Gender: Female
Age: 31
Sign:
Pisces
Country: United States
Signup Date:
July 12, 2018
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11/27/2022 11:32 PM
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See You Like I Do.
serpent juliet ♔ betty cooper  See You Like I Do. If you saw you from my point of view You'd know how beautiful you are Sometimes I swear you must be blind Don't know how you ain't got a clue Wish you could see it through my eyes 'Cause then you could see you like I do
I could see you on a billboard, Beverly or Sunset Looking fine as hell I could see you on the runway, walking with your wings With Gigi and Giselle But you ain't gotta be in Paris, rockin' some designer brand Baby, anything you're wearing is gonna leave me saying, "Damn" "If you saw you from my point of view" Betty was unaware of the length of time he had been sitting in that position, leisurely resting against the door frame of the restroom with his feet crossed comfortably and his hands idly dangling in pockets on each side. She had just finished washing her face and brushing her teeth before retiring for the night. She let her hair fall over her shoulders as she ran the gentle bristled brush through it several times before gathering the length of it around her neck and pulling it to the side. At that moment, she became aware that she wasn't the only one in the room. When she finally saw that he was there, she saw that his eyes met hers in the image of the mirror; nevertheless, the slack expression that he wore was not one that she could instantly discern until he said.
She swung around to face him with a gasp of surprise, and she felt an immediate rush of blood to her cheeks as a result of the manner in which his eyes were so utterly focused on her. He was no longer staring in the mirror but relatively straight at her. She wore a simple lace camisole slip, which was out of character for her typical sleeping attire, which consisted of one of his old t-shirts or nothing at all. It was an extravagant bridal shower gift from Veronica, and something about the trim of the lace around the bodice enticed her to pull it out of the drawer she'd stashed it in years ago. Betty had no intention of ever putting it on, but she was kind enough to take the present and express her gratitude to her closest friend. However, she put the item away and never gave it another consideration since she was aware of how exposed the thin material would make her feel.
It was a choice she made on the spur of the moment, spontaneous in a way that Betty Cooper was seldom spontaneous, and once she put it on, it made her feel beautiful in a way that she rarely, if ever, felt about herself. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision for her. It was simple enough, or at least as simple as Veronica Lodge's taste in expensive lingerie could be while keeping her best friend in mind. At first, Betty was keenly aware that the price tag attached was more than what they would pay for their mortgage in a month's time, but the longer she wore it, the less she cared about the price tag.
The abrupt onset of self-consciousness brought on by Jughead's presence and the way he was staring at her just at this moment made her want to search for anything to cover herself up. She was about to speak but wasn't sure what to say. Her shoulders curled inward in a half-shrug as she looked down her front and down her bare legs to her pink-painted toes. Her lips opened for her to speak, but she didn't know what to say. He was dressed in one of his shirts with the letter "S" emblazoned on it and jeans. His beanie was still on top of his head, and he appeared to be exactly as she had pictured him all those years ago, even though their appearances had evolved and changed throughout their adult lives. She eventually had the courage to peek out from behind her eyelashes and give him another glance. "Do you like it?" Her hands were clasped in front of her, and her fingers were writhing and twisting against one another as she did so. You'd know how beautiful you are,
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11/26/2022 11:54 PM
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Love You More.
serpent juliet ♔ betty cooper Love You More Hoping you call 'bout anything I love when you call me about anything I love how you don't doubt anything Like I said, get anything 'Cause I love the way you call my phone
'Cause I love you more than anything (go 'head, oh, go 'head) Oh, I love you more than anything (love you more than anything, anything) 'Cause I love you more than anything (oh yeah, oh, oh) Oh, I love you more than anything (more than any, more than anything) "I love when you call me about anything" While a man in a faded Creed t-shirt belts out Dolly Parton into the karaoke machine across the room, Betty is content to nurse her drink as her friends argue over the ideal role of action in the cinema or some other debate just as ridiculous to be having in the Whyte Wyrm. Meanwhile, a man is singing Dolly Parton into the machine across the room.
Betty discovers that she doesn't mind that this is how she will spend her Saturday night, despite the fact that the guy is singing off-key. She has recently begun venturing out into the community more often, having been coaxed out of her self-imposed isolation by the growth of her friendships and the increasing number of writing projects she has been given throughout town for the Register. Riverdale has been feeling more like an old pair of pants that only needs a few changes to fit and less like something she has completely outgrown throughout the last several episodes.
The mind-melting she's been getting with Jughead's help on a frequency certainly doesn't hurt, either.
The one from the night before was one of the most unforgettable. He'd wrapped his arm around her middle and pulled her upright, her back pressed flush against his chest. His mouth was hot on the back of her neck, his other hand moving down between her legs when –
"Betty, come down to earth." The sudden appearance of Jughead's hand in front of her face brings her out of her trance. "Are we boring you?"
Reggie doesn't appear to notice, as he is focused on a discussion with the guy who has just taken a seat on the opposite side of him and stated something that seems to be contentious about Vin Diesel's abs. The fact that he is showing the beginnings of a grin gives the impression that he is aware of what she is considering; if not the specifics, then at least the general idea. She thinks to herself, "Am I that obvious?"
She explains to him that she is "just thinking about what song I want to sing."
"I had no idea you were a singer."
"I don't. Unless Veronica is making me do it, I won't. Which really takes place a lot more often than you'd suppose."
Jughead has a chuckle. "Will she be coming to see us at any point? That is something I really want to see."
"Doubtful." After their only child graduated from high school, Veronica's parents likewise relocated back to New York City. Since then, Betty had not seen any member of the Lodge family in Riverdale, and she believed that none of the Lodges had returned. Any conversation about potential excursions to the east coast had been predicated on the idea that Betty and Veronica would eventually meet up in New York City.
Betty wrinkles her nose in sympathy as she takes a few drinks from her drink and allows her mind to wander back to the get-together she had with Jughead the night before. Her eyes dart toward the back of the bar as she continues to do what she's doing. The thing that attracts her sight is a filmy white object that is hanging from one corner of the shelf. She had always faintly remembered it as a limp dishrag, but now that she's looking closer, she sees it's a shed snakeskin hanging from one corner of a shelf.
She downs the last of her drink while stifling a shiver and goes for her handbag as she does so. "You know what? I just jogged my memory and realized I had a Tide pen." She makes an announcement to no one in particular, saying, "I'll be back." I love how you don't doubt anything,
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11/24/2022 02:03 PM
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Thanksgiving.
serpent juliet ♔ betty cooper Thanksgiving midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost. Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, Which in the very thought renews the fear. So bitter is it, death is little more; But of the good to treat, which there I found, Speak will I of the other things I saw there. I cannot well repeat how there I entered, So full was I of slumber at the moment In which I had abandoned the true way.
Here comes the lady. Oh, so light a foot Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint. A lover may bestride the gossamers That idles in the wanton summer air, 20And yet not fall. Too much honey is delicious, but it makes you sick to your stomach. Therefore, love each other in moderation. That is the key to long-lasting love. Too fast is as bad as too slow. These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow "Therefore, love each other in moderation." Betty's face is being whipped by the chilly wind as she pulls her scarf closer to her body and rests back against the vehicle as she waits for Jughead to come out of the rest stop shop with an expected hoard of food.
(He'd said, "I need this, Betts," ten minutes earlier when Betty came into the parking lot, and he'd said it in a way that sounded more like he was whining.)
Betty draws in a big breath, holds it for a while, and then exhales it, Pepper's voice now accompanied by the sweet honey of her new counselor, who she has been visiting at school. She has discovered through working with Dr. Glass that some of the triggers for her anxiety are easy to pinpoint, while others are more enigmatic and manifest themselves as fleeting, uncomfortable sensations in her chest at the most inopportune moments.
On the other hand, this time will be the latter: after almost four whole months apart, Betty and Jughead will return to Riverdale for the Thanksgiving holiday.
Some people may believe they postponed the inevitable by waiting until Wednesday night. Still, the fact is that Jughead's university library shift on Tuesday night was what ultimately doomed them. The night before, Betty packed her belongings into the vehicle's trunk and went across town to meet Jughead right after he got off the train. (His roommate and the majority of others living in the greater Boston metropolitan region had already left the city for the Thanksgiving holiday.) she folded her body into his arms while they attempted to sleep and enumerated concerns about their return to their house like they were counting sheep.
Betty breaks into a smile as she sees Jughead emerge from the convenience shop's smeared doors and speed across the lot toward her with a plastic bag dangling from his arm.
When he is within hearing distance, he will say, "Hey, you." "Why are you standing around here doing nothing?" You have a rather chilly appearance."
Betty shrugs but doesn't pause before turning around and getting into the driver's seat. "I believe that I am becoming more used to the cold."
Betty is often astounded by how careful he can be with various things. She is aware that she can be tougher and more abrasive than others, and she is always surprised by the fact that he is not only prepared to tolerate her but also seems to find her attractive. Jughead chuckles gleefully as he carefully closes the door to the passenger side of the vehicle behind him.
Jughead's joke is, "Your ideas could not be much louder."
Betty tightens the seatbelt over her chest and smiles warmly as she listens to the sound of Jughead tearing open a bag of chips.
Betty explains this while turning her back to the driver as she navigates the vehicle back into the road. "Just one hour till Riverdale," she continues.
It's more of a statement than a question, but Jughead replies, "You're anxious," as he stuffs a few of chips into his mouth before continuing.
Betty gives a shrug. "More than anything else, I guess I'm most anxious about seeing Alice. And I think just...Riverdale itself. Concerned that I'll revert to my old, undesirable behaviors."
Jughead shakes his head and reaches across the cup holder to grasp her hand as it hangs from the other side of the device.
He speaks it as if it were a promise, "You won't." "That won't happen if we have anything to say about it."
Betty gives a gentle grin, her spirits lifted by the touch of his hand. She responds with a "Thank you."
They finally come to a halt on the highway, where there is merely a line of jam-packed vehicles all headed in the same direction for their holiday travel.
Betty admits to Jughead as they hold hands, "I'm happy to have you a little more to myself for a few days," as she squeezes his hand.
He smiles. "Me too. We are at last free to simply...be." The fact that they only have a limited amount of time to spend together due to the constraints of college life is a reality, even though they see one other once or occasionally twice weekly.
In a positive manner, they have each been able to completely immerse themselves in the experiences that they are having at their respective colleges instead of depending on phone calls and messages to fill in the blanks. On the occasions when they are able to spend time together, they have already had several exciting and unforgettable experiences throughout the city's weekend hours.
The words "It's going to be alright, Betts" are said by Jughead in a soothing tone as Betty and Jughead go by the location in Riverdale, where Betty had first seen FP's vehicle a little more than a year previously.
"I know," she mutters between clenched teeth, even though she is confident that she has not managed to persuade Jughead in the least.
The strategy is straightforward. (Betts believes that having a plan to adhere to at all times makes her life more straightforward.) The first thing that will happen is that Betty and Jughead will go to FP's trailer to say hello, despite the fact that Jughead intends to sleep in Betty's room if he can get away with it. After that, she will compete against Alice Cooper.
When they are finally able to draw up to the trailer, Betty is startled to discover how hard she has been holding onto the steering wheel. She mumbles, "Sorry," while clenching her teeth slightly.
(This is a tendency that her therapist advises she should strive to change; she apologizes much too frequently, which is an unpleasant effect of the fact that she was raised by a lady who was as strict and repressive as the Alice Cooper of Betty's adolescence.)
Jughead gives Betty a soothing grin and a calming tone as he tells her, "Don't be sorry." This causes Betty's tummy to relax. Betty's stomach drops with a feeling that she wasn't sure she'd be able to feel about a place she'd spent so many years trying to flee. This is a feeling that she associates with being at home, and she hadn't been sure she'd be able to feel it until she felt the familiarity of the gravel beneath her feet. As she turns off the engine and follows Jughead out of the vehicle, she lets out a long sigh and takes a big breath.
"Feels different, doesn't it?" Betty is jolted out of her meditative state by Jughead's statement.
Being back here after being gone for a few months? Betty asks as she looks up to see Jughead already making his way toward the front entrance, extracting his keychain from the loop on his belt.
"Yes...and no," Jughead says to her as he turns to give her a reassuring grin.Betty gives him a frowning look as she follows him up the stairs and watches him fidget with the door handle.
This habit they have found themselves in has been so ingrained in their lives that he mutters, "Finicky, as usual," while she chuckles. These violent delights have violent ends,
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11/23/2022 02:46 PM
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A little unsteady.
serpent juliet ♔ betty cooper A little unsteady Hold, hold on, hold onto me 'Cause I'm a little unsteady A little unsteady Hold, hold on, hold onto me 'Cause I'm a little unsteady A little unsteady
Mama, come here Approach, appear And Daddy, I'm alone 'Cause this house don't feel like home If you love me, don't let go (hold) Whoa, if you love me, don't let go (hold) "Hold, hold on, hold onto me" Lazy Betty and Jug were making it a point to spend every Sunday afternoon with FP, which became something of a ritual for them. They would have an early supper and easily pass several hours chatting with him to keep the older Jones man company. Naturally, she always volunteered to bring something to contribute. Still, he always informed her that she didn't need to bring anything except herself, along with a coy comment about how he preferred her company to that of his own son. She had grown to like the routine, which sometimes coincided with a bigger party at her own mother's house, where FP was always welcome to join. Other times, the trailer, which she'd grown to know well from sneaking around with Jughead when she was younger, was a more relaxing way to end the weekend. However, this situation was different since they were making preparations for Thanksgiving. Alice and Polly came up with a plan for something they could do with the twins. She could have gone, but she decided against it since it would have required her to spend a lot of time in the car. At that point, it seemed like a more sensible plan to spend some time with Jones. The mere shedding of his jacket that was draped over the back of the sofa and a flex of his bicep from beneath the sleeve of his shirt caused Betty to run her tongue over her lips with a hunger that had nothing to do with the preparation of the holiday food that was going around for Thanksgiving tomorrow. It was this nostalgia that had fueled her less-than-polite behavior.
It was never difficult for him to read her because she had always been anything but subtle in the way that she craved him. Upon their reconnection, it appeared that it was impossible to satisfy her physical desire for him almost all of the time, and this made it appear as though it was impossible for him to satisfy her desire for him. When there was a knock at the front door, allowing them time alone away from FP's watchful gaze, it was as if they had been transported back in time to heatedly, greedily fumbling for each other in his childhood bedroom, no less. There didn't appear to be any complaints coming from either side, but when there was a knock at the front door, allowing them time alone without FP's watchful gaze, there was a knock. Her skin began to flame hot as she took hold of his hand. She bit her bottom lip playfully as she almost pulled him down the familiar corridor and into the room that seemed like it was a relic ripped out of a time capsule in their past together.
When she and he spent the night in bed together, none of their parents had been the wiser; if their parents had been aware, they had feigned not to tell. The playful and exploratory makeout sessions, the giggles and uncertain touches that had led them to where they were now as he pinned her against the wall, hand at her hip, holding her against him with just the right amount of pressure as his lips traveled up the length of her neck were what had led them to where they were now. Sighing audibly as he took the chance to trace his fingers up along the underside of her thighs only drove her need for him as she wriggled underneath his touch. Her breath came out stuttering and heaving, keeping in sync with his as the heat increased between them instead.
Betty's body was always on fire, and she had an insatiable need for more stimulation; each experience set her skin ablaze. As she abruptly turned around while still being held by him, her fingers snaked down around his and gave him a loving squeeze. He continued to push his palm on the protrusion of her hip bones even though she was facing him with her back. She flipped her hair over her shoulder with the free hand she had, looking back at him over her other shoulder with a seductively coy expression as she pressed her lips together in a thinly veiled smirk. This was all the invitation he needed to graze his lips against the exposed skin of her neck. She glared back at him with a sultry coy expression as she pressed her lips together in a thinly veiled smirk. Because of the sound produced as he dragged his fangs down the hollow of her neck, which was something between a growl and a gasp, she pressed both of her hands on the poster hanging on the wall.
She didn't even hear the sound of the front door opening until Jughead grabbed her around the middle and held her close to him to protect her. This startled her into paying attention as her eyes slowly slid open, and her head swung back from the rapid action. Betty's eyes, which were still cloudy, widened in absolute dread as she peered back at him over her shoulder as she attempted to maintain control of her breathing. Both of them stopped in place instantaneously. "Are you kidding me? I was under the impression that he would be responsible for providing the turkey. He couldn't even hold out for another five minutes?!" 'Cause I'm a little unsteady,
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11/21/2022 01:34 PM
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Maroon.
serpent juliet ♔ betty cooper Maroon When the morning came, we were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf because we lost track of time again, Laughing with my feet in your lap Like you were my closest friend; how'd we end up on the floor anyway? You say, "Your roommate's cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that's how" I see you every day now.
And I chose you, The one I was dancin' with In New York, no shoes. I looked up at the sky, and it was The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet; it was The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones. "And I chose you." Someone from the FBI makes contact with her, and they identify themselves. Someone by the name of Glen Scot is not a name that she is acquainted with, but she deduces from his tone (which is far too familiar to her) that she should be. His style is too self-important for his position, and he seems to have too much familiarity with her.
Betty assumed she had been throwing herself at the mercy of the cosmos over the last few days. Accept things for what they are rather than continuing to wonder why some aspects of life are the way they are. At least, that is how she approaches things whenever the FBI gets in touch with her.
When she asks who that is and internally questions why that name fills her with a fear she's rarely experienced, Glen's voice changes to arrogant, as if she's being impossible, and he says he'll send her the case files. He uses a tone that is probably gentle for him and tells her that TBK is back on the map. He does this in a manner that is perhaps gentle for him.
He terminates the call before she can ask any more inquiries.
Betty is attempting to breathe as she continues to sit, the phone still in her grasp, even though the connection is dead. She finds that her hands are strangely curling in on themselves, and she can feel the pressure of her short nails pressing into the flesh of her palms.
Her breathing is still short; she is choking gasps, and she has no idea why this is happening. She isn't even acquainted with the word but hearing it causes her to experience a sensation similar to her heart sinking into her stomach, and she chills in response to the icy terror filling her within.
TBK, TBK, and TBK again.
The case files provide a lot of information. Very detailed. The Killer of the Garbage Bags. Because he usually dismembers his victims and puts their body parts in garbage bags, he earned this name because of his behavior.
Everything is terrible, every event is horrible and horrifying, yet this is... unique. Betty had gone through many case files involving various victims and offenses. Because of this, she feels a tightening in her stomach and a trembling all over her body.
It takes Jughead roughly four seconds to register what has happened. She reassured him that she was alright and that she was only feeling terrible for the victims but that she would be well.
They stay up till four in the morning doing research and plotting, and all the while, Betty can feel herself becoming more constricted, but she has no idea why this is happening.
Her chest tightens to the point that she can feel her heart pounding throughout her whole body, and she finds herself breathing in short, shallow breaths.
"Betty," Jughead whispers, but Betty is gone; she has been transported out of her body and into a small hole. Her fingers are bloody from trying to escape the spot, and she is sweating profusely. She is so hungry that she will pass out soon and terrified that she wishes she could die here.
"Nooooo," she groans repeatedly.
He guides her to the little bed, and she doesn't fight much since she's honestly not sure she could even recall her name.
She can catch fleeting glimpses of Jughead's eyes on hers, a flash of blue now and then, but the world is filled with this terrible, cold horror, and she can't get out. She hears her name faintly, as if through a fog. She can catch fleeting glances of Jughead's eyes on hers.
The pressure that is being applied to her chest and tummy is what clears up the confusion. It is comforting and sturdy, and although it does not restrict her movement, it does hold her firmly. She can feel someone's heart beating against her back when the fog lifts a little further.
Then she heard the voice trying to comfort her.
The voice is the single most helpful component.
"It's alright," it says. "I'm here; don't worry about it. We'll work out a solution to this."
And, very surprisingly, she believes him.
The fog is beginning to lift ever so gradually as time goes on. Her heartbeat gradually slows down, and she starts to establish a pattern in her breathing.
She has no idea how long it lasts, but when it is done, she is sitting in Jughead's arms with his hands running through her hair and her face resting on top of his chest where his heart is beating.
He has a courageous spirit. It's not a dream; it's something she can hold onto and feel relieved by when the panic episode subsides. The one I was dancin' with In New York, no shoes,
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11/17/2022 11:46 PM
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Sweet Nothing Part 3.
serpent juliet ♔ betty cooper Sweet Nothing Part 3. I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes? Ooh...
Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your Sweet nothings Outside they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was Sweet nothing "To you I can admit." She just nodded as she took another hesitant sip from the glass she held in her trembling hands on her lap. It was the only thing she could think of to say or the only thing she thought was necessary. She slowly coiled and uncurled her fingers over the glass as he talked. She clung to his words as he served as a reminder that she had fled and was no longer being kept against her will, and it was one of the most crucial things to grasp onto when everything else seemed so overwhelming.
'You're still you.'
Betty thought about what he said, but she didn't fully believe what he said. Still, she felt a softness in her chest that told her he believed what he said and was fighting for her when she didn't feel strong enough to do it herself. When he came to lie next to her, unlike in the past, she found herself wanting the security of his proximity once again. She automatically leaned into him as her knee rested against his, and she craved the comfort of his proximity. She could feel his eyes on her, but she kept her concentration fixed on his hands, which were spread out over his thighs. This gave her someplace else to direct her attention, making it seem less unsettling and exposed to his gaze. When he said he didn't care what their plan had been, there was a familiar flare of spirited defensiveness ready to fight back. He implied that it somehow trivialized what she'd gone through if it was all for nothing. However, he continued until he posed the obvious question to her, to which he certainly already knew the answer.
She finally looked up, her eyes searching, and a ghostly smile tugged lightly at the corners of her lips as she remembered the path of memories with him intertwined in photos throughout her life with the grin of her best friend, the redheaded buddy. "A while," she acknowledged, feeling his typical sarcasm coating her words, but the familiarity of the sense of humor shared between them was one of the few everyday things she'd had in days.
The single giggle broke the stillness and loosened the tightness of her muscles as she finally relaxed against him again. An involuntary scoff of amusement occurred as a result of the situation. Neither of them could hide the fact that they could be stubborn. It was not a secret to either of them exactly how obstinate they could be; yet, she did not see her own stubbornness as necessarily a strength until now, when he framed it for her. She followed the movement of his hand as it made its way to her wrist, and as she did so, she became much less concerned about the glass that she was still holding. Instead, she let go of one of her hands and grabbed hold of his hand in order to pull his arm back around her, after which she nested herself against his chest and closed her eyes. She conceded as she concentrated on hearing his heartbeat with her head pressed against his chest, "Maybe that's true, but you help quiet down all the noise." Her voice was gentle and no longer torn with the passion and sense of defeat that she had previously felt. That I'm just too soft for all of it,
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11/16/2022 02:17 PM
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Dear Reader.
serpent juliet ♔ betty cooper Dear Reader. Spilling out to you for free But darling, darling, please You wouldn't take my word for it If you knew who was talking If you knew where I was walking
You should find another guiding light Guiding light But I shine so bright You should find another guiding light Guiding light But I shine so bright... "Dear reader" She would have been satisfied with how he squeezed her shoulders and how his fingers twisted into her hair at the nape of her neck as he always seemed to do. At the same time, his thoughts were otherwise occupied, but then he spoke, and Betty let out a defeated sigh at the words that were not surprising in any way. Betty rotated her neck, which caused her muscles to crane, which allowed her to tilt her head away from him without blatantly pulling away abruptly from him. This was a hallmark Betty Cooper avoidance method that she had been practicing ever since they were kids. Yet, despite knowing he was right and that the other was always correct when they gently poked and pushed one another to chat when they were at their least communicative, she found herself obstinate with him and with herself.
Jughead coerced her into giving him her hand as he sought to elevate her chin, refocusing her attention and eye contact on him after he had been looking at the headboard of their bed while she turned her back on him. Her shoulders rose into the beginning of a shrug. They remained frozen in that stiff position for a considerable amount of time until they sank back down into their regular positions, and Jughead took his seat beside her. "Jug, I don't even know what it is that I'm supposed to tell you." She turned to him with a pained expression, the torture she was putting herself through trying to grapple with the thoughts and emotions she couldn't put into words for him evident in her expression as she shook her head, a frustrated hand slapping down against her knee as she turned to him with a pained expression.
Betty's words never came out quite as fast as they did for him, and it was times like this that she found that defect within herself to be quite aggravating, despite the fact that his tolerance for her had no boundaries. "We're both running on no sleep, and all these -pregnancy hormones are doing my brain in, and I wouldn't have it any other way, but-" She interrupted herself by gesticulating with her hands as she was talking. "Does it seem to you that I'm going a little bit crazy over here?" She risked a peek to the side, almost as if she were checking to see whether he was gazing at her as well now that she had finally snapped as she had anticipated.
"Ugh. I have no idea what the problem is with me." She let out a moan as she sank back into the bed and began to rub her eyes with her palms since they were so sleepy. "I was feeling one way with Alana in the nursery, but when you mentioned another kid, I started freaking out, and then it developed into all of this," she added. "What if we are unable to take care of three children?" She gesticulated with her hands in the direction of the whole of her body. Bend when you can Snap when you have to,
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11/15/2022 11:58 PM
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Sweet Nothing Part 2.
serpent juliet ♔ betty cooper Sweet Nothing Part 2. I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes? Ooh...
Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your Sweet nothings Outside they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was Sweet nothing "To you I can admit." He had her hands splayed out in front of him as if they were the ultimate shrine of dignity. The tips of his fingers stroked over the familiar crescent-shaped lines on her flesh as if he could pull them away from her skin and somehow ruin his own in her place. Betty winced even as he curled her palms inside and took them into his own hands because the indentations left by the intense exchange were still flaming red around the edges. Not because she was in physical agony but because of the natural recoil she had from the shame of her acts as he embraced her and forgave her at a time when she was unable to do either of those things for herself. Betty's eyes followed the slow and measured motions of his hands with full awareness of his anxious gaze on her, patient as ever despite his own mounting sentiments of failure and inadequacy festering inside. Betty knew that he was looking at her with apprehension.
As he continued to speak, she eventually let out a little sigh and slowly began to bob her head in agreement with the honesty and sincerity of his remarks. There was nothing that seemed to get under her skin more than when her intransigence met head-to-head with his own, and it was a duel unequaled by any other for any other reason but because of how profoundly they loved. Passion was evident in every facet of their relationship, and sadly, the same fire remained when it came to their disagreements as well. This was an awful reality. Betty's eyes moved slowly up the length of his figure as she became aware of the manner in which he positioned himself firmly between her and the door through which she had attempted to flee. There were occasions when she should have removed herself from the circumstance, given herself some space, or run away, but this was not one of those times. Her eyes eventually settled on his, and in spite of the embarrassment she felt about herself, she began to feel more at ease as the connection she felt after seeing him again began to calm her down.
Betty often found herself becoming lost in the white noise when he wasn't there to attach her to anything and reel her back. The noise was stripped away as the hot exchange of words and harsh tones died. When she realized that her love for him had reacted to his call with the reality of his allegation, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. Betty was as madly and irrationally in love with him as she had ever been, and this love pushed both of them to the edge of such extremes as she had been forced to watch him destroy himself right in front of her own eyes. Betty knew that every aspect of his self-loathing and poor treatment was kept inside and left to her imagination. She could only guess how hard he was on himself with no actual proof other than the varying degrees of the crease in his brow, the way his eye line refused to meet her, and the overwhelming defeat in his tone of voice. While hers so often reared its ugly head and manifested into the telltale physical symptoms such as the marks on her hands, Betty knew that every aspect of his.
"I do love you... So much." She shook her head, sensing the inadequacy of words that she often felt while attempting to proclaim her love to him in these personal times. Before she could find the words, it was his turn, and there was exasperation in his tone as he spoke her name. Betty maintained eye contact with him while simultaneously drawing the sleeves of her nightshirt down over her hands, balling the fabric into her fists, and holding her hands down by her sides as if the temperature in the room had unexpectedly fallen by ten degrees. At the same time, his hands released their hold on hers, and she felt a sudden chill from the abrupt disconnect of the physical contact that she craved desperately in her most insecure moments.
"You're quite correct, Jug, and I recognize you. Because I know you so well—in fact, I know you better than I sometimes believe I know myself—I am unable to sit by and do nothing while you bring yourself to ruin as a result of this situation. I've seen it before, and I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would never allow it to happen again." Her eyes did not leave his for a moment, and they were blazing with passion the whole while.
She drew a long breath in and focused her attention on the task at hand, restraining herself from increasing the volume of her voice. "I will go to hell and back with you as many times as it takes because that's part of the deal," she said. "I will do whatever it takes. You can't expect to shove me aside and then expect me to leave you alone while you self-destruct because I love you, and I'm in this with you no matter what happens. I can't." That I'm just too soft for all of it,
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11/13/2022 01:16 PM
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Sweet Nothing.
serpent juliet ♔ betty cooper Sweet Nothing. I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes? Ooh...
Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your Sweet nothings Outside they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was Sweet nothing "To you I can admit." Betty recognized the telltale signs of his anger, which included the way his gaze flashed and locked onto hers, the flare of his nostrils, and the way he pushed himself away from the foot of the bed as he propelled himself away from her and toward the opposite side of the room to provide them with safe distance apart. His anger was sparked by the rise in her, and Betty knew the telltale signs because of the way his gaze flashed and locked onto hers. Betty's mixture of annoyance and fury began to accelerate, rising up to reach the threshold of his as she rose from the bed and followed him to the open area in their room. Betty's own frustration and wrath were meeting his at this point. It was not in her nature to be able to let things lie so quickly and so frequently to her own detriment, as was the case now as she sought to push him further when every part of his body language was screaming for her to leave him alone. This was a situation in which she was acting against her nature because she was acting in a manner that was to her own detriment.
"Don't act in this manner." Even if it hadn't begun as an insult to one another, a noticeable change occurred via her actions that informed of a different tale. Her words were authoritative once more, and she came to cross her arms defensively over her chest. Betty was caught in the crossfire, and while she had first sought to bring him back away from the fires of self-loathing and mistaken wrath, she now seemed to be pouring herself into the fire. His rage had been channeled inward in the manner that he always excelled at self-destruction. "You have no right to use me to feel even more guilty about this situation since it is inaccurate. Jughead, you have not disappointed me in any way or fallen short of meeting my expectations. , and the only person who can criticize your effort is you." It was almost as if she were speaking to one of their kids when the protectiveness that had been building up inside of her began to dissipate and be replaced by an uncanny tranquility in her remarks. Even if she didn't want to be condescending in the midst of his most significant moment of vulnerability, there was a good chance that he was going to interpret anything she said to him as being condescending. She was prepared to put herself in harm's way in order to take the risk she had identified.
Betty recognized the manner in which his hand went to his lips, which was a hallmark action he'd perfected long ago to mask his expression and which she'd picked up on during the early years of their relationship when he had bottled up so much of his rage and sentiments in general. She saw that her fingers were curling inward into her palms as her arms fell to her sides, and that her shoulders were tensing up due to the blunt force exerted via balled-up fists. She also became aware that she was falling back into old, unhealthy patterns. He said that she didn't understand, that she couldn't possibly comprehend where he was coming from and why, at the core of it all, he was so unhappy, but that she would be damned if she didn't attempt to understand where he was coming from and why he was so upset. It was a glaring difference in the way that they were built as people, her inability to understand the attachment to his artistry in the same way that he frequently failed to understand her wide range of emotional overreactions to things. Both of these things contributed to their inability to understand each other. There was no space for the anger that had grown between them and was now functioning as a barrier keeping them away. On most days, they bridged those differences together with patience and understanding, but there was no room for it today.
"I suppose I'll simply leave you to your existential dilemma. You have made it quite plain that I cannot comprehend, and I am powerless to help..." Betty had been aware of the boundary and had flagrantly broken it without any care for the consequences; she was aware of this the moment that the words had left her lips. She let go of her hands, and blood began to return to her fingertips as she did. At the same time, she felt herself sighing in defeat. She displayed her exasperation by throwing her hands in the air. That I'm just too soft for all of it,
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11/10/2022 11:16 PM
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It's me, hi, I'm the problem,
serpent juliet ♔ betty cooper It's me, hi, I'm the problem, I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser Midnights become my afternoons When my depression works the graveyard shift All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room
I should not be left to my own devices They come with prices and vices I end up in crisis (I've realized all this time) I wake up screaming from dreaming One day I'll watch as you're leaving 'Cause you got tired of my scheming For the last time "I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror," She cannot look at him, so she paces for a few seconds. "Good to hear, Jones. Do you want to proceed here? Then, I have some scrumptious morsels to share with you. Because nobody really wants to speak to the girl who sits in the back all day and tears all night, and that's all I was for the first few years, my instructors hardly recognized who I was, much less my classmates."
It succeeds due to the fact that he seems surprised by it. Before he returns the volley, he gives a fleeting expression of surprise. " I began drinking when I was a freshman out of a water bottle when I was in my room by myself."
It is similar to the back-and-forth action of a game of tennis. She added, "I didn't make a real friend until I was in my fourth year, and even then, we just spent time together at a bar." Jughead remarked that his housemates didn't even know his name during his first year of college.
"It was during those two years that I earned the nickname "That Sad Blonde Girl" due to the amount of sobbing I did. Because I sobbed so much, they referred to me as "Longing," and that was really what they called me."
It leads the discussion into a new region that causes her heart to race, and she is unsure what the significance of this is supposed to be.
"Anyone else would have gone a long time ago if they had been subjected to the number of times that I disregarded Jess or, even worse, called her the incorrect name. I'm shocked that she lasted as long as she did."
There has been a change, a discernible shift that she is aware the two of them are experiencing. They had a tight relationship earlier. They are now quite close to one another, although in different ways. Their hands are resting at their sides, and they are just a hair's breadth apart from one another.
Remembrance.
Now, her voice is just above a whisper, and there is none of the rages that were audible only a few seconds earlier.
"I still have your jacket. After it stopped having your scent, I began acting as though you were still here, even though you weren't. It was the only kind of pretending that I would let myself engage in."
Now when his nose is so close to touching hers, the air seems to be electrified and on fire.
"I wrote down the events of our love story because I didn't want to forget even a single moment, not that I would have been able to even if I had tried."
Want.
"The book...I never got around to reading it. I made the purchase myself. It remained on the coffee table in my living room for a period of two years because I couldn't bear it...I couldn't see us any other way. Even after we were done together, we remained the one thing that I clung to.
Truth.
"Betty Cooper, there were other females, but there was never anybody else but you. Never. It's all on you. It will never be anybody else but you."
Love.
"You told me earlier when we were participating in Riot Night, then...on that day. Do you really intend it now? " He doesn't hesitate. "I still love you, Betty. I will never stop loving you."
They don't make any more comments after that. It must be exhausting, always rooting for the anti-hero,
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