after all” Veronica says. “Besides, you seem to have worn Jughead out! I don’t think he’ll be up any time soon.” She sounds delighted. With a satisfied nod Veronica bends over the violet bowl and sniffs. “Hmm …”  is all she says before picking up the bowl and a fork. Cheryl is looking over with mild distaste.

Betty tosses a handful of berries (Vaccinium corymbosum to be precise) in her own bowl and begins stirring: not too much and not too little, unless she wants her effort to end in disaster. Tonight, is her only chance. Once Jughead is up in the morning, it will be too late and all this will be for naught.

“Remind me again”, says Cheryl, frowning down at the bowl in Betty’s hands, “why are we making blueberry muffins in oranges in a campfire in the middle of the night, instead of buying them from a bakery like normal people?”

“I am making muffins”, Betty huffs, vigorously stirring the batter, “because, as you just pointed out, it’s the middle of the night, so there are no bakeries open?” Betty holds the peel of half an orange in one hand contemplating how to tip the mix in without making a mess.

“We are making muffins,” Veronica interjects around a mouthful of scooped-out orange flesh from the violet bowl, picking up a plain platinum band from Betty’s side, “because dear Bettykins found a diamond ring while snooping in Jughead’s bag-”

“I was not snooping!” Betty protests. “I told you, a mosquito woke me up and I was searching for the bug spray and thought it was my bag-“

“A likely story”, dismisses Cheryl with a wave of her hand.

“As I was saying”, Veronica clears her throat, “It’s because Bettykins” -Veronica wiggles her eyebrows at her direction- “just found out that Jughead brought her in the middle of a creepy forest to creepily propose – no, don’t protest, Betty, I know you’re loving this, but it’s still creepy.”

“Is romantic, is what it is” Betty mumbles miffed, filling more oranges with blueberry muffin batter –

“So Betty”, Veronica turns to Cheryl, “wants to beat him to the punch.”

“And I, of course,” Veronica exclaims magnanimously handing the band over to Betty, so that she can press it inside one of the muffins, “will help my bestie in her hour of need!” She leans over to smack a kiss on Betty’s cheek and then lies flat on the ground, the empty bowl of oranges precariously balanced on her very pregnant belly. “Gosh! I’m completely stuffed!” Veronica kicks out her feather slippers and wiggles her toes. “Those were some good oranges!” she sighs contentedly. Cheryl removes the plastic bowl and rubs soothing circles over her wife’s stomach.

.

.

.

*****************************************

2 years earlier

Betty feels the adrenaline still coursing through her veins as sheriff Keller and his men haul Glen in the back of a police car. She and Jughead had finally tracked down the Trash Bag Killer after four months of investigation. It took them another week to uncover the evidence of Glen’s involvement in the murders and two hours of a mad manhunt through Fox Forest to finally capture him.

As the flashing lights of the police cars disappear around the curve of the dirt road, all Betty can think of is dragging Jughead to the nearest tree and ravishing him. Or, better yet, tying him to said tree and not letting him go until he forgives her past transgressions and agrees to have her babies. She doesn’t have time to implement her ingenious plan, because she finds herself backed against a tree by Jughead, who proceeds to kiss every accessible part of her, explaining -whenever he resurfaces for air- his own plans for them.

She has her legs wrapped around his middle using the trunk for purchase as she grinds down on him, when she comes to her senses and stops him. Getting off in the middle of the forest is not the getting-back-together story she wants to tell her future offspring, she tells him. Jughead laughs and proceeds to unbutton her blouse. “I” -nip- “promise” -kiss- “to come back here” -another kiss- “for a romantic proposal” -Jughead looks straight into her eyes- “so that we can have a non-horny version to tell our kids.”

Jughead is very distracting but Betty insists that while she finds the idea of a proposal on the spot where they arrested a serial killer’s accomplice excellent, it’s still not suitable for more innocent ears.

“Fine” Jughead concedes. “What would you consider a family-friendly proposal then?” Betty is at a loss of words. In between wanting to tie Jughead to a tree and convincing him to have her babies, a proposal had completely slipped her mind.

“Umm…” Betty stalls. “I don’t really know … A ring hidden in a muffin?” She cringes the moment the words get out of her mouth.

Thankfully Jughead finds it more funny that absurd. “You do you, Cooper” he says as he lets her feet touch the ground. “You put that ring in a muffin. The trick is, of course, to propose before I do.”

And, with that, he drops to his knees pushing down her jeans and panties.

.

.

.

*****************************************

In the witching hour, in a clearing at Fox Forest, Betty Cooper (soon to become Cooper-Jones) puts the empty half of an orange peel on top of one filled with batter (and a ring), wraps the orange with three layers of heavy-duty aluminum foil and places it in the camp fire. She’d be damned if she’ll not have fresh blueberry muffins for Jughead come morning. All she has to do now is make sure that he doesn’t scarf down the ring along with the muffin.

.

.

.

Notes:

Apparently, campfire muffins in oranges are a thing, though I’ve never tried them! What Betty’s melting in the cauldron is butter. She should have used oil, but I needed the cauldron, so …

“Roots of relish sweet and honey wild” belong to John Keats’s La Belle Dame sans Merci.

The blueberry muffin that spells “EAT ME” comes from Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. The original is a small cake with currants.

Betty, Veronica and Cheryl are, of course, reciting part of the spell cast by the Three Witches in Shakespeare’s Macbeth (Act IV, Scene I).

A bit silly but, hopefully, a bit fun too!

[lucivar]

Riverdalepromptathon Week 6

-> VIOLET + DANCING

Another quick draw :)

@riverdalepromptathon

[sagevinyls]

Dancing with your Ghost

A/N: This one isn't the best it could've been. But I'm okay with it. For @riverdalepromptathon week 6.

He drops the box on the ground, and the contents spill across the violets. Letters. Dozens of them. He flips through them, Betty’s handwriting is still the same. Some of them date back years, when she was just out of high school. The breeze blows a letter towards him, and the sun cries down on him. The paper is crinkled slightly, with her tears. Jughead opens the letter slowly, her words were placed side by side neatly, only smudged in places.

Dear Forsythe, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt.

~

When Betty is on deaths doorstep, Jughead reads through a box of her letters addressed to him.

AO3

[viintage-pearls]

Snakes only bite

Your senior prom. It's suppose to be one of the one of the greatest nights of your life. Some girls plan it more than their own wedding. The perfect accessories. The perfect shoes. The perfect dress. And of course, the perfect date.

Betty thought she had all of that. She thought she was gonna have the perfect night. And yet, she found herself crying on the floor of her bedroom.

✰✰✰

She had decided to go with Jughead Jones. Yes, he was a bad boy and known as a risk. She had always found him alluring and she always had a good time with him. So, instead of going with one of the many guys that had asked her, she decided to go with the young serpent king. Too bad it would backfire.

Around 7 o' clock,  she walked into the gym. It was decorated wall to wall with violet cloths which had white fairy lights strung along the walls. Long tables with linens that matched the walls. Each of the seven tables had about 8 chairs on each side. There was a long purple isle from the door to the stage. And there was a huge dance floor that glowed a purple color. Clearly it was decorated by miss Veronica Lodge.

Betty and Jughead decided to just meet up at the school because the only form of transportation he had was his bike. And since she didn't want to ruin her dress, she decided just to take her own car. Maybe that was her biggest mistake.

She looked all around the gym, but he was no where to be found. She asked around, but no one had seen him. She found it peculiar but decided to wait a bit. Giving him the benefit of doubt. Thinking maybe he was just a little late.

Eventually, two hours passed. People were dancing and having a great time with their dates and friends. She was trying to. But, she was getting anxious and felt pathetic waiting around for her date. But, there was a topper to the cake. And this was just the icing.

The time to crown the prom royalty. Betty was sure she had it in the bag since she was the head of the cheer team. And she did. Unfortunately, when her name was called for prom queen, her king still hadn't shown. So, she stood there. On that stage, giving the brightest of smiles even though she was only filled with doubt.

Jughead's runner up, archie andrews ending up becoming king and they shared a dance. The entire time they swirled around in circles around the dance area, her mind was somewhere else. She couldn't help but think about how she would rather be dancing with Jughead than the carrot top.

After the dance, she ran out of the gym. She ran outside and got into her car. She practically sped her way over to the Southside. She normally didn't like going into snake territory after dark, but she was pissed off. And this man better have had a good reason for standing her up.

She sped into the trailer park, surely kicking up gravel. Not that she cared, her mind was only other things. She had always liked him and she really wanted to get to know him. They were both going to new york for college next year. So they would've actually had a chance without the weight of Riverdale's civil weighing them down.

She parked in front of the grey dingy trailer. The blonde woman climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Honestly, she wanted him to hear it. She wanted to hear the angry clicks of her heels. She was pissed off and with good reason. Yet, she hadn't had any clue just how upset she would be.

She knocked on the door and waited a bit. She began to hear a lot of steps and loud voices. She peeked into the window, completely unaware of what she was going to see. But when she did, it completely shattered any thought of them making things work in the future.

Her green orbs observed the dumpy living room. There was another woman with him. The woman's upper body was only covered by a bra. Jughead was half naked. The rest of their clothes thrown across the room, a lamp on the floor. It was clear what they had been doing. It was clear what he had rather been doing some random ass woman than going to a dance with her.

The shock, the hurt, the disappoint, the anger. It was all over her face. Her jaw clenched as she couldn't help but stare with wide eyes for a minute.

Then, he turned his head and he caught her eyes. She didn't stay around long enough to see his reaction. She just wanted to go home. She stormed back into her car. And just like that, she was gone faster than she had came.

✰✰✰

It took jughead a little longer than it should've before he decided to come  check up on her. After everything, he didn't know wether or not he should've. He had been such an asshole and he was sure that she didn't want anything to do with him after the night he had gave her. But, he gathered up all of his courage and eventually found himself riding up to her house.

His blue eyes looked up at the red and white two story dwelling. He contemplated for a moment just turning back home. But, he pushed that thought to the back of his head and found himself going up the back way. The andrews always had a ladder so he used it to get to her bedroom window.

He looked inside the pastel bedroom. He quickly spotted the girl on the floor. She still wore the beautiful lilac dress, even as she cried in a fetal position. He gulped as he felt his heart quench at the sight. He sighed before he knocked on the window.

He watched as the girl jumped a bit out of shock. She looked in his direction, anger quickly taking over her face. He watched as she stormed over, opening the window.

"Why are you here?" She asked him with a raised brow.

He looked up at her, bitting his lip. He didn't know what to say to her. He looked down before looking back up into her eyes. He couldn't help but notice her smeared mascara. "I.. I um, can i come in?" He asked her.

She scoffed a bit but gestured for him to come in. " yeah, sure whatever." She said, walking over to her mirror and pulling her hair into a bun.

Jughead nodded and climbed into her bedroom. He had been in the pink room many times before. But never Without Betty all over him. Not that he ever complained. In fact, he preferred it to her simply tolerating his presence in her bedroom.

" Soo.. What do you want, Jones?" The blonde asked him, wiping her eyes of her ruined make up.

"I just.. I wanted to tell you that i'm sorry. I should've been there. I should've been with you." He told her.

She turned around in the vanity chair, looking at him with a glare. "So, why weren't you?"

He sighed softly. He didn't have a real excuse. His best bet was the truth. "We were at the wrym. Me and my friends were hanging. And all of a sudden, this new girl came into the bar. And she came over to me. One thing led to another and." He said.

She nodded. "And you decided that you would've rather screwed her than to keep your promises. Got it."

Jughead sighed and shook his head. "No. I." He started but just sighed.

"You what?" Betty asked, standing up from the chair and looking up at him.

He looked down, he couldn't bare to meet her eyes. Instead, he watched the purple rug across her floor. His eyes traced the little purple and pink flowers.

Betty raised a brow as she watched him. She shook her head. "God dam, jughead jones. Why do you have to be such an âsshole?" She asked him. There was no response. "Why do i have to be so stupid?" She muttered as she ran her hands over her face.

Jughead glanced back up at her. "Betts.. You're not. I am. I'm sorry, okay? I'm an idiot. I just.. I didn't want to go your stupid little stereotypical northside party." He mumbled.

Betty laughed and shook her head. "You do realize how stupid that sounds? You literally asked me!"

He closed his eyes. "Yeah, well.. You knew what you were getting into when you said yes." He told her.

"Oh, really? Okay. So, now this is my fault? I should've seen it coming that instead of going to prom with me, you would've been at your trailer screwing another woman!?"

Jughead didn't know what to say. she wasn't exactly wrong. He made a promise only to break it. He knew how important this night was to her. And yet, stupid was his chosen path.

"Oh my god, elizabeth. Stop acting like there aren't a million other guys that wanted to go with you tonight. You should've went one of your preppy jocky freinds."

Jughead saw a flash of hurt across her face before it descended into anger. "You're right, jones. I got asked many times. But guess what? I didn't want to go with any of them! I wanted to go with you!"

He scoffed. "Why the hêll would you want to go with me? Look at you. You live on elm street. You are valedictorian AND the leader of the cheer team. You are like literal perfection. I'm from the wrong side of the tracks. I'm the leader of a gang. Why would you wanna go with me?" He asked her.

"Because.. I don't care about that stuff. Because as much as i should, as much as i'm scolded for even looking at you, i can never get you off my mind. Last summer, spending like every day together, it was amazing. I never told you but i fell. Big time. But, i knew it would never work in this town. So when i found out that we were both gonna be in new york next year. I was hopeful for some kind of future. But they were right. My sister, my friends. They told me that you are a snake, and not just by title, you are a fück boy. The best thing you have is your poisonous bite." She muttered, wiping a tear that threatened to fall down her cheek.

He took a moment to let her rambling words sink in. She loved him. Never in his life would he thought that she would love him. Yet, he had suppressed the same feelings. Maybe that was why he asked her to the dance. But he was scared. Because he was almost certain that she would never return those feelings. So, he sabotaged things. Because it seemed easier than being shot down. He felt the guilt on his shoulders. The guilt weighed so much. If he was in water, he would've drown by now. But, he was once more brought to reality when betty said something.

"I think you need to go." Betty told him, chewing on her bottom lip.

Jughead looked up at her. He was filled with sorrow and regret. "Betts, please don't make me go." He said, his voice cracking a bit. He wasn't used to vulnerability. But, he felt like he was on the verge of tears.

Betty didn't answer him, she didn't even look at him. She turned her head away from him and refused to meet his eyes. Her jaw clenched as she tried to contain herself.

Jughead sighed, but he had got the message. He looked at her. "I'm sorry, truly." He whispered, patting her shoulder. His heart breaking with each step he took away from her.

Betty looked back at him. She grabbed his hand before he could too far. She turned him around and pulled him into a deeply passionate kiss. She cupped his cheeks as she kissed him.

Jughead breathed but kissed her back. He was confused, but he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him. Though, before he even knew it, the kiss was over.

She pulled away from him, letting her arms fall to her side after she peeled his hands off her waist.

Jughead looked at her with utter confusion. Talk about mixed signals. "Um.. Why?"

Betty simply smiled at him. " I just want to remind you of what you could've had. What you let go. And i hope to good she was a good enough fück to let me go." The blonde told him with narrowed eyes. "Now run along, you dirty snake." She muttered.

He gulped and continued on to the window, climbing out. He watched as she slammed the window behind him. "I love you, princess." He whispered before he continued down the ladder. Perfection was his. And he let it slip through his fingers. That would forever live with him.

@riverdalepromptathon