they all miss her

King’s Crown Bar

Smutty smut smut about older Bughead living in New York. AU. Possible multi-part. Smut. SMUT. You’ve been warned.



Betty Cooper smoothed her skirt over her thighs as she opened the heavy door to the dark bar.

It was her second week in New York City -  she had spent every waking moment in her office. She wanted to come straight to New York after she graduated high school, but her mother insisted she went to North Western, as they had one of the best Journalism programs in the country. She spent all her time studying and missed out on building relationships with people.

It was her first night of freedom, and there was only one thing on her mind.

It was cool outside, so Betty had thrown her worn leather jacket over her outfit. Once she was inside, a wave of humidity overwhelmed her. She shrugged her jacket off, revealing a deep v-neck top, red as blood, as she strode to the stools lining the bar.

She chose one, second from the end, and eyed the man behind the counter. He had black jeans on and a t-shirt sporting the name of a band she’d never heard of. He put a well worn book down behind him as he strode over to her.

“What can I get you?” He asked her, brushing his hair back from his face.

“A cosmopolitan, please.” Betty answered, hooking her jacket over the back of the stool. She crossed her long legs as the bartender chuckled to himself.

She raised an eyebrow.

He shook his head as he poured her drink and set it before her in a whisky glass. “The dish washer quit yesterday. No clean martini glasses.” He quipped as he wandered away.

“This is fine.“ Betty said, pulling the coaster closer to her. She took a sip of her drink and eyed the bartender again. He was at the opposite end of the bar, pouring a tequila shot for an older woman in a jean jacket.

Betty unlocked the screen on her cellphone when it buzzed against her thigh. After a moment, an audible sigh escaped her mouth as she put her phone face-down against the counter. She downed half her drink as the bar tender came back to her side of the bar.

“Get stood up?” He asked gruffly.

“Sort of. Not that it’s any of your business, but my roommate was supposed to meet me, She’s decided to stay in with her girlfriend.”

“You want another drink?”

Betty bit the inside of her cheek. Really, she should just go home. But fuck it. She was here now. “Sure.”

“You new in town?” He asked as he made her concoction.

“Yeah,” Betty answered as he set the drink down in front of her. “I went to school in Illinois, continued living there for a few years after school ended. I wanted to come to New York for college, but - well, not important. I’m here now. Out of Riverdale. That’s all that matters.”

Jughead stared at her for a moment before opening his mouth. “Riverdale, New York?”

Betty nodded. “I’m surprised you’ve heard of it.”

“Heard of it? I lived there until I was seven. Then I moved to Toldeo.”

“Small world.” Betty took the cherry out of her drink and popped it into her mouth, her plump lips parting around the stem. She looked Jughead in the eye.

He held her gaze, a smirk forming on his lips until a large man a few stools down cleared his throat. “Yo, Jug, another beer.”

Jughead wandered toward the  man, pulling a beer from the fridge under the bar.

Betty took a sip of her cosmopolitan as a balding man with a tattoo on his head sat down beside her.

“Evenin’“ He commented, looking her up and down. “How much?”

Betty turned her head slowly. “Excuse me?”

“How much? Just for like, twenty minutes.”

Betty closed her eyes for a moment, trying to compose herself. Calmly, she got off the stool and grabbed her jacket. She picked up her half-full glass and splashed it in the strangers face.

She started to walk to the other end of the bar when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. “You fuckin’ bitch, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Betty spun around, shoving the balding man’s chest. “Get the fuck off me,” She spat.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Jughead yelled from behind the bar.

Betty held her jacket in her hands tightly. “Nothing.” She stated.

“This whore just threw her drink in my face!” He grabbed Betty by the shoulder again.

“I said get off me,” Betty muttered. There was venom in her voice.

“Larry, get the fuck out of here!” Jughead said, hopping over the bar. The balding man muttered something and headed out the door.

“Alright, we’re closing early, everyone get out.” Jughead said loudly.

Betty shrugged her leather jacket over her shoulders.

“Not you,” Jughead murmured as people cleared out of the bar.

“Won’t the owner be mad at you for closing early?” Betty asked.

“I am the owner.” Jughead answered as he followed the last person to the door and flipped the lock. He shut off all the lights but the one over the bar.

Betty took a seat at the bar and sighed.

“You want another drink?” He walked behind the bar.

“Oh, no, thanks. I’ll just pay and go.”

“No, you need to calm your nerves before you go anywhere.”

Betty didn’t argue. Jughead sat a glass of water down in front of her.

“You know, I only came out tonight because my roommate convinced me bars are a great place to meet guys. And the only one I met thought I was a prostitute.”

Jughead chuckled. “Bars are only a great place to meet guys if you’re looking for a one night stand.”

Betty grabbed a cherry from behind the bar. She popped it into her mouth. “Who says I’m not?”

Jughead cocked his eyebrow.

Betty took the cherry’s stem and put it in her mouth, needing only a moment before she placed the knotted stem back on the bar. She hopped off the stool and wandered behind the bar.

She was close enough to feel his body heat. She shrugged off her jacket once more and let it drop to her feet.

“I’m not looking for anything other than tonight,” Betty murmured.

Jughead didn’t respond with words - he cupped her cheek and roughly pulled her against him. His mouth covered hers, his hands wandered down to her hips, gripping. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue inside.

She leaned back, pulling her shirt over her head. He trailed kisses down her neck, sucking and nipping at her collarbone. He reached behind her and unclasped her bra. It fell between them as he ducked down, pulling her peaked nipple into his mouth.

She reached under her skirt and pulled her panties off, kicking them away from her feet.

Jughead let a throaty growl escape his lips as he picked Betty up and placed her on top of the bar. “Fuck,” He murmured.

He kissed her roughly, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth. His hands wandered beneath her skirt, finding her entrance.

“You’re so wet,” He murmured quietly as he placed a finger inside her.

Betty looked at him through hooded eyes. She bit her lip as he placed another finger inside her.

“Jughead,” She murmured.

He rubbed her swollen clit as she reached for his jeans. “Take those off.” She ordered.

He did, kicking them off behind him. He placed two fingers against Betty’s lips. She opened her mouth, sucking his fingers, twirling her tongue against them.

He moaned, rubbing his slick fingers against Betty’s entrance. She leaned back against the bar, running a hand down her center.

Jughead looked her up and down, his eyes landing on a tattoo partially covered by her skirt.

“Is that cake?” Jughead asked, still eyeing her tattoo.

“Ch-chocolate cake slice.” Her breath caught in her throat. “But you can use it for target practice when we’re done.”

Jughead licked from her tattoo to her nipple, sucking and biting before moving to her neck.

“Fuck me,” She murmured, leaning forward to wrap her arms around Jughead’s neck. She reached inside his boxers, pumping.

Jughead spread Betty’s legs, taking himself out of his boxers. He held his erection, brushing it against Betty’s slick folds. He pushed himself inside her slowly as she wrapped her legs around him, allowing him deeper still.

“Fuck,” They murmured in unison.

He thrust against her, using his fingers to rub at her clit.

“Harder,” She moaned.

He fucked her roughly, biting at her neck.

She moaned, throwing her head back, tightening the lock on her legs.

He moved his hand to her neck, his fingers gripping, his thumb between her lips.

Betty licked and bit at his thumb until he moved it back down between her thighs.

“Fuck me like you hate me.”

Jughead arched an eyebrow at her.

“You heard me,” She murmured.

Jughead pulled her off the bar, bending her over in front of him. He reached his arm around her waist, holding her against him. He pounded into her over and over until she was screaming his name.

He continued to thrust into her, rubbing at her clit, until her knees were weak.

“Jughead,” She murmured as she reached her second high.

He had a fist full of her hair as she came again, her eyes closed. He waited until she opened them again.

“Turn around,” He instructed. He used her tattoo, as she suggested.

He pulled his jeans on as she wiped her tattoo clean. She found the pieces of her clothing, dressing herself quickly.

“Same time next week?” She cocked her eyebrow.

He smirked. “You know where to find me.”

Sadness Overwhelmed

She sat watching but not seeing the events in front of her. The Dwarves spoke and if not for her recorder she would have missed it all. She’d moved about mechanically, not really speaking to anyone. Snapping pictures to keep her hands occupied. The sounds of the duels had her looking up and realizing she was late for another event. She’d made her way toward Bath and slipped her a note asking a favor before excusing herself. Once on the gryphon, Risri just tuned out. It was the Flight Master speaking to her that had her come to once more.

 The fighting happened around her. Once again she took pictures mechanically, not saying a word to anyone. When it was over, she moved quietly away shifting and heading to the gravestone. She shifted once more and stood there staring at the name upon the stone. Wishing it had all been a bad dream. Wishing he was sitting there upon it waiting for her like so many times before.

Even the growing friendship with Rakshi had not dulled the pain. She moved around to face the lake, her hand running along the top of the stone before she sank into the grass with a sigh. The silence of the graveyard broken only by her breathing for several moments. She leaned back against the tombstone and her head looked up at the sky.

She spoke quietly in Darnassian, “Why does it hurt so much? Why did I let you crawl so far into my soul? Why, when I knew better? When the one before you died, I closed off my heart. I could not bear this pain again,I told myself. And yet, I let you in. Knowing you would go before me, I still took the chance. I let you in. Just as much as you let me in.” She wiped at her face and looked out to the lake shaking with pent up anger and sadness. “I just want you. I want you back. I want you teasing me and loving me. I ache because you aren’t here. I just want it to stop.” She curled into a ball, her back against the stone, her head against her knees. Quiet sobs escaping.

4

Proud dads

8

Who is it that Bbong Ssuni is saving?
A prince that lives alone in a castle.

2

time to dance // panic! at the disco

I miss the girl I used to be; like her eyes that spoke of innocence and her mind that was full of wonder.But of all things , I miss her heart the most. The heart that loved ferociously without a hint of fear.A heart that loved so greatly the universe could burst in tears. How pure and unblemished. For she was a girl who has never been hurt. Carrying a heart that was pure love to the fullest sense. How I wish I could love that way again.
—  Innocence // Conee Berdera
what's a fire and how does it - what's the word? - burn

so i have this disney playlist i listen to usually when i’m driving and i was blasting poor unfortunate souls this morning and i was thinking

what if ariel didn’t sign the scroll?

because she’s about to, okay, and she looks at the paper. the parchment made of seaweed, the ones that’s specially treated to survive underwater. and she thinks of her cave of treasures, her books that remain perfectly preserved underwater. “no thank you,” she says slowly, becoming keenly aware of air of this place, of the not-people she’d seen who hadn’t been able to pay the price for sea witch’s bargain. “i – no. thank you. but no.”

ursula tries to convince her otherwise, but ariel runs. she goes back to her cave, destroyed as it was by her father’s anger, and thinks.

she’s the daughter of triton. her books never got wet, though she lives in the ocean. she feels a pull inside her, to the land, to somewhere else, but what if – what if –

what if she doesn’t need the sea witch or her father to perform magic for her? what if she has her own?

ursula had wanted her voice because that’s how she performed her magic. singing in this cave had given it powers and protection, and when she saved her prince from the sea – she sang then too, to keep him safe, to guide him back to life and away from death.

so she has magic. she only needs to figure out how to use it.

so that’s what ariel does now. she’s quiet and keeps to herself, and her father and sisters think that it’s because she’s upset with her father, that she’s busy licking her wounds. she’s moved on from that. she has no trident, and is uninterested with fueling her magic with the souls of the damned like ursula has. so she needs to figure something else out.

she does what she’s not supposed to do, and goes where she’s not supposed to go, slipping past the guards and patrols to the one place in the sea that is forbidden to all of them.

the crevice in the earth where what remains of her grandmother lives.

ariel goes to amphitrite, and the sea goddess is so much bigger than ariel, the size of great whale as she curls at the bottom of the sea floor, too old and too tired to do anything more than sleep. “granddaughter,” the great being croaks, opening an eye as blue and as unfathomable as the sea, “you look like me.”

“they say i look like my mother,” she says, and to herself adds: that’s why father can barely stand to look at me.

“you have more of me in you than your mother,” she says, and she shifts and pulls her mass of red hair over her shoulder. “more of me in you than your father does, even.”

“i have magic,” she says, pulling her bravery to the fore as she swims closer to her grandmother, “i want you to teach me how to use it.” amphitrite pushes herself up, and it’s the first time she’s moved in a millennia, and ariel notices for the first time that her grandmother isn’t a mermaid – she has legs.

she has legs.

“you have power,” amphitrite corrects fiercely, “and i will teach you to wield it.”

and so she does. ariel spends her nights by her grandmother, learning to harness the power of the sea that runs in her veins, and sleeps her days away while her sisters and flounder and sebastian grow more and more concerned, but she refuses to tell them why. she refuses to be stopped.

but her heart still aches. she fell in love with her prince, and she wants him still. so she swims to the edge, goes to the beach where his castle resides in the dead of night when her lessons with her grandmother are complete, and sings

. she’s careful not to let any magic leak through, only her voice. she does not want to enchant him. she wants him to love her as she is. so she sings, her voice clear and powerful and cutting through the air. she hopes he can hear it.

then one day a figure walks to the beach, and it’s him, her prince. “hello?” he calls out, “are you out there? are you – please, it was you that saved me, wasn’t it? won’t you come out and let me see you?”

so she does, waves her tail at him until he catches sight of her and takes hesitant, disbelieving steps closer.

“you’re a mermaid,” he says, eyes wide, “i thought i saw – but it couldn’t be.”

“i am, and it can,” she says, heart beating wildly in her chest. he’s just as handsome as she remembered, and she wants him just as much. “my name is ariel.”

“ariel,” he repeats, and pulls off his boots and goes wading into the water, watching her to see if she flinches away from him. she doesn’t, and his strides grow bolder. “my name is eric.”

“eric,” she whispers, and when he’s close enough he touches her, trailing fingers across the bare skin of her shoulder and tangling them in her hair.

when he kisses her, she feels powerful enough to undo the world.

so there’s that now, spending her nights with her grandmother and her prince, and she knows how to make her own legs now, could walk onto land and be made a queen among the two legged men.

but she’s a princess here first, and before she can do that she needs to take care of something.

ursula.

the rotten sea witch with her rotten sea magic won’t be allowed to torment her people any longer.

she tells her grandmother, and amphitrite smiles and says, “an excellent decision, child. i’ve enjoyed our time together, but i think it’s time for me to sleep once more. i’ve taught you everything i can.”

and tears prick ariel’s eyes, but she holds them back. she knew that it couldn’t be forever, that her grandmother can’t die but no longer desires to live and this is the in-between.

“you’ll be an amazing queen,” amphitrite murmurs, and closes her eyes for a millennia more.

this isn’t something to be done in the dead of night, although it would be easier to do it then.

she will make a spectacle of it, she will remind the sea that her people are not to be trifled with.

once upon a time they feared a blue eyed, red haired sea queen with the power to destroy them all. it’s time for them to do so again.

so she drives ursula to the center of the city. her sisters cower and people hide, and her father comes rushing forward to save her.

“you’ve committed great crimes against my people,” she says, not flinching as lightning gathers in the sea witch’s hands, “so now shall a great crime be committed against you.”

“foolish girl,” the sea witch snarls.

triton is yelling. he won’t get there in time.

he doesn’t have to.

she doesn’t need to sing anymore. instead she lifts her hands and pulls ursula apart without ever touching her, not only renders flesh from bone but also sets free the souls she’s been hoarding, reverses the magic done to those who’d fallen into the sea witch’s trap.

they all stare at her, her people, her father, and her sisters. she looks to triton and says, “i’m not a little girl anymore.”

he opens his mouth, closes it again, then says, “i can see that.”

all at once everyone’s perceptions are turned sideways about their youngest princess. she commands a power that even her father doesn’t have access to, she’s not depressed and dreamy – she’s powerful young woman who knows exactly what she’s doing.

so she does what she wanted to do, she gives herself legs and steps onto the sand and launches herself into eric’s arms. she becomes his bride, and the rumors run rampant of what she is, of where she came from, but they can’t prove anything and so they rule.

they live long, happy lives. ariel is his consort, his advisor, his wife, his tactician, and his best friend. all those years reading drowned books have certainly paid off. she ages herself along with her husband, bears his children and then teaches them they ways of her – their – people.

her husband dies, and she disappears, like the stories of selkie women that everyone whispers around her. their children give their father a sea burial, and vow to see him again one day. what they know and none of their subjects do is this – their father’s body isn’t in that casket.

she returns to her ocean, her legs form into her glittering green tail, and she goes home. she uses her terribly powerful magic, and brings her husband with her. she went from princess ariel of the sea to queen ariel of the land, and now she’s back again.

she’s not quite a teenager, but neither is she the old woman she pretended to be on land. she’s returned her and her husband to the prime of their life, and as she gained legs to be with him, he now gives his up to be with her.

eric becomes a merman, and a prince by virtue of being ariel’s husband.

she returns to her family and her world without missing a beat, and they all welcome her as if she never left, treat her husband with kindness and respect.

because they all know.

it doesn’t matter that she’s the youngest. when, far in the future, triton’s reign ends –

ariel’s reign will begin.

I miss the girl I used to be; like her eyes that spoke of innocence and her mind that was full of wonder.But of all things , I miss her heart the most. The heart that loved ferociously without a hint of fear.A heart that loved so greatly the universe could burst in tears. How pure and unblemished. For she was a girl who has never been hurt. Carrying a heart that was pure love to the fullest sense. How I wish I could love that way again.
10

Doctor who + chips

2

remember the white dress i wore all through that film? george came up to me the first day of filming, took one look at the dress and said: “you can’t wear a bra under that dress.”

“ok, i’ll bite,” i said. “why?” and he said: “because… there’s no underwear in space.”

he said it with such conviction. like he had been to space and looked around and he didn’t see any bras or panties anywhere.

he explained. “you go into space and you become weightless. then your body expands but your bra doesn’t, so you get strangled by your own underwear.”

i think that this would make for a fantastic obituary. i tell my younger friends that no matter how i go, i want it reported that i drowned in moonlight, strangled by my own bra.

rest in peace, carrie fisher (october 21st, 1956 - december 27th, 2016)

anonymous asked:

Do you have time to talk about our lord and savior Alisa Haiba? HER BIRTHDAY IS ON MARCH 5th!! (And also ukai's) AND IM DEAD I CANT WAIT TOSEE MORE ART OF HER LIKE EV ER YWHERE

happy birthday alisa!!! (❁´▽`❁)*✲゚*

Hi, yes, this is a picture of Priya swimming across the pond, captured precisely between my “Oh my god, this is hilarious, look at her swimming” mental state and my “OH SHIT THERE’S A DEER, SHE IS TRYING TO SWIM AT THE DEER, GOD PRIYA NO” mental state.

7

I actually had a dream about them?? doing this?? last night?? I mean it’s not very funny but. there u go

hope you feel better anon!! ;v;