Alcohol, an irresponsible situation, and a backseat of a vehicle all optional. Teenage angst and hormones not optional. All teenage characters from any time, setting, or canon welcome, as are adult characters aged down.
Just Feeling It Out: Maybe you'll finally get to touch a boob!
Accidental Boner: Oh. Hi there, downstairs.
Deep Kissing: Heavy tongue action.
Flawless Approach: WILL YOU PLEASE HAVE THE SEX WITH ME? always works.
Party: A crazy atmosphere can lead to crazy decisions.
Goofballs: Both of you kind of suck at this, but at least you're cute.
Experience Difference: It doesn't count if it's not with you. That's what you tell yourself, anyway.
Boyfrands/Girlfrands: Finally rounding those bases with your honey.
No Play: They've told you no touching them below the belt. Oops!
Fumble: You touched the wrong place or said the wrong thing. Is this the end of your adventure.
Desperate: Please, please, please, let me stick it in.
Oral: Sometimes, you just want to kiss someone there.
Feels So Good: Let's hope you can last.
Love Confession: Now is a good a time as ever to tell them how you feel
Success: Awww yeah, break out the cigarette.
Failure: Hopefully they'll forgive you for staining their clothes.
[okay I don't actually ship these two but I love writing ridiculously awkward teenage hormone problems so I fully volunteer this idiot to pop an accidental no-reason-boner in your presence, Miss Cooper]
Betty's room is very, very pink. Jughead isn't sure why he expected it to be any different, but it's still kind of jarring every time he comes over for a study date. He can feel his inner goth cringe as he dumps his book bag onto the ridiculous floral duvet.
He does look a little out-of-place here, black and shades of grey against the brighter colors. Truth be told there's sometimes a part of Betty that wishes she could tear it all down - but like the rest of the Cooper house, her room is a byproduct of her mother's need to have a hand in everything, even aesthetics.
She swivels away from her vanity mirror, getting up to retrieve some of the books in the bag draped over the back of her desk chair.
"Weren't you the one who said you wanted to study for that history final?" She's half-teasing, of course, and ducks her head to hide a grin as she assumes a seat on the bed.
"Sure, but it's not like we don't have a crap load of other work to get through, too," Jughead glares at the over-stuffed bag on Betty's bed, as if willing it to shrink itself through sheer force of will.
"What'll it be, read up some more of the one-sided American history carefully leaving out half the genocide, or did you wanna tackle the trig we're definitely gonna use again in our lives?"
Betty groans, momentarily holding her head in her hands. "Ugh, don't remind me. You'd think all of this was supposed to get easier at some point. Or maybe that's the joke of it all, right?"
With an audible sigh, she shuffles her weight to sit cross-legged, pulling the first textbook off the pile on her bed and flipping open to the right section. The color-coordinated notebook soon follows, and she shifts them both in her lap. No one can say Betty Cooper isn't thoroughly (and perhaps a little too) organized.
Jughead just barely suppresses a little smile at Betty's impeccably organized study notes. It so fits with everything Betty is on the outside, with her pink bedroom and flawless ponytail and blouses buttoned up to the neck. Jughead counts himself lucky he gets to be one of the few to see the other side of Betty, the fiercer side that always comes out when she senses an injustice.
He perches himself on the bed across from her, painfully aware of the fact that he hasn't washed these jeans in a few weeks. Everything he owns feels particularly shabby next to the prim perfection of Betty's room, from the holes in his sneakers to the binder he's mostly holding together with duct tape and prayers. He kicks his shoes off and curls up on the opposite end of the bed, math textbook in his lap. "If it is a joke, it's got a hell of a depressing punchline."
"One big, cosmic joke." Betty pushes another sigh out through slightly pursed lips, running one finger down across the ruled paper with its faint blue lines. Most of the time she doesn't have an issue reading her own handwriting, but there are the moments when her vision starts to double everything and even her own familiar cursive looks like ancient hieroglyphs.
There might be a lot of uncertainty in her life currently, but studying with Jughead - it's a reassuring constant, at least. Admittedly, she'd only really gotten to know him through Archie when they were younger, and when he and Archie had briefly stopped speaking the whole situation had been a little weird. It's one of the reasons why she'd asked Jughead to come and work with her at the Blue and Gold; she wants him to know that her allegiance doesn't rest with any one person, even if things with her and Archie are a little painful right now.
"You might be one of the few people my mom wouldn't flip over if she walked in on us up here," she quietly muses. "Don't take that as a compliment, though."
"I won't. What is your mom's issue with half the town, anyway. Was there like a Carrie situation when she was in high school or something and now she's set on revenge?" Sure, it might be a little dramatic. But no one could ever say Jughead doesn't have a flair for the melodramatic.
In a town as small as Riverdale, it's hard not to know everyone your age, but Jughead did spend a pretty solid chunk of his childhood convinced that girls carried life-ending cooties viruses so he'd mostly stuck to hanging with Archie one-on-one. He could almost kick himself for missing out, now. Not only is Betty a pretty good partner in crime as the newspaper, he's found she's chill to hang out with, too. It's nice to take a break from the total unending drama that seems to have taken over their lives since the summer.
He shuffles down a the bed a little, trying his best to peer into Betty's notebook without being too obvious about it. "uh, what did you get for question 10? Pretty sure I'm entirely off the mark on that one."
"She's a newspaper editor, she's got blackmail on most of Riverdale," Betty says, and the reason it isn't entirely funny is that it's also entirely true. It's also one of the town's most kept secrets, and why she wasn't surprised that Alice was able to get info on Jason Blossom's death more quickly than anyone else. Bribery, blackmail, manipulation: all tenets of objective journalism, right?
She shakes her head, fully ready to move on from this particular subject to an actual school subject instead. When Jughead leans into her space she doesn't flinch away; instead, she turns the book so he can read more closely. "I think you have to find the value of a based on this formula," she points out.
[It wasn't just Jack's hormones that were raging; Ardyn's were too. Even if he was over forty and the rest. He was older than he looked. Right now, you can find him walking down the corridor of the school, grabbing his student by the collar the thrusting him up against the nearby wall. The Chancellor's tongue invades his mouth roughly, tongue sliding across the boy's, with a groan rumbling up from his chest. Yes, oh yes. This was perfect. It was lucky the corridor was empty as this time.]
[ Jack should have been in class. The fact that he was wandering the corridors instead made it easier for his history teacher to push him against the wall without anyone seeing.
He let out a muffled cry in surprise, lips parting to offer the older man access to his mouth without really thinking about it.
They could really get in serious trouble for this. Then again... school wasn't much fun without trouble, was it? Jack reached a hand up to tangle in his teacher's long hair, holding him close with a tight grip. ]
[Ardyn broke off the kiss as quickly as he had started it. They were exposed out in the corridor. Anyone could walk past and see them like....this. The older man clasped Jack by the hand and pulled himself the history room. Ardyn's safe house. He closed the door behind them and offered the boy a coy smile.]
How have we been, Jack? Have you been a good boy doing all your history homework for me, hm? If not then...I may have to punish you.
[He walked over to the blackboard and fingered a ruler that was lying on the ledge.]
"You wouldn't think a boring little town like Riverdale would have that much dirt to dig up, and yet here we are..." he takes the invitation to move closer, tucking his skinny legs under him so he can lean over on his knees. "What kind of sick person first decided high schoolers needed to learn advanced algebra, anyway? This is basically torture. You know the average person never even uses higher than an 8th grade level-"
But his excellent rant on the broken state of public education system is cut off. Something... unexpected is happening.
Look, it's not like this hasn't happened to Jughead before. He's a 15-year-old boy, he's basically a 24-7 mess of hormones. It's perfectly natural and all that bullshit that sometimes your body isn't entirely under control and can... act up. A little. More than a little.
It would just be really, really great if it didn't have to happen when he's on his knees leaning over to look at one of his best friend's math homework.
He pauses, takes a long breath in through his nose, and tries very, VERY hard to hide any sign of panic on his face. He isn't sure exactly how successful it us.
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bakerstreet2017-02-24 08:45 pm
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