#betty: yes this is my boss and also owner of this here building. he is not commiting a crime. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluevelvetvideo · 5 years

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Walking in on your employee as she plays with her toys and has her eyes closed which makes her not realize your presence. As she reaches her high, you walk in on her. (Bughead where Jughead is the employer and Betty the young naive employee)

Okay, nonnie. You asked for it! Thank you to @mieteve-minijoma for bouncing ideas with me and encouraging my filth. (Unbeta'd - all mistakes are mine)

Betty Cooper had taken the job as editor of an up-and-coming magazine on a whim. She never expected it to be one of the most fulfilling and autonomous jobs she’s ever had. She also didn’t expect that three months after moving into her apartment that there’d be a water leak so severe that she had to move in with Polly and Jason (and their two kids) for the foreseeable future.

She loved her family, really she did, but having to share a bedroom with twin seven year olds was nothing something she was prepared to do. She was very much used to having her alone time for her very intimate way she’d relieve her stress from her daily woes at the office.

Her main stress being that the owner of the magazine, her boss, Mr. Jones was deliciously handsome and she could not stop thinking about him pressing her up against the copy machine and fucking her senseless. She kept it professional, but after the third time of being interrupted during her destressing, she decided that Polly’s apartment was not the place for that anymore.

She’d made it a habit to stay late at night, barricaded in her office. When she was sure everyone else had left for the day, she’d use an incognito tab on her phone to search for porn. Lately, it’s been tall, lanky men with wild dark locks having his way with a small blonde woman. Sure she was projecting, but she couldn’t be mad at herself. Everyone has needs.

She places her headphones in her ears and relaxes onto the small couch that came standard in every office. She hiked her sundress around her hips and her fingers glided their way to pet her clothed sex, building up the anticipation. She moaned when the filthiest words fell from the man in the video’s lips, calling his partner a good girl and how he couldn’t wait to feel her tight cunt around his cock.

Jughead Jones was still in his office, far later than usual, lights off to try to prevent the migraine he knows is eventually going to win out. He was going through the cover headlines for the upcoming edition and if he stared at another picture of whatever it was he was looking at, he was going to explode.

He got up from his desk and paced around his office. More coffee, he thought as he walked toward the kitchenette. He popped in a pod and hit strong brew before he wandered around, waiting for it to drip into his mug. He saw the lights on in the new girl’s office. Cooper, yes. He really did have to make it a point to not call her the new girl anymore. She’d been there for nearly a year.

He’d seen her stay late a few times a week, but he never thought anything of it. Her work was spectacular, the best he’d seen in quite some time, but it was borderline obscenely late and he walked down to check in on her.

Each office had privacy screens, usually drawn during meetings and concept brainstorming days. By the way the light was spilling into the hallway, he could tell hers were not down. He walks slowly and leans against her doorway before assessing the situation.

“Fuck,” he whispered as his eyes are met with his employee pleasuring herself, eyes closed. From the sounds of it, she’s about to come.

He knows he should walk away, he knows it’s rude to watch, but he can’t look away. He would be lying if he’d said he never wondered what she sounded like when she came, or the look on her face as she reached her peak. He’d also be lying if he said he’d never jerked off in his own office before, but at least he remembered to close the privacy screen.

His cock is straining against his slacks and he palms himself, watching as Betty dips her fingers into her entrance, head thrown back in passion. He gripped himself, unable to control it, when he heard a small whimpered Mr. Jones before a growl and relentless panting.

Oh, he thought. Well, I think there may definitely be something I can do about his. As her breathing returns to normal, he slips back into the kitchen to gather his coffee and makes his way back to his office, leaving the open just a crack.

He fervently types out and email. He hit send before he could think any better of it. Suddenly, it is too hot. He takes off his jacket and tie. It’s a start.

Betty smoothed her skirt down, returning to her desk to find a new email waiting for her. Her eyes widen and she is struck with fear.

Meet me in my office. Now.

She swallowed thickly, trying to regain her composure. She can still feel the heat of her cheeks and her heart is racing like it’s going to beat right out of her chest. She got up from her desk, trying her hardest to calm her nerves as she made her way to Mr. Jones’ office just down the hall and to the left.

When she knocks on the door, there is no answer, so she pushes the door open to find her boss, propped against his desk, dress shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair disheveled and the top few buttons of his always crisp shirt undone.

Her heart is racing faster. She’d never seen him looking so unkempt. His usual strictly business attire turned casual had her thighs clenching together, seeking some kind of friction.

“You,” she swallowed. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Jones.”

She watched as he crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles flexing with the movement. He cleared his throat and her eyes shot to his: blown wide.

"You've been working late a lot recently, Miss Cooper."

"Yes, Sir," she nodded. "Living with my sister and her family has made it difficult to concentrate."

He quirked an eyebrow and smirked. "Can't exactly get yourself off with little ones running around, can you?"

Her eyes widened further. She was caught. She was probably going to get fired. Fuck.

"I asked you a question, Miss Cooper," Jughead said when Betty hadn't responded.

She hung her head in shame. "No, Sir."

“So, you wait until you think no one is in the office and do it here?” She nodded. Jughead pushed off the desk and approached her slowly.

“That’s correct.”

“You’ve done a poor job of making sure you’ve had the office to yourself the last few weeks,” he smirked, still pacing toward her, his eyes trained on her.

This had not been the first time Jughead had caught Betty pleasuring herself in her office. The first time was nearly a month ago, where she screamed his name with such fire he was drawn to her.

Of course, he’d always noticed the beautiful blonde in editing. How could he not? From her resume alone she was just his type. He made it a point to stay later than usual, lights off, to see if it was a one time thing, or if her moaning his name would be a recurring event. He was extremely thankful it was recurring.

He’d watch her get herself off then head back to his office to do the same, her face behind his eyelids with her name dripping from his lips.

“What?” He watched as her hands nervously flattened her skirt and her shoulders pinned back.

He approached her still, close enough that she was backing up until she was pinned against his office door. His arms caged her head and she looked up at him with doe eyes.

“This is not the first time I’ve caught you, Betty,” he said, his voice husky. “Or is that what you wanted?”

“No, Sir. I’m sorry,” she said looking down, eyes focused on her shoes.

He tipped her chin up gently to look at him. Her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she finally returned his eye contact.

“I’m not,” he smirked.

Her lips parted as his long, dexterous finger grazed its way from her chin to her chest. He could feel his cock straining against his zipper as her breath caught in her throat.

“You’re not?”

“No.” His head ducked down to the shell of her ear, his breath fanning across her cheek. “I would have loved to help.” She whimpered at the confession. “Is that something you want?”

She nodded slowly.

“Have you ever pretended it was me between your legs instead of your own hand?” Jughead asked, his voice so full of desire he barely recognized it himself.

“Yes, Sir. Every time.”

“As much as I love hearing you call me Sir, please. Call me Jughead,” he said pressing a slight kiss to her ear.

“Yes, Si--Jughead,” she gasped, turning her head to meet his gaze. They stayed there, eyes locked until she could feel herself nearly combusting. She lurched forward and joined their lips. Her hands smoothing up the expanse of his chest, locking around his neck as he pushed her further into the door.

His lips swiped against her bottom lip and she moaned into his mouth, granting him entrance. His tongue explored every corner of her before he trailed hot open-mouthed kisses down her neck. His thumbs were at the strap of her dress, slowly drawing them down her shoulder when her arms fell, freeing herself from the confines of her dress. It slipped down and pooled with a flutter against the hardwood floor of his office.

“I don’t,” she gasped as he sucked a patch of her flesh into his mouth. “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

He paused, lifting his head from her collarbone, eyes wide, heart pounding in his chest. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, but - “

“But what?”

“You’re my boss,” she whined, wriggling against his body, which apparently didn’t get the memo from her brain. “Isn’t there some kind of law against that?”

“Not the last that I checked. But if you want me to stop, than I’ll stop,” he backed away slowly, his hands running through his hair.

“And if I don’t want you to stop?” Betty said, pushing herself off the door and approaching him. Her pace was sinfully slow, clad only a skimpy pair of underwear and a thin lace bra that he was sure was purely for decoration.

She pushed him backward into the oversized chair in the corner and straddled his hips.

“What if I don’t want you to stop, Mr. Jones?” Her voice was teasing, the tip of her nose dragging against his.

He rolled his hips into hers, his erection pulsating in his slacks. She hummed and ground down against him, joining their lips together. Jughead bit at her lower lip and sucked at it as her hips came down against his again.

#riverdaleevents #riverdalekinkweek #kink week prompt #anonymous ask

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papermoonloveslucy · 3 years

Text

LIZ’S INFERIORITY COMPLEX

February 3, 1951

“Liz’s Inferiority Complex” (aka “Liz Develops an Inferiority Complex”) is episode #117 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on February 3, 1951.

This was the 19th episode of the third season of MY FAVORITE HUSBAND. There were 31 new episodes, with the season (and series) ending on March 31, 1951.

Synopsis ~ After messing up a joke, bombing at bridge, and lousing up George's breakfast, Liz develops an inferiority complex.

Note: This program was the basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode "The Inferiority Complex" (ILL S2;E18) filmed on September 6, 1952 and first aired on February 2, 1953. Much of the dialogue is repeated verbatim from the radio program.

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Gale Gordon (Rudolph Atterbury) had worked with Lucille Ball on “The Wonder Show” on radio in 1938. One of the front-runners to play Fred Mertz on “I Love Lucy,” he eventually played Alvin Littlefield, owner of the Tropicana, during two episodes in 1952. After playing a Judge in an episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” in 1958, he would re-team with Lucy for all of her subsequent series’: as Theodore J. Mooney in ”The Lucy Show”; as Harrison Otis Carter in “Here’s Lucy”; and as Curtis McGibbon on “Life with Lucy.” Gordon died in 1995 at the age of 89.

Bea Benadaret (Iris Atterbury) was considered the front-runner to be cast as Ethel Mertz but when “I Love Lucy” was ready to start production she was already playing a similar role on TV’s “The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show” so Vivian Vance was cast instead. On “I Love Lucy” she was cast as Lucy Ricardo’s spinster neighbor, Miss Lewis, in “Lucy Plays Cupid” (ILL S1;E15) in early 1952. Later, she was a success in her own show, “Petticoat Junction” as Shady Rest Hotel proprietress Kate Bradley. She starred in the series until her death in 1968.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) does not appear in this episode, although she is mentioned.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

Alan Reed (Dr. Auerbach) is probably best remembered as the voice of Fred Flintstone. He started his acting career in 1937. He played a cafe owner in “Lucy Visits the White House” (TLS S1;E25) first aired on March 25, 1963. In 1967, he made an appearance on the Desi Arnaz series “The Mothers-in-Law”. He died in 1977 at the age of 69.

Bea Benadaret (Iris) played Betty Rubble on “The Flintstones” with Reed. The character was likely named for comic actor Artie Auerbach. In 1938, he announced plans to marry Cleo, Lucille Ball’s cousin. Ball intervened because she was underage, but the couple later married anyway. Like most psychiatrists on TV and radio, Reed speaks with a German accent, no doubt inspired by Sigmund Freud. On the television version of “The Inferiority Complex” the psychiatrist was played by Gerard Mohr and the character’s name was Dr. Henry Molin.

THE EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “Let's look in on the Coopers. It’s evening and they're entertaining George's boss, Mr. Atterbury, and his wife Iris. Dinner is over and the group are now in the living room.”

They discuss what a wonderful meal Liz prepared for them. Mr. Atterbury ate a 17 oysters! He's even got a joke to accompany the oysters, about a deep sea diver and a mermaid, but Iris won't let him tell it in mixed company.

LIZ: “Iris, this company isn’t mixed, it’s married!

Liz decides that she'll try to tell one instead, but she's not very good at telling jokes. She cannot decide whether it is about a man or a woman - or a restaurant or a cafeteria. Liz can’t remember the punch line, but George impatiently interrupts and tells the joke for her.

GEORGE: “The woman said I’ll take two pork chops and make them lean. And the waiter said ‘yes, ma’am, which way?’”

Everyone agrees that Liz can’t tell jokes. She dissolves into tears.

To change the subject, they decide to play bridge instead. Nobody wants to partner with Liz. This fuels her feelings of inferiority.

At breakfast the next day, Liz confesses that she’s not so bright and that she doesn’t do things well. The breakfast is undercooked, so George tells her to talk to Katie. Liz is in tears again - it is Katie’s day off and she has prepared breakfast herself. She can’t tell jokes, she can’t play bridge, and now she can’t cook. She challenges George to name one thing she’s good at.

GEORGE: “You’re very good at.... Well, your wonderful at... You’re really great at, uh...” LIZ: “Waaah!” GEORGE: “What are you crying for?” LIZ: “I can’t think of anything either.”

Later, Iris drops by and find Liz in bed, depressed. Iris refuses to believe that Liz is a failure.

IRIS: “You can... Well, for one thing you’re the best at.... Well, you’ve always been tops in...” LIZ: “Those are the same ones George came up with.”

Iris says that at the very least that there isn’t another person in the world who gets their hair the color Liz does! George comes home from work and is surprised to find Liz still in bed. He takes Iris aside and says that he will take Liz to a psychiatrist.

At the psychiatrist's office, Dr. Auerbach (Alan Reed) examines Liz.

DOCTOR: “Lie down on the couch.” LIZ: “Why?” DOCTOR: “I dunno. That’s what they do in the movies.”

Liz can’t find anything interesting about herself to tell the Doctor, so she ask him to tell her something about himself. It isn’t long before he is the patient and she is the therapist.

In the television version, Ricky convinces the Doctor to pretend to be an old friend, and brings him home instead of Lucy going to his office to provide his ‘treatment’. Ricky gets jealous of the Doctor’s attentions, but Lucy reminds him it is all part of the “Treatment, Ricky! Treatment!”

Later, George invites the Atterburys over to tell them the results of Liz’s exam. The Doctor suggests they try to restore her confidence by building up her ego. George tells them that whatever Liz does, they should ‘lay it on thick’.

MR. ATTERBURY (gushing): “Liz! Dream girl!”

Earlier, George also called Liz ‘Dream Girl’. In 1947, just prior to starting “My Favorite Husband,” Lucille Ball starred in a revival tour of the Edgar Rice play Dream Girl.

Everything Liz says or does, the others break out in laughter and compliments. Liz is emboldened by their enthusiasm and keeps telling story after story - until the entire room is nodding off from boredom and it is 2:30 in the morning.

Liz finally tells them to give it up - she heard George on the telephone with the psychiatrist and she’s been on to their scheme the whole time. Why did she let them go on for so long?

LIZ: “Because this is the first time in my life I’ve gotten to be the center of attention for the whole evening and I liked it.”

End of Episode

#My Favorite Husband #I Love Lucy #Lucille Ball #Richard Denning #Desi Arnaz #Gale Gordon #Vivian Vance #William Frawley #TV #Radio #Inferiority Complex #Allan Reed #Bea Benadaret #CBS #Bob LeMond #Dream Girl

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juggieheadcoopers-blog · 7 years

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Bughead soulmate au please? :)

Here you go, anon!

Title: The Girl From the Journal

Soulmate AU: Jughead Jones has been writing about a girl he has never met before, but when he leaves his journal at his favorite coffee shop one day, an unsuspecting young woman finds it without knowing that the stranger who wrote it was actually writing about her

–

She wears her hair held high in an off-the-face-neat-and-tidy sort of way that shows the world she’s ready to concur it. Her mind drifts from one idea to the next without stopping to take a breath. And although she doesn’t know it, she impacts every single person she meets just by being exactly who she is.

24-year-old, Jughead Jones III looked up from the beat-up journal that his father had given him for his sixteenth birthday eight years ago, turning in his seat to thank the waitress for the cup of coffee she had just set on the table in front of him. He had been writing an entry a day since he had found it sitting on his bed with a big red bow tied around the front cover when he got home from school, and he hadn’t missed a day since.

“Can I get you anything else?” the waitress, all fluttery eyelashes and puckered lips, asked in the sweetest voice she could possibly muster as she smoothed out her apron and turned to smile sweetly at him.

“No, that’ll be all, thanks,” Jughead dismissed her without a second glance, taking a small sip of his coffee and immediately picking up his fountain pen to continue writing.

“Well, if you need anything else, my name is Naomi,” the waitress informed him, taking a step back from the table and gesturing towards the front of the coffee shop. “I’ll be behind the counter for a while, so just let me know if-”

“Got it,” Jughead cut her off before she could finish, and Naomi sunk back behind the counter without another word.

Jughead focused his attention back to his journal entry for the day, furrowing his brow as he waited for more words about his mystery girl to flow from pen to page like they’d always done so naturally. He had been writing about this girl for years, and although she was nameless, she had distinct features that made her almost impossible to miss if he were ever to meet her in real life. She had become somewhat of an obsession of his over the past few months, distracting him from work and relationships to the point where he was beginning to believe that this girl he created in his mind, was actually out there somewhere waiting to be found.

Just as he was about to tackle his next paragraph, his phone began buzzing frantically on the table, causing the cup of coffee to shake and shimmy all across the table in the process.

“Mr. Dawson,” Jughead answered, his voice rising an octave the way it always did whenever he spoke to his boss. “Yes, I understand that there’s a deadline and I’m - no sir, I wasn’t aware that I took you for granted - yes, sir - yes, and I’ll be there in an hour - now I’ll be there right now, I’m on my way. Okay, see you soon - in ten minutes, I’ll see you in ten minutes, goodbye!”

Jughead clicked off his phone and scooped up his messenger bag from beside him in the booth before sliding out of his seat. Taking one last gulp of his coffee, he carelessly tossed his journal into his bag before hurrying to the front of the shop to pay his bill.

Just as he reached the counter, a woman carrying an overflowing box of what looked to be gardening tools came barreling into the coffee shop without any control of her feet or the box she held in front of her.

“Sorry, excuse me, if you’d just - oops - sorry, sir, are you okay?” With the box partly obstructing her view, the woman nearly slammed straight into an older man carrying a to-go cup, dodging him by only just a hair and knocking her elbow into the counter as a result. “Ow!”

Still in a hurry, Jughead tried to block out the woman’s incessant apologies and turned to the employee behind the counter. “Hi, I’m ready to pay, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, just one moment,” she smiled at Jughead, but then turned to the crazed woman with the box, her eyes going wide as she took in the scene that was unfolding before her.

“I actually don’t have a moment, I’m-” Jughead tried to protest, but the woman behind the counter was already heading over to inspect what was happening near the front door.

“Betty, what on earth are you carrying?”

“Hey, Polly, I’m just… Hold on a second,” the crazed woman, now known as Betty, dropped her box onto one end of the counter and quickly dusted her hands off. “Ah, that’s better.”

“Okay, start explaining,” Polly instructed, nodding to the box of gardening tools and raising a curious eyebrow. “What is all this?”

“My third graders are learning about rocks and minerals this week,” Betty explained. “So I’ve been going around the neighborhood looking for different kinds of stones and varieties of soil to-”

“Sorry,” Jughead interrupted, pulling on his messenger bag impatiently and flapping his check in the air. “I don’t mean to be that guy, but if I don’t get back to my office in seven and a half minutes, my boss has threatened to strap a rocket to my back and send me flying to some unknown universe so if I could just-”

“Yes, sorry,” Polly hurried back over the the cash register and took Jughead’s credit card, quickly ringing him up and tearing off a piece of paper from the machine next to her and handing it to him. “Here’s your receipt, enjoy the rest of your day!”

“Thank you,” Jughead nodded at Polly and turned to head out the door, but before pushing it open to brave the cold morning air, Jughead stopped suddenly and turned back to Betty. “Good luck with the rock thing by the way. There’s some good ones by the lake just off Kingston Drive, if you’re still looking. It’s a gold mine down there trust me!”

With that, Jughead left the coffee shop, leaving Betty to turn back to Polly with a surprised smile on her face.

“Well, that was unexpectedly kind of him. Most guys in suits like that aren’t usually so friendly,” Betty pointed out, thinking back to all the guys she knew in college who were crazed, wannabe business tycoons with a bad attitude.

“He comes in here every morning. Sometimes in the evening too if he’s trying to meet a deadline,” Polly informed her, wiping the counter down with a cloth and leaning forward on the surface with her elbows. “Yet I still have no idea what his name is.”

“He’s a writer?” Betty guessed, trying her best to conceal the interest that had seemed to pop up in her voice.

“Yeah, some kind of hotshot news editor by the looks of it,” Polly explained, pushing off the counter and bending down to fix an out-of-place pastry in the display case.

“Interesting,” Betty muttered, turning back to the door and looking out the window intently. “I wonder if - uh oh.”

An object on the floor in front of the welcome mat caught Betty’s attention, and she hurried over to investigate.

“What is it?” Polly asked, her brows furrowing together as she took in the old journal that her sister was gently holding in her hands.

“Looks like Cinder-editor left his notebook behind,” Betty concluded, holding up the journal for Polly to see.

“Well, hurry, go track him down before he turns into a pumpkin!” Polly joked, gesturing to the door and ushering for her to leave.

Betty knew that there was no way he would still be around, but she also knew that she had to take a chance. Pushing through the front door, Betty hurried out onto the streets, searching both ways for any sign of the journal’s owner. Spotting the same old beanie that she remembered seeing the man wearing at the end of the sidewalk one street over, Betty moved quickly to catch up to him.

“Wait!” she called out to him, but he was already joining the crowd of people in front of him and crossing the street. “Wait, you forgot you’re-”

With all the chaos happening around her, Betty got swept up into a group of school kids heading to their bus stop and ran straight into a woman walking her poodle in the opposite direction.

“Watch where you’re going!” the woman snapped, glancing back at Betty to glare at her before heading into the apartment building behind them.

“Ow, why does that keep happening to me?” Betty rubbed her shoulder, standing on her tiptoes to see if she could spot the beanie again, but it was nowhere to be found.

Glancing down at the journal in her hands, a thought crossed her mind that she knew was unethical, but kept popping back up to the forefront the longer she stared at its worn cover.

“Betty, don’t read it, that would be an invasion of privacy,” she muttered to herself, quickly shaking the thought from her mind and tucking the journal safely under her arm. “But then again, maybe he has his name written somewhere in the front cover. I mean, how else am I going to get this back to him if I don’t know his name?”

Betty slowly slipped the journal back into her hands, glancing behind her shoulder in case anyone passing her on the street could tell how much of a snoop she was being.

“Oh, what the heck,” she conceded, flipping open the book to check for a name. Written in thick letters were the words: Property of Forsythe Pendleton Jones III and scribbled underneath it in tinier, childlike handwriting was the name Jughead.

“Odd,” Betty mumbled, thinking about how strange the name Jughead sounded in her mind. Yet, there was a familiarity to it that made it seem ordinary somehow. Like it was the most common, natural-sounding name she had ever heard.

Having found the name she was hoping to find, Betty prepared her hands to close the journal and head back to her sister’s coffee shop. But before she could follow through, and even though she could never explain it, something stopped her. It was as if there was a pull in the universe causing her eyes to wander over to the next page and read the story that was scribbled carelessly onto the white paper.

“No way,” Betty breathed, letting the words sink in as she flipped to the next page. After reading several entries all about the same girl, Betty slammed the journal and sprinted back to the coffee shop.

“Polly!” she exclaimed as she threw open the door, dodging several customers as she made her way back to the counter.

“What?” Polly’s eyes went wide as she took in her sister, all wild eyes and heavy breathing. “Did you give that guy his journal back?”

“Not yet,” Betty admitted, her breath coming in heavy spurts as she tried to slow her heart rate. “But I was looking through it and-”

“You read it?” Polly gasped. “Elizabeth Cooper, you should be ashamed.”

“I know, I know, but listen to this,” Betty opened to a random page in the journal and started to read the man’s words that had made her heart lurch in her throat.

“’She wanted to shape young minds. To show them that there was a place for them in the world that was better than what they might have seen in the past. And while she was never quite sure of her ability to succeed, she was positive in her ability to teach them that they could.’”

“Okay, that’s beautiful and all, but I’m not really sure I’m getting your point,” Polly told her, tossing a rag over her shoulder and leaning against the counter.

“This entry, and every entry after that, they’re all describing this girl,” Betty explained, holding out the journal for her sister to see. “But the way he writes about her - it never seems like she’s someone that he knows. She’s just this person that exists in this journal but not in real life except-”

“Except?”

“Except I think that she does,” Betty concluded. “And I think that I’m her.”

“Betty, you realize you sound psychotic correct?” Polly threw the rag at her sister, who lunged forward to catch it at the exact wrong moment and let the piece of cloth fall to the floor.

“I know how it sounds, but do you remember that story I wrote for English class in the tenth grade?” Betty asked, bending down to scoop up the rag and set it on the counter. “The one that mom hated?”

“Yeah, it was that piece about the boy who’s father was never around because he was some sort of drug dealer or something. And then he gave the boy a present for his birthday that changed his life before he left town for good and never came back,” Polly recounted the story and looked up to raise her eyebrows at Betty as if to say, ‘so what?’ “Yeah, I remember. Why?”

“Read this,” Betty shoved the journal in Polly’s direction and pointed to the description on the back cover. Rolling her eyes, Polly quickly read about how the owner of the journal got that very book from his father on his sixteenth birthday and then never saw him again after that day.

“It has to be some sort of coincidence,” Polly concluded, shutting the journal and handing it back to Betty.

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Betty whispered, running her fingers along the etchings on the front cover. “I think that I was writing about this man - Jughead - and I think that he was writing about me.”

“That’s insane, Betty, you don’t even know each other,” Polly reminded her.

“I know that,” Betty sighed. “But I think that this is a sign - finding this journal, meeting him today - I think that I was meant to know him.”

“Okay, let’s say that’s true,” Polly cautiously gave in, folding her arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at Betty. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to find him,” Betty declared, grabbing her purse from the stool she had left it on and shoved the journal safely inside. “And then he’s going to explain to me how he’s been writing about me for eight years when I only just met him this morning.”

Before her sister could protest, Betty headed out the door and made her way to the only newsroom in town, determined to find the man who owned the journal. The man who, she knew in her heart, she was meant to know. And the man who was about to change her entire world.

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