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#jabitha bestie powers be like i know you like jabitha take a poorly written at 2am fic
godheadjones · 2 years
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for ficlet starter- 5 <3
"What the hell did I just walk into?"
Jughead looks up from his panels scattered on the floor of their shared apartment and sees Tabitha, holding a bag of Pops takeout.
He stumbles as he stands. "Tabs, I had the greatest flow in my writing career."
He watches as she places the takeout bag on the kitchen counter and stares at the papers spread on the ground. She turns to him with a smile. "That's amazing!" She squats to pick up one of his panels. "Can I read it?
"Of course," he replies immediately, walking to the kitchen counter, and grabbing the takeout bag. "Although you might have to reassemble some puzzle pieces, to put it."
"Really, Jones? Puzzle pieces?” she teases, but then she thinks contented thoughts that are definitely not for Jughead to hear.
He nods. "Yeah, I got a little obsessed with my pages today. Sorry about the mess."
Tabitha, who has now finished collecting all his pages, turns to him. "No, don't be sorry. I'm really happy you're writing again." She looks at the papers in her hand. "Or, well, drawing."
"Is that a mockery of my talent I'm detecting?" He sits at the square table, motioning for Tabitha to do the same.
She does. "No mockery at all, just think about finding someone to do the art for you if this comic does end up being your next big book?"
He takes her free hand. "I love that you're concerned for me, Tabby. But I'll figure something out when I get there." He looks at his own pages. "And yeah, maybe I should hire a professional artist."
"Thank you for not wallowing in your stubbornness," she jokes.
Before he can protest, Tabitha gestures to his mini-manuscript and thinks I'm reading.
Jughead shakes his head at her. He respects her, though, and lets her read in silence, minus the wrinkling of him opening the paper-wrapped burger.
After she has finished reading and he has finished eating, Tabitha smiles at him, which is his cue that it's okay to read her mind again.
"I loved it," she says, holding out her hands. Jughead knows what she wants and puts his own hands into hers.
"And you're not just saying that?"
"Oh my God, no," she assures, brushing her fingers gently with his. "I genuinely believe that this could be published one day. Please, keep writing."
He smiles back at her. "Mockery to flattery." He pretends to ponder it. "Yeah, I can live with that."
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