#descendants mutuals please see this i wanna know your thoughts so bad

[caliburn-the-sword]

the main talking point of a lot of people that love eah but bash on descendants is that "eah was deep!! descendants was just a disney knockoff that meant nothing and was just a cashgrab" SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP (to be clear i am an eah lover). analytical thoughts to follow:

consider also, that auradon is portrayed as very technologically advanced in direct opposition to the isle being associated with magic (even with its ban) and a lot of of clearly second hand, worn and torn fridges and tvs and whatever

also, the fact that she felt PRESSURED to not only culturally assimilate into auradon culture, but alter her physical appearance to assimilate further. consider mal's costuming in the first movie. on the isle, we see her with (what i assume is her natural) purple hair, leather, etc. she is even, to a degree, gender nonconforming. pretty much the ONLY time we see her in skirts is when she's trying to impress ben for her plan to work

compare this with the hair costuming in descendants 2:

(i actually can't remember which scenes the third one was in but whatever) they have taken away her sparkle!! she's assimilated firstly into auradon fashion by dressing in pastels like them, and in SKIRTS which she textually only wore in the first movie when she wanted to impress ben. now with the added context of her wanting to impress auradon. and it really speaks a lot that she feels she has to conform to gender norms more in order to be accepted by auradon

and what about hair. she's felt the need to not only change the way she dresses, but change her hair to the eurocentric standard, so blonde that it's almost WHITE to conform to auradon's society (because let's be real, her mum's a fairy/dragon and her dad is a greek god. i'd be MORE surprised if she was DYING her hair purple than it being natural). changing your natural hair in order to to conform to and be accepted by the majority... where have i heard that one before??

shoutout to @soniccat

(to be clear. it is not a one for one analogy. "hey using a spell to force someone to forget what you did is an invasion" to me is like going "well actually people were right to fear mutants in x-men because some of them were walking weapons" IT'S A METAPHOR THAT IS ALSO A PLOT DEVICE)

('backwater' being used ironically, do not let my meaning be misconstrued here. a better way to word it is that immigrants are guilttripped into having to be 'grateful' for their oppression in a first world country because microaggressions or assimilation is considered better than the alternative, being back in your home country where living conditions may be considered poorer)

in the sense that for instance, jay put a VK spin on supporting feminism. like yes, he could've done it the rulefollowing, create a petition and gather signatures route, but INSTEAD he finds and exploits an existing loophole to let lonnie join the team. or evie shouting out dizzy's creations, uplifting her voice despite the fact she could've still taken the credit since she was the one that paired the outfit with the accessories. etc

are the descendants movies objectively bad movies?? yes. but this was to me, one of the most compelling analogies for immigrant struggles. take particular notice how almost ALL the main VKs are either racebent from the original disney movies (evie, carlos, uma) or were already based on an ethnic character (mal, jay)

but wait, mal is the whitest white girl to walk the planet. how is she already based on an ethnic character?

glad you asked. it is quite unclear in the descendants movie (basing its portrayal of maleficent on the disney sleeping beauty) is a fairy or a dragon. while the maleficent movie isn't canon to the descendants universe, i'm still going to use the fact that she's a fairy with the magical ability to turn herself into a dragon

a lot fairy folklore comes from ireland. the name maleficent itself, and i quote

shares similarities to the name millicent. millicent has irish (or scottish) roots (even a coat of arms) as in

thus one could argue that maleficent herself could potentially be irish coded

whether or not you agree with the idea that maleficent is irish coded, it is undeniable that mal is the daughter of hades, a greek god. it's a shame that that was a retcon in the third movie and not planned from the start, because the role could've gone to an actually greek actress (please google the ottoman empire and greek independence day if you still think it's not fitting for me to group mal with the others)

where was i going with this?? right. it's extremely telling that most of the main/side VKs, save for gil, are ethnic, in the story of a group of misfits finding themselves in an unfamiliar country with new social norms for them to learn as they try to fit in with and become accepted by their peers

[sugarandspice-games]

Spicy take time (costarring Sugar): The Bros rated by how well I think their arcs/character development/relationship with MC was written and how much it makes sense. (Disclaimer: Our affection for these characters and how interesting, compelling, and lovable we find them has ZERO bearing on this list. ALSO, beware, here there be salt, IE, this is critical of the writing. It’s also long as fuck, so if you just wanna skim and read the bold parts, that’s okay too. You are also free to disagree with us as this is just an opinion, and keep in mind that we have only read to chapter 24 so if there are elements of the story we are unaware of... please be understanding of that and don’t spoil it.) Let’s get started, shall we?

1) Starting at the top is BEST BOI IMO: Beelzebub. So, yeah, in terms of character development and growth, he really doesn’t change all that much, aside from starting off not trusting MC to slowly opening up to them about his trauma. But putting that to the side, his relationship with them makes the most sense. After sharing a bedroom and helping him open up, as well as having the mutual goal of protecting Luke, and then even later going on to save his beloved little brother, it follows that he absolutely adores you afterward. Also, he doesn’t start off disliking you like some of the others. So, all around, he makes the most sense. He’s also one of the deeper characters with his backstory, even if I wish they’d give him other flaws than just being hongry (and playing his unhealthy eating habits/coping mechanism as a joke. Disordered eating should be taken more seriously, especially binge eating but that’s a can of worms for another day)

2) Second best is probably going to shock you, but Satan takes this spot. Why? Well, strictly in terms of arc progression, his relationship with MC starting out as one of manipulation and growing into something more genuine when they go on a heartwarming and wacky adventure together with his hated older brother which causes him to open up makes a lot of sense, at least more so than some of the others. While I wish they gave him more meat characterization wise, I think his arc was pretty well done in terms of story structure.

Okay, so, Sugar here. While I agree with Spice that Satan could use some more meat (and that we should be able to have some more information on Baby Satan because we all need that in our lives), I think that the progression of him and LUCI’S bond (not MC’s) could have done with more subtlety. While I appreciate him softening up, and see that progress, we don’t really get to see the tension of the newfound change and how he settles into letting things go/mellow out and I get it-- it’s a dating sim and the secondary relationships are well, secondary, but it would be interesting to see him and MC bond more through time.

3) Third place probably won’t be all that shocking, because this is where I’m placing Lucifer. He’s arguably one of the characters in the series who’s gotten the most love from the writers, having the most screentime, the most affectionate scenes with MC, and the most fleshed out backstory and characterization as well as fleshed out relationships with each of the characters. His relationship progression with MC also takes a nice, even pace, with him slowly learning to trust them and respect them, culminating in an almost-confession (I THINK. Unless I’m reading that part wrong) and then being shattered at MC’s betrayal, and then earned back in true Pixar-movie fashion by them teaming up for a common goal. HOWEVER. And this is a big however. I would love to see his unhealthy tendencies addressed and NOT fetishized. (Don’t come at me with that “BUT THEY’RE DEMONS THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO BE EVILLLLL” dude. If a demon being in a healthy relationship is where you draw the line in terms of believability, then why are you playing a fantasy demon dating sim anyway?) I love him, I stan him, I simp for him, but I wish he had at least apologized for his not-subtle threats of physical violence toward MC rather than jumping straight into the ALSO kinda violent “You’re mine and nobody else’s” gimmick.

Unlike some men (SPICE), I am actually not a Luci stan and while I do have a soft spot, and understanding of his place as an eldest sibling... I would also like to see the writer’s unravel the unhealthiness/coping Lucifer has in place and why/how it came to be. I feel like we get a sense that Luci has thawed since coming to the Devildom but we don’t really see how Lucifer in the Celestial Realm (and how his friendship with Simeon) has progressed. Luci has a lot of love from the writers but from a story stand-point, he is never really allowed to be weak and own up to his own flaws and how that has impacted/hurt MC.

4) Sharing fourth place is Leviathan and Mammon! I’m putting them in the same spot because the issues I have with them are the same, though I plan on addressing their good points individually. But since my beef is simpler, I’m going to start off with the bad. IMO, a good rivals to friends to lovers romance happens in STEPS. You start off from not getting along, to then finding some things in common, and gradually coming to respect each other, and then like each other, and finally love each other. This... doesn’t really happen with these two, and while we see the change from both tsundere boys starting off disliking you and eventually coming to love you, we don’t really get that inbetween that makes the payoff so much worth it. And if those inbetweens are there, the story doesn’t really tell us that, and it doesn’t show us their thought processes. Like, how much would it suck if in pokemon, your charmander evolved immediately into Charizard upon beating your first few gyms? It’s like that.

But as for the good, Levi’s arc makes sense because you’re the first person to really let him be himself and not shame him for the things he loves. You let him ramble about his interests and show interest in them yourself (AT LEAST IF YOU’RE NOT A FUCKING MONSTER. I’ll let Sugar talk more on him, that’s their boy.)

Whoo, boy. Here we go! For whatever reason, the otaku became my favorite and I love him, but as far as arcs go... He could have gotten a bit more screentime and progress. It makes sense that he would become attached to MC as his brothers are very, very... critical and patronizing about his interests. He is also by far the most skittish and introverted of the bunch, coupled with his sin and seeing all the ways he falls short (in his eyes) is a recipe for loneliness and desire for companionship/friendship. While I am not happy with the progression, for me, it makes sense and I would also have loved to see some breaking/softening of how much his Sin influences him when it comes to MC. I’m not saying erase it because demons are meant to give in to temptation but some reassurance and acceptance of that would be good.

(I also know that there is some disk horse about him guilt-tripping you about spending time with his brothers and while I agree it can be hard... It definitely isn’t on a painful level. Like, say... Ray’s in Jihyun’s route in Mystic Messenger. This also is a difference for players who are interested in one love route versus the many route and different strokes, but I digress.)

As far as Mammon goes, well, you’re his first. And he’s not only glad that there’s someone who’s kind to him instead of making fun of him, but also takes pride in having someone to protect. His puppy crush going to full blown love is adorable.

This blog is all about spicy takes, yeah? Well, here’s mine (Sugar): Mammon is lovable but not as lovable as he could be and before all the Mammon stans, come for me- let it be known I like Mammon but his introduction and how he comes to be soft is NOT an easy, or believable transition. There are ways to write a good tsundere and the writers just missed the mark by having Mammon be too callous and then slipping to lovable without that sweet slide into the other end. I will not deny he is very cute, and a good character, and a good brother (and also the most human, according to Satan’s home screen interaction) but... The progression and endearment factor is lacking because of the structure of the narrative.

5) Is another unsurprising one, but this spot is Belphegor’s. Solmare. My dude. Why did you do this. We could have had it ALL. It could have been great. But you screwed the pooch. You took anything good about this relationship out behind the shed and shot it like a lame horse. Let it be known that I LIKED Belphie and MC’s alliance to get him out of gay baby jail, and I adored that love he still holds for Beel... I thought he was going to be a fav of mine, in fact. But how they handled the... uhm... murder ruined it for me. I’m sorry, I just cannot believe that I’m supposed to suddenly be besties with the man who manipulated me and crushed me to death like, a week after it happened. What if I have PTSD from that??? Also... he claims that he loves MC for who they are and not because of Lilith, but that’s not believable when his whole turning point is finding out that they’re Lilith’s descendant. The change needed to be more gradual, and having a subtle, gradual forgiveness arc would have been AWESOME but we were robbed. ROBBED I TELL YOU!!!!!

Annnd... Belphie is actually one of my favorites FOR SOME REASON. I DON’T KNOW MAN. I agree that we could have had it and I’m like (Insert Hades red flaming hair gif here). The decision to not have a redemption arc ruined it for me and while I love Belphie and his softness/brattiness mixture with handling MC... It is underscored by a lack of believable affection and the payoff of struggle on both Belphie’s part and MC’s. Also, there is a lot of ‘You are not who I want you to be, but it’s good enough’ with MC regarding their lineage and connections to the brothers and how that plays out/color the relationships with maybe the exception of Satan and surprisingly, Mammon that irks me but again, another thought for another time.

6) Aaaaand last and also the least... Asmodeus. “YOU GET NOTHING!!! YOU LOSE! GOOD DAY SIR.” --Solmare to Asmo. The writers neglected him SO much, I like him but what the hell are they doing? There’s so much that could be explored here, and with anything involving Asmo they’re like “I do not see it”. His love for MC also isn’t really that believable when his turning point is realizing that they’re powerful. It doesn’t even fit with any of his potential conflicts. The Diavolo’s castle arc set us up to think that Asmo would have some deep seated insecurities with not being able to be loved or desired by everyone, or maybe some insecurities about not being an angel anymore, or some vulnerability issues or something, and they were just like NOPE. It doesn’t make any gotdamn sense! I just... Grrr. Asmo, I’m so sorry, sweetie. You deserve better.

Asmodeus definitely deserves better and I will stand by that until the day I stop playing this damn game. While I, personally, think that his intrigue with MC makes sense (because he is lusty-- probably not just for sex but in general), it makes sense he would want someone with power but while the set up is there, his character falls flat because there is no bonding moment, or turning point for him at all. His affection for MC is still that playful, carefree, flirty persona he carries and I would love to see it dropped and how his fall from the Celestial Realm really weighs on him and an arc where he and MC talk about vulnerability and the power behind being seen as someone attractive and the way it dehumanizes you at the same time. It could be good-- hell, it could be great-- but it was killed before it started and I will never not think that Asmo could have had some KILLER growth. As it stands, he has more connection/romantic potential with Solomon than MC.

Anyway, that’s all for now folks! Feel free to yell at us in the replies, you know you want to. If this post blows up enough, maybe we can rate the undatables (though they don’t have any story arcs so... that would be a challenge.)

[zankivich]

The Assistant: Shawn Mendes x Personal Assistant: A One-shot

a/n: this is just me seeing if I could even still write for this man tbh. I’ve been getting very good at separating my emotions about the pr stunt, and I think that’s because I literally have blocked it from my social media in every way, shape, or form. Honestly when I wrote this I envisioned a black woman because that’s just where I’m at in life, but I never specified so....do with it what you will. K bye. 

WARNINGS: mutual pining, fluff, love.

“Stop it, jackass.”

“No Shawn, seriously. Stop!”

“Stop! We’re going to be late, and if I have to hear Andrew complain one more time about it, I’m kicking your ass, do you hear me?!”

Being the personal assistant to Shawn Mendes is basically the best job in the world. You got to travel all the time. You got to learn more about the music industry than your internship at a record label had ever taught you. And he just happened to be the sweetest, most wholesome person on the planet. Except for when he was getting on your goddamn nerves. This just happened to be his favorite past time.

You’d been his PA for four years and no one knew him better. You knew his coffee order, what size underwear he wore, and the brand of cough medicine he trusted most. You knew what made him scared in life, what one sigh meant from another when it came past his lips, and when he was hungry or tired or emotional. What you hadn’t been prepared for was for Shawn to learn these things about you. And what you should have prepared yourself for was the trouble that this would bring.

Shawn had spent the last twenty minutes playing with some nerf gun that Brian had bought. He thought it would be a wonderful idea to see if he could hit you with it from multiple points around his hotel room. Shawn was usually business all the time, and so you loved any opportunity for him to get to relax and be a twenty-one year old. He had taken advantage of this and was more excited for a nerf battle than the business meeting he needed to be at in forty-five minutes.

“You have goooooot to relax a little bit.” He sighed rolling his eyes and dropping the gun.

He made his way over to you and slid his oversized palms onto your shoulders. Screw him. He was so warm and tall and chiseled. Dumb. So dumb.

“I could relax a lot more if you just let me do my job.” You pouted.

He snorted softly and let his thumb touch your chin.

“Is this you pouting now? You’re gonna try and guilt trip me with a pout?”

“That depends....Is it working?”

He licked his lip and you honestly could have swung on him. There was no need for him to behavior is such a sensual matter. Damn him.

“I’ll get my shoes on.” He hummed in defeat. “Just don’t be sad.”

You smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

He paused for a second, his hands still poised on your shoulders. There’s a moment of silence where it’s just the two of you looking at each other. You up at the mammoth you called a boss, and him down at you with those honey brown eyes. You hated when he looked at you this way, like he might wanna try something, like he might actually care about you the way that you cared about him. All it did was cause you unnecessary hurt, and very vivid daydreams.

See there’s a running joke in the Shawn Mendes team. If you want Shawn to do anything, then you simply just call y/n. The two of you were closer than closer, and he seemed to trust you with his life. Eventually you had become friends. Close friends. And so it suddenly became less “go buy me a juice” and more “can I lay my head in your lap until my migraine passes”. When the road was cold and lonely and he had no one, it was you he cuddled up to. For Shawn it was the convenience of it. You were there and you could provide him with what he needed. But for you? God touching him was like lightning. And you hated every second where it wasn’t real, where it didn’t mean the same thing to him. More than anything you hated the way that you loved it, because it meant being in his orbit.

“Go get your shoes on. Please?” You whispered.

He nodded slowly and pulled away finally giving you a moment to breathe.

The ride to this meeting was a quiet one. You struggled with Shawn’s affectionate touches and the ridiculously soft glances. Every now and again it got to be too much, and you had to preserve yourself if you were going to stay afloat. Working for Shawn was a joy, but that didn’t stop it from hurting sometimes.

The car pulled up to the destination and Shawn went to open his door only to stop when you didn’t follow him.

“Aren’t you coming?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I’m gonna go pick up your suit for your party.”

“Oh...Well you’re still coming to the party right?”

“Of course. I’m on duty, Shawn.”

He frowned. “No you’re not. I invited you as a friend.”

“Yea well Andrew knows better than to let you go to an open party with alcohol without me, so...I’ll be there regardless.”

“Okay well...I’m sorry you have to put up with me for the night.” He mumbled closing the door.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the headrest. Now you were both in a bad mood. Ugh.

***

New Year’s Eve was testing your patience. Here you were looking good as hell, ass all poised and waiting to be grabbed. What did you get instead? Nothing. Not a look, not a squeeze. You took another sip out of your vodka soda and went to stand up only to figure out that the previous two drinks before it, were a little stronger than you remembered. Shit.

“Woops! I’m sorry!” You gasped knocking into someone behind you.

“Sorry I--Oh, hey.”

You bit you lip and peered up at Shawn. The suit looked even better on him now then it did when he first stepped into it. And then there were his rosey cheeks and the heat of the room getting to his curls by the moment. He was absolutely stunning, and you couldn't believe you were about to enter another year of being practically suffocated by the weight of him.

“Hi.” You murmured reaching one of his arms to stabilize yourself. “How are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been alright. It’s been kinda hard to have fun though. My best friend’s been MIA.”

You snorted. “Is that so?”

“Yep. She got mad at me earlier, and I’m not really quite sure why. Perhaps you could tell me. I hear men are pretty dumb.”

You let your body weight lean into him, and sighed happily when his hands fell to your waist. Usually you’d do anything to stay away from this kind of contact, but vodka is a hell of a thing.

“It’s fine. I’m over it.” You assured him.

His eyebrows scrunched together at your words. That sort of Canadian pout of his. It was extremely effective.

“See, but I don’t even understand why you do that. Sometimes it’s like you're pissed at me, and then maybe you decide to get over it all without ever telling me what I’ve done in the first place.”

“Look let’s just enjoy the night, huh? It’s New Year’s Eve. All your friends and family are here. Let’s not make it more complicated.”

“Fine. But only if you promise to stop sulking in a corner and come have fun with me.” He mumbled. “I’ve like missed you all day.”

It was moments like that that you just wanted to shake him and yell. How could he not see what he was putting you through? How was it not incredibly obvious how in love you were with him? But you could tell just by the look on his face that he was being as sincere as ever. Shawn was just too kind for his own good, and for yours apparently.

“Yea, okay. Let’s have fun.”

*two hours later*

You are drunk. And the only reason you know how drunk you are is because you’ve lost your ability to measure other people’s drunkness. As far as your ass is concerned, everyone is living their best life and no one is any drunker than one another. Dumb. You should have known Shawn was drunk off his ass the minute he started hugging strangers. But alas, if Andrew’s expectation was that you were meant to keep him out of trouble then...you just might be fired tomorrow.

“You smell amazing.” Shawn whispered in your ear as he threw himself onto your back, arms wrapping tightly around you. “Where have you been all my life?”

You giggled. “I’ve been here, kiddo. You know, controlling your day to day life, keeping you afloat?”

“Not like that. I mean...I mean like...where have you been ya know?” He mumbled taking a sip out of a champagne bottle.

Sober you would’ve gotten him straight to bed at this point. Drunk you was a little dumber.

“No I don’t!”

“You just...God you’re so beautiful ya know?” He huffed bringing your foreheads together. “It drives me crazy.”

“What? What did you say?”

“Y/n I--”

“Shawn!”

And just like that, one minute the boy you like is hovering over you with heart eyes and the next his friends are practically picking him up. Jon, Brian, and Connor descended like wolves, quickly rushing Shawn away from you.

“We’ll be right back!” Bryan called over his shoulder.

You were left to your own devices and the only thing you could think to do in your drunken state was...to go complain to Aalyiah about how dumb her brother was. You know, like a crazy person.

“Hey what’s wrong?” She asked softly, not nearly as drunk as you. It must have been the whole underage thing.

You shook your head. “Your brother is an idiot.”

“Oh I’m aware. But why in particular is he an idiot this time?”

“He just can’t communicate jackshit unless it’s in a song. Can’t tell anyone how he feels. Just likes to stick his dumb, big head everywhere with his dumb big eyes and his dumb smile. I’m sick of it, ya know?”

Aaliyah smiled softly at you and squeezed your shoulder.

“Oh you poor thing. You want me to talk to him?”

You eyes widened. “No. Oh no, ‘Lyiah, not at all. I was just blowing off steam.”

“Uh huh…”

“No seriously. Promise me you won’t say anything.”

She rolled her eyes. “But y/n--”

“No promise me!”

“Alright, alright, Jeez. I promise.” She groaned. “But for the record if this is how complicated adults liking each other is, I want no part in it.”

“‘Liking’? Who said anything about liking?”

“Oh y/n...Please.”

“I liked you better when you were younger and shyer.”

*meanwhile in the corner on the opposite side of the party*

“What the hell guys!” Shawn muttered still trying to peer over the heads of people to see y/n.

Jon clicked his fingers in front of his face. “Excuse me? You told us not to let you get carried away with y/n tonight, remember?”

“...No. not really. And I retract my statement, now if you’ll excuse me...Goddamit, guys!”

They weren’t budging. And Shawn was pretty sure he was thinking clearer than he had in years. Save for the bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Bro, stop being an idiot, you’re blowing my high here!” Brian yelled at him. “You don’t want to fuck things up with y/n remember? You don’t want to mix business with pleasure! These are your words.”

“But...But...she’s so pretty.” He whined closing his eyes in despair. “So pretty.”

Jon snorted. “Oh to be young and in love. What a travesty.”

“Look we’ve got ten minutes until the ball drops. Let’s get you a fresh bottle of champagne and try to relax, aye?”

Shawn couldn’t quite do anything but pout.

“Fine. Let me go dammit.”

And thus the two were separate as the party began to re-hype for the ball drop. Brian got Shawn a bottle of champagne, his friends surrounding him on all sides so that he didn’t make any mistakes. Y/n was left to chill back in her corner. Without Shawn to hang out with, and his friends--which used to be her friends--being assholes, it was a lost cause.

At some point you were just waiting for the night to end. You wanted to go back to your hotel and sleep and forget all about Shawn’s dumb face when he told you how beautiful you were. What a joke. This whole night was a joke. Usually Jon and you would’ve spent the whole night making fun of all the white people, Connor would have hung on your hip like he always tended to do. Even Brian was a cocky son of a bitch who let you give it right back to him. But Shawn didn’t want to be near you for some reason. Friends. Yea right.

It wasn’t until everyone begin counting that you realized you weren’t in the mood at all. The excitement. The joy. It just wasn’t there. So you decided to leave. Meanwhile, at the clock struck midnight, Shawn busted open a bottle of champagne to spray his friends with. It’d been a hell of a year and he knew he deserved to celebrate a little bit. So the hugs go all the way around and he squeezes them tight enough that he hopes they know how much he loves them. He’s drunk and he’s happy and when those two things happen there’s typically on one person he wants to share that with. But it only takes one look around the room to see you’re not there. And that’s the opposite of what he wanted.

“Hey! Hey! Have you seen y/n?” He asked Jon who had quickly discovered his girlfriend’s throat after the ball drop.

“No man. And you shouldn’t either.” He huffed.

But Shawn had no time for his friend’s bullshit. This was the woman of his dream they were talking about here.

Brian was practically tripping balls and extremely ineffective. Connor was sympathetic but hadn’t seen her. His next best guess was Aaliyah, who was looking a little wobbily like maybe she’s stolen a drink or two. (He was too drunk and too fixated on y/n to remember that he’d been the one to give them to her).

“Sis, have you seen y/n? I can’t find her anywhere!”

She rolled her eyes. “No! But she probably got tired of the games and went back to her room.”

“What games? What are you talking about?”

“She’s tired of you acting like you want her until it gets too serious and then backing away and pretending you’re just friends. It’s bullshit and it hurts and she probably got fed up. Let me guess tonight’s plan was to have the guys keep you away from her?”

Having a sixteen year old sister who’s smarter than you is truly terrible.

He stared at her dumbfounded. “I…”

“Yea, that’s what I thought. Look if you don’t want to be with her just leave her alone. She’s not some play toy, alright?”

“I’m not--that’s not even remotely what’s going on!” He muttered at her.

“Well that’s what it looks like! Women aren’t stupid and you’re not clever, dumbass. Stop messing with her. It’s driving her crazy.”

He rubbed his hands over his face thankful when the music finally cut down as people took the time to huge and squeeze their loved ones for the new year. His little sister had never been one to let him off the hook, and it was nice to know some things weren't going to change in 2020.

“I’m in love with her!” He bursted. “I’ve been in love with her since the moment I saw her, and I didn’t want to let her go, okay? She’s amazing at her job and she’s my best friend. And I need her in my life. So, I thought I’d rather have a part of her forever than ever face the possibility of losing her. She’s not some plaything alright...she’s--she’s everything.”

And just like that the anger on her face twisted to happiness and she quickly reached to pat him on the shoulder. Teenage girls were practically navy seals mixed with ninjas or some shit.

“See, now was that so hard?”

“Look don’t take this the wrong way but I think you might be a sociopath.”

Aaliyah rolled her eyes again and pointed over his shoulder. He turned to see y/n standing there with her jacket in hand looking about as shocked as he felt. Suddenly the room was much warmer than he remembered, and his hair felt sweaty against eh back of his next. The cat was out of the bag.

“H--How much of that did you hear?” He asked you, walking slowly in your direction.

You bit your lip. “I showed up around the ‘love’ part.”

“Oh...okay. Do you wanna--can we maybe go somewhere and talk?”

“I don’t know. I’m drunk. You’re drunk. I’d probably just go to sleep thinking I made the shit up.”

He shook his head. “That couldn’t be y/n. I meant it. Every word.”

“Yea? Then prove it.”

“Prove it? How?”

“I don’t know! I’m drunk, shit.” You whined.

He rolled his eyes up at the ceiling and stalked closer to you until you had to peer up in order to see him. His warmth was intoxicating, the smell of campagne still fresh on his lips. This is dangerous territory. There are witnesses. No room for him to go back when he changes his mind in the morning. His fingers cup your cheek.

“Shawn.” You warned jaw going slack in his grip.

“You drive me absolutely crazy, you know that?” He whispered, breath fanning your face.

“Yea, the feeling is mutual...Don’t play with me right now.”

“I’m not. I swear to you. We can figure the rest out tomorrow, but for now, I love you.”

“Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

There were tears in your eyes threatening to fall, and your body as lose as it was from the alcohol was still struggling to let go. You’d dreamt about these words long enough that reality has begun to blur. Who knows what’s real and what isn’t.

“I mean it.” He hummed so softly against your lips. “I mean it, I mean it, I mean it. I love you. Let me show you.”

Leave it to your New Year’s kiss to come fifteen minutes late. But there’s not a care in the world when his lips are on yours. Your toes dig into the carpet as you lean up to kiss him something soft and chaste turning more dominant by the second. If this was a dream, let them never wake you up. Because it felt so real. So right. So soft.

“Happy New Year sweetheart.” He whispered against your ear.

And a happy new year it was.

The End.

Taglist: 

@liliane106 @wokeupinjapanisabop @sinplisticshawn @lifeoftheparty74 @xeuphorically-moonstruck @euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven @justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi @september-lace @disaster-rose @dimestorebieber22 @sinplisticshawn@MixerMani  @justbeingoceana @qcoachcartier @simpledomain @kamahriii @lifeoftheparty74 @valedictorian65

[queerfables]

Supernatural Liveblog (Episodes 1x06 - 1x08)

These notes were made while we were watching and they’re much funnier than the ones we made afterwards bc we’re real bad at remembering stuff. 

We’re all still on the incest train and I’m starting to worry that by the time Cas shows up, I’m going to be actually invested and end up shipping wincestiel. Am i allowed to make “this fandom is a curse” jokes yet or am I still too new?

Supernatural 1x06 - Skin

We open on a lady tied to a chair, a guy with a knife, and SWAT descending on the house while sexy rock music plays. N: This is.... an elaborate BDSM scene Me: I WAS JUST THINKING. N: This show walked so Hannibal could run.

Lmfao @ Dean's face when Sam says he's a cop. He lies about this all the time but when Sam does it he's suddenly all pissy? "You're a real straight shooter with your friends" Well Dean maybe if you had any friends to lie to you wouldn't be so judgey.

The camera focuses on a suspicious man, whose eyes flash white. We all ooh. P: okay, but he's not a demon, because his eyes didn't go black. Me: must be the opposite of a demon! P: An angel? N: A horse. Me, laughing: I actually know what it is from tumblr. N: Is it a horse?

Dean, after getting an I told you so moment about Sam's lying, "This whole gig isn't without it's perks," he says, and hands Dean a gun. Me: this is America, you don't need to hunt monsters and demons to get a gun P, the only American in the room: You get one at birth.

The scene where Sam figures out Dean is being impersonated by the shapeshifter is really good. But also after it finished I looked at P and N and said, "would you guys be mad at me if I said that was really gay?" N: Not even a little P: Same, babe

And then we get Sam tied up and a Dean lookalike (Deanleganger!) leaning in all close saying "He's got issues with you" like WOW.

I really enjoy seeing more of Dean's issues through the shapeshifter's eyes, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't also enjoy how sexual this tension is.

Dean waking up tied up in the same room as Sam later P: Was he just... Like... Hiding under a sheet of canvas? N: I think he was supposed to be unconscious, but like who knows Me: I think he was hiding. "Jesus Christ, guy, please don't tell my brother I'm into him."

Then P said xe were kind of into Dean in this episode and N&I agreed that both Sam and Dean were looking good this episode. P laughed at us for having the same taste, and I pointed out that it's not that surprising because we're both into xem.

Supernatural 1x07 - Hook Man

Dean doesn't want to paint the guy purple, but he'll watch over a magazine.

P: maybe he's not repressed, maybe he's just a voyeur

P thinks that being attracted to reverends' daughters is The Lesbian Experience

Dean talks about losing his mum N: "Hey, I have trauma too" Me: That's like, his one move. N: To be fair, in real life, it WORKS P, looking at me: It's how we got together. P, looking at N: Actually, it's how we got together too.

Dean looks longingly at the party and then says he's going to go dig up unmarked graves. P: That's a bisexual mood. Sorry, Dean. N: Making out with cute people and hanging out at a cemetery aren't necessarily mutually exclusive.

N argues that cemeteries are queer safe spaces because: no one else around, film nights, church-adjacent and therefore just the right level of sacrilegious

Dean is being extra bisexual in this episode, which is fun for an episode about religion and emotional repression.

Me: Hey what was this episode called? N: Man door hand hook car gun? P, looking at phone: Hook Man. Me: Seriously? P: I found it by googling "Hand hook car door supernatural"

Supernatural 1x08 - Bugs

Me: Oh I think this is the episode with the bees that didn't show up on camera and had to be CGI'd in later.

Lmfao @ Sam and Dean being mistaken for a couple. N: Oh yeah, they know what they're doing. Me: It's too early for them to be seeing what fandom is picking up and reacting to it. P: They're definitely doing this on purpose

Getting strong homophobic dad/queer son vibes from the insect kid and his dad. Sam is very soft with the kid (to the point of picking up his spider?? UGH but also aw) which I like

N finds the spiders very cute and cuddly. P and I are not so convinced.

Dean is fully in the wrong with his whole "Don't tell the kid to leave his dysfunctional family! Why are you acting like Dad did anything wrong? You yelled at him too!" schtick, and I make no excuses for it. My heart does hurt for him as well as for Sam, though. I'm pretty sure the reason he's so hurt by Sam identifying with this kid is that he did everything he could to shield Sam from their dad's abuse, and if Sam still feels this way then what was it all for? Also, their dad wasn't the only one Sam left. Like, I wanna forcibly cuddle Dean and yell "Sam was right to go! You can leave your dad too!!" but I understand why he feels this way.

I tuned out while they were explaining the reason the bugs are all attacking but I think the gist was something something ancient burial grounds? P and N were like "Seriously??"

On the bright side, at least they did not actually break the curse. N says "Hiding in an attic for five minutes with an improvised flame thrower until the sun comes up is pretty anticlimactic, but it could have been worse!"

Final comments:

The funniest thing is how there’s an episode where Sam and Dean are mistaken for a couple and it’s still not as incesty as the one where Dean gets replaced by a shapeshifter who can access his innermost thoughts.

[hexlikesramennoodles]

32 please :)

32. A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards.

Author’s note: this one got away from me! Writing unnecessarily long fic is my brand, I guess.

“What the hell are you doing?” Steve’s voice demanded.

The bathroom door swung shut behind him with a metallic scream of hinges. In the corner of the mirror, Billy caught sight of him: stalking forwards with his hands bunched at his sides, his hair a ludicrous, flopping bouffant. He was wearing a new sweater: a deep navy blue, luxurious and soft-looking. The Ralph Lauren logo was sewn onto his breast, its stick man arm raised. His mom had bought it for him, Billy guessed. Steve rarely chose any of his clothes himself, and it showed—he always looked awkward, conscious of his body and how you perceived it.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Billy zipped his fly, then stepped away from the urinal. He let the faucet run, taking his time on purpose. If Steve was going to come in here and harass him while he answered a call of nature, he could wait until Billy had washed his hands.

“Uh-uh,” Steve said. “Don’t do that. I hate it when you do that.”

“Harrington, I’ve got a date waiting for me, so if you’re gonna—”

“Oh, a date, huh?” Steve’s eyebrows arched high. “A date with Stella, of all people? Since when was she your type?”

“Since yesterday,” answered Billy. “Time is money, Harrington. I’m gonna miss my movie.” He smiled nastily. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get to second base before the credits roll.”

He didn’t doubt it. Stella Delgado was one of those girls whose clinging insecurity was as loud and obvious as the cheap perfume she wore. She was every small town cliché wrapped into one: an alcoholic father who beat her bloody on the regular. An absent mother, dead or eloped with another abusive deadbeat. Three runty, snotnosed siblings under the age of ten of whom she was the unwilling primary caregiver. She looked at Billy the same way Karen Wheeler looked at him: with moist, lip-wobbling hope. Billy imagined that she’d already written the names of their children in her lockable diary, using neat, curlicued handwriting; two of them, a boy and a girl with his hair and her eyes.

Steve stared at him, red-faced and irate. A loose thread dangled from the sleeve of his sweater. Billy was seized by a strong impulse to pull at it. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Don’t,” Steve was suddenly snarling. He took a step towards Billy, long and darting, then seemed to stop himself. “I hate it when you act like there’s nothing wrong. Like you don’t know exactly what you’re fucking doing. It drives me crazy.”

Good, Billy thought. That loose thread was starting to piss him off; everything about Steve was starting to piss him off.

“This is about Nancy, isn’t it?” Steve went on. “Who told you we were going to the movies? Fucking Carol? I knew it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Billy said venomously. “You think you’re that important, Harrington? Huh? You think I pine for you?”

“Stella’s really nice.” Steve’s voice was deliberately calm, rigid. “You’re gonna break her heart. Does she know you’re g—”

Billy lunged at him. Steve must have been expecting it; he rapidly backpedaled, raising his arms as he did so. “What was that?” Billy said loudly, putting a hand to his ear. “You wanna repeat that for me?”

He hated that he knew which of Steve’s clothes his mom had picked out for him, and which ones Steve had chosen for himself. He hated how looking at Steve made him feel: tight and hot and uncomfortable, as if he was covered in a layer of clay that had set wrong and was starting to buckle at the edges. Brittle, too close to snapping. Most of all, he hated Stella Delgado, and how vulnerable she was. How trusting.

She should know better by now.

“Look, it’s whatever, alright?” Steve said. “Just stay away from Nance. I mean that.”

His sneaker squeaked on tile; in the bathroom mirror, Billy saw him turn to leave. “You think she loves you?” he called.

He shouldn’t have said it, should’ve known when to leave well enough alone, but that required more foresight than he was capable of mustering. It was too gratifying to watch the words land, the impact they had on Steve’s posture: a visible rippling down his spine, as if he’d passed close to an electric current. He was so easy to read. There was a hole in Billy’s chest, a hole with ragged, eroded edges that went all the way through him. The sickly rush of gratification filled it right back up, made him believe—for one brief, terrible moment—that he wasn’t so hollow inside.

“Nance fucked Jonathan Byers,” he said. The faucet was still running, the sound seeming to come from right between his temples. It was thunderous, relentless; the sound caught him, swept him up, and he didn’t know how to make himself stop and so all he could do was keep going, descending towards his inevitable doom. Billy’s mother had been an alcoholic, too; self-destruction was in his blood.

“We’re past that,” Steve said quietly.

Billy licked his lips. “No. I mean—I mean she fucked him again. On Memorial Day. Ask Carol if you don’t believe me. She doesn’t love you. She’s just waiting for something better to come along.” He licked his lips again, then showed Steve his teeth. It felt more like a grimace than a smile. “Looks like she found it—”

But Steve was shaking his head. “Jonathan’s my friend, Billy. Why would he—Christ, do you even hear yourself sometimes?”

“She doesn’t love you,” Billy repeated. “Ask Carol. Ask anybody. Half the town knows by now. You’re the only one who’s not with the program, pretty boy.”

He was paraphrasing what Carol had told him, if only to spare Harrington’s ego. In reality, Carol had drunkenly mimed the story using a popsicle stick and the middle of a jelly doughnut—splat!—laughing while she did it. Her grin had been wide and stupid, her laughter snorting and pig-like. Billy had wanted to throttle her.

“What are you saying?” Steve sounded tired, not outraged. Billy hated that, too. Wheeler made Steve so fucking weak. Billy had been expecting a shove, maybe even a punch. He deserved as much. But no—Steve was good for Nancy, perfect princess Nancy. “It’s Nancy, it always comes back to Nancy. Are you trying to tell me that I’d be better off with you?”

Billy opened his mouth. He had the words, all the bad nasty evil words that he knew would hurt if he decided to unleash them. You think I’m some kind of fucking queer? When Stella had bounded up to him in front of the concessions stand, her mud-colored hair pushed behind her ears and her unremarkable mouth stretched into an even more unremarkable smile, she hadn’t even noticed the lipgloss Billy was wearing. Maybe she’d told herself it was a trick of the fluorescents, that she was seeing things, silly girl. People always see what they wanna see.

“Billy,” Steve said. His voice was much closer. “Do you love me?”

His reflection had become a smudge on the glass of the mirror. It hurt to look at him. It made Billy’s eyes prickle. His hands were frozen around the edge of the sink, the water streaming from the faucet ceaselessly. Its spray wet his face and his eyelashes, but he could hardly feel it.

“Yeah, right,” Steve muttered. “Like you’d even know what that is. People are just disposable to you. Just—”

When his sneaker squeaked again, it was accompanied by the sound of the door reopening. Billy looked up. Steve’s sweater was shrinking, vanishing into the hallway outside, its loose thread fluttering.

They had entered an arrangement based on a mutual understanding of three things. One, that Billy had a cock. He wasn’t like Nancy, or any other girl Steve had been with before her. Two, that he wasn’t soft, delicate, or malleable. He would never fit into whatever Steve’s ideal for a life partner was. He didn’t want to. Three, that Steve didn’t want him, either. Steve liked his body and his face, but he was always telling Billy about the things he didn’t like. Always telling Billy he was too much, too intense.

Fine. Crystal fucking clear. Or so Billy had thought.

“I’m goin’ away for the summer.” Steve was holding the door open with his foot. He always had to have the last word. “With my parents. To Spain, then Portugal. Might visit the grandparents while we’re there. Do some … soul searching. So.”

Billy felt himself blink. “So?”

Steve’s Adam’s apple was a slow roll. He shrugged, and pushed the door wider. He was leaving. Billy watched him go, his hands gripping the sink uselessly. Faucet still splashing, but the sound wasn’t inside his head anymore. It was far off, unimportant. Steve was leaving, and Billy wasn’t doing anything to stop him.

“I’ll miss you,” he blurted.

Steve sighed.

The door slammed shut. Two, three steps: Steve was moving faster than Billy had ever seen him. He yanked Billy by the collar, kissing him with such force it jarred his neck. Billy’s hipbone was crushed against the sharp edge of the sink, but the pain was the sweetest he’d ever felt. Steve kissed him hard enough to make his jaw ache, then soothed the ache with a touch of his fingertips. He kissed the lipgloss from Billy’s mouth and moaned at the taste. He kissed angrily and with teeth, like he had a bone to pick, an itch to scratch. That was nothing new.

“I miss you all the time,” Billy said.

“Shut up,” Steve whispered. “Don’t talk. Everything you ever say—you never mean it—”

“I do. I do. I’m sorry.”

Steve’s fingers were still touching his face. Billy didn’t open his eyes. He could feel Steve there, a closeness that bordered on claustrophobia. His spine was pressed up against the sink, running water soaking the back of his shirt. The stillness, the intimacy of being this close to someone without doing anything about it, was unbearable. Exhilarating.

“God.” Steve exhaled harshly through his teeth; his breath surged over Billy’s face. When Billy willed his eyes open, Steve was standing in front of him, looking like a middle schooler faced with a complicated math problem. His eyes were scrunched shut, and his teeth worried at his lower lip. Billy could see where some of the glitter from the gloss had smeared on him, pink and little-girl pretty. Before he realized what he was doing, he reached across and wiped it off with his thumb. 

Steve’s eyes snapped open. He looked at Billy almost wonderingly. “You wanna get out of here?”

What about Nancy? Billy wanted to say. I’m gonna miss my movie, he wanted to say, like a smartass. He wanted to kick and scream and give Steve hell, send him flying straight back into Wheeler’s bony arms. Instead he lowered his head, meek, and let Steve entwine a finger around his pinkie. Stella was better off without him.

They left the bathroom together. Walking past the concession stand and the claw cranes, the squashy chairs where you could sit and watch the trailers for every movie that was coming out for the summer. Steve’s finger stayed curled around his pinkie, because he couldn’t outright take Billy’s hand. Not while they were in public.

By the time they reached the escalators, they were running.

[kor-knight]

Can i get a oneshot where FP and Betty get kidnapped/attacked together and Betty saves him in some way, so then Jughead is really grateful🌸

AND I’M FINALLY DONE THIS. I’m sorry it took so long. I actually like the way this turned out. Hope you enjoy! 

“Okay. We’reokay”

Betty’s voice washallow, raspy against the cool wind and darkness around them. Shetook a shaky breath, looking around. A series of cracks spider webbedacross the windshield, impossible to see clearly out of. To her leftwas the driver door, dented and pushing painfully against her side.She moved slightly, testing out her limbs. She winced at pain flaringsomewhere on her left side, uncertain where the affected area isexactly.

Looking to theright, she spots her ally, a crumbled mess of limbs and blood in thepassenger seat. FP lay unconscious, blood trickling from a wound onhis forehead. Her eyes scanned his body, unable to see any otherinjuries. Leaning over, Betty places a tentative hand on FP’sshoulder, gently rocking it.

“FP?” Her voicewas just above a whisper, the sound scratching against her rawthroat. “FP you need to wake up.” She continued shaking him,shifting her chest to face him. “C’mon, please just open youreyes.”

The older manshifted, groaning loudly. Betty let out a sigh of relief, resting herhead gently on his shoulder for a second. Taking a deep breath, shepulls back and scans his face once more. The cut on his forehead wasdeeper than she initially thought, but that seemed to be where tobrunt of the blood was coming from. Her shoulders sagged with somerelief. She moved slightly, turning to face him wholy.

“FP?”

His eyes lookedtired when they fell on hers, hooded lids and a distant glint in thebrown pools. Betty held up one finger, asking if he could watch it asshe moved. She moved her hand up and down, smiling when he followedalong, then left to right, frowning when he winced turning his headto the left slightly. She leaned forward, reaching a hand out andplacing her fingers tentatively behind his ear, pulling them awaywith sticky blood on them.

“Shit. You have acut on your head.” She sighed again, her arms shaking more now. “Weneed to get out of here. Wheres my phone.” She was franticallysearching the cap, only half aware of the pain in her side.

A shaky hand gentlylay atop her frail fingers, squeezing gently. Betty’s eyes shot upand over to FP’s, concern all over her face. “Are you hurting?Shit! Ok. Let me think.”

FP smiled, squeezingher hand once more. “Betty.” His voice was so small, so unlikethe booming voice of FP Jones, leader of the Southside Serpents andfather of one Jughead Jones. The sound sent a wave of pain throughBetty’s chest, her heart clenching painfully.

She blinked awaytears that threatened to spill over. She needed to be strong rightnow, crying would get nothnig done. Taking a deep breath, Bettysqueezes FP’s hand back, smiling at him. “What is it?”

“I’m hungry.”

Betty almost chokedon her tongue. A strangled sob escaped her lips as her shouldersshook from laughing.

“You aredefinitely Jughead’s dad.” She states quietly, laughter dyingdown. Taking another deep breath, she turns to FP once more. “Weneed to get out of the car. Can your door open?” FP turns slightly,pulling the handle vigorously, a sigh escaping his lips at the lackof movement. “Ok.” She looks around, eyes falling on the crackedrear windshield, almost impossible to see out of. “Don’t tellJuggie I did this.” FP opens his mouth, but closes it quickly,smiling with a nod. Betty moved between the seats, squeezing byeasily. Plopping down on the backseat, Betty takes a deep breath andshifts to place her feet flat on the glass. 

“Just pull backand kick up. With how broken it is, should be out in no time.” FPinstructs her, turning in his seat to watch.

Betty nods, pullingher legs back slightly before kicking them both forward.

Nothing happens.

Betty sighs, headfalling back.

FP reaches a handout, placing it on her shoulder. “Hey, relax. Deep breath.” Bettyfollows his instruction, inhaling and exhaling slowly. “Ok, now tryagain.”

Betty nods, flexingthe muscles in her calves as she pulls her legs back. With a littlemore force, she kicks her legs forward. A loud crackfills the air as she begins to push the shattered glass out of itsperch, still together butmore cracks forming quickly.

Thenit shattered completely.

Glassrained down on Betty’s small frame, scratching and embedding intoher limbs. A scream eruptedfrom her lips as blood began welling up on her multiple wounds.

“Betty!”FP cried out, cursing when he tried to move. “Betty you need tocalm down.” He reached a hand out, flinching when she cried outagain.

Shehad shielded her face from most of the damage, but her arms and legswere covered in small cuts, each stinging painfully. She tried tobreath through her nose, but every time she inhaled, a wave of painwould cascade through her veins. She was shaking her head, tearsflowing freely. “I can’t..”

“Betty,you need to.” FP’s hand reached out again, she didn’t flinchaway this time. “Betty we need to get out of here. You need to getup.” She was still shaking her head, sobs wracking her body inwaves. “Now listen here Mini Cooper. We need to get out of here andlet Jug know we’re ok.”

Thesound of Jughead’s name pulled her back to reality. Sniffling, sheturned her head to look up at FP. He was smiling down at her, eyesbright.

“Youwouldn’t wanna worry him nowwould ya?”

Bettyshook her head, squeezed her eyes shut tight and inhales deeply.Exhaling, she opens her eyes and sits up slightly, gritting her teethagainst the pain. FP nods at her movement, whispering words ofcomfort and encouragement as she made her way to a sitting position,then up to a kneeling one. As she made her way to the now empty rearwindshield, she turned back to the older man, smiling at him.

“I’mgoing to get us out of here. Just give me 5 minutes, I’ll be rightback, ok?”

FPnodded, “I’m not going anywhere,” He looked down at his leg,then back up at her. “You got this girly.”

Bettynodded, disappearing from the wreckage of the vehicle. It was hercar, the one her parents helped pay off. It was a graduation gift forher. She thought back to earlier that day, when FP came over to helptune up the engine. He brought over his tools, and got to work rightaway. Jughead showed up earlier, but didn’t stay. “ImportantRegister business!” He had stated proudly, then stormed off in ahurry, leaving Betty and FP to their devices. A few hours had pastand the work was getting tiring, so the two had mutually agreed tohead over to Pops for some burgers to relax. They decided to takeBetty’s car to test it out.

Itwas on the way there that the other car showed up.

Itwas a black SUV, unmarked and windows tinted black. Very textbook badguy. Betty tried to ignore them, tried to reason with herself thatthey were just passing by.

Untilthey slammed into the side of her car.

FPshouted, telling her to keep driving. He pulled a small flip phonefrom his pocket, dialing quickly and pulling it to his ear. He spokequickly when the recipient answered, hushed tone and code words.

Bettywould’ve thought she was in a spy movie if she was in a right stateof mind.

Steppingon the gas a little, the car sped up. But the SUV quickly caught up,slamming into the side again. Betty cried out at the impact, carswerving hard.

Thenit veered hard to the left, putting a sizable distance between thetwo vehicles. Betty sighed with relief, sparing a glance at the manbeside her.

“Ithink they’re gone.” She said, fingers tapping against thesteering wheel idly.

FPsighed, shoving the phone back in his left pocket. Then he swore.“Betty watch out!”

Aloud crash echoed through Betty’s core, her body jerking to theside as the SUV side slammed into the side of her small car. Thesheer difference in size contributed to Betty’s car being thrown tothe side, into the ditch. The wheels kept turning as they descendeddown the hill from the roadside, Betty stomping her foot on the brakepedal with no prevail.

Theneverything went black.

Thatmust’ve been when they hit the tree. It wasn’t a head on crash,more of the passenger side getting the brunt of damage and impact.Betty started shaking once more as she continued to survey the scene.Bits and pieces of her car were spread around, visible tire treadsascended uphill from the road. Betty took a deep breath, shaking herhead and wringing out her hands.

“Ok.We got this.”

Anhour later and Betty could hear the telltale ringing of sirensapproaching. She was seated on the side of the road, picking grass asshe waited. After flagging down a stranger and getting them to callthe police, Betty had retreated back to the wreckage. She told FP theparamedics were on route and he just needed to sit and wait, so hestarted telling her stories about anything and everything. Jughead’scrazy antics as a child, Jellybean’s attachment to Jughead, familytraditions they no longer take part in because their family isn’tall together.

45minutes past when Betty decided to go wait on the road so they knewwhere to stop. As they neared her, they shut off the sirens, no doubtaware of how ear splitting they were up close. One cop got out first,quickly asking Betty a few questions.

Wherewas the passenger?

Washe conscious and stable?

Wasshe ok?

Whathappened?

Whenthe initial questions were done with he handed her off with a medic,a nice lady with soft brown eyes. She was in the midst of gettingbandages on her legs when a car door slammed and foot stepsapproached the ambulance quickly.

Jugheadappeared from around the door, tears streaking down his face as hecaught sight of her. Without a word, he ran forward, pulling her intohis arms.

“Whenthey called me I was so scared.” His voice was muffled in her hair,arms shaking as he sobbed. Betty remained silent, unsure of what tosay. So she wrapped her arms around his waist and waited. A fewmoments passed as he silently sobbed into her hair, whispering sweetnothings to her. Once he pulled away, eyes puffy and bloodshot, themedic went back to bandaging up the rest of Betty’s injuries.

“I’mok Jug. I promise.” Betty’s hand was cupping his face, thumbrubbing away the tears.

“Thislittle lady is doing just fine.” The female medic piped up. “Shealso saved the other victims life.”

Jughead’sface snapped to hers, horror crossing his face. “Shit. How is he?”He spun on his heel, quickly making his way to the other ambulance.Betty decided to stay put, letting father and son deal with the wavesof emotions attacking them.

20minutes passed before Jughead made his way back to Betty, who wasseated on the back of the ambulance covered in a fire blanket. Shewas talking idly to the medic, making small talk till they couldtransport FP to the nearest hospital.

Jughead stood in front of her, mouth opening and closing. Then he dropped tohis knees, head on her lap as sobs shook his body once more. “Yousaved his life.” He kept repeating it. Like a mantra to keep himsane. Then he quickly grabbed her hand, kissing it a bunch.

“Yousaved my dads life, so I owe you mine.” Betty flushed at theinsinuation, but stayed silent. He kissed each of her fingers,lingering on her left hand for a few extra seconds.

“Juggie?”Betty called out to him, hand running through his matted hair. “Whatswrong?”

Hesighed into her hand, looking up at her with piercing blue eyes.“Betty Cooper. Will you marry me?”

[lostherlemons]

BIG gay post about how my girlfriend i came to be: laura version

i wanna make my own post like that but i don’t know if i could properly convey everything because oftentimes words can’t really do my experience justice. but like. that made me relive everything from my point of you and i can very tangibly feel affection and happiness bubbling up within the depths of my stomach and i gotta spill it out. i just gotta.

for those of you that didn’t know me beforehand bc you followed me from robin or just generally followed me sometime in the last half year or so, my relationship before robin was very very bad. the entire thing was kind of a giant guilt trip where i got emotionally manipulated for months until I succumbed to dating the guy (and being sexual with him when i Was Not Ready) and it was often miserable- but due to the toxic nature of the situation and my inability to assert myself in a way that he could take seriously, the relationship lasted for a pretty long time and took me a good 7 months to finally break up with him. I’ll leave it at that because it’s not the focus and explaining it isn’t a fun experience.

I’m hesitant to start the story like this because it seems so negative but like. It’s important for the context because the aftermath of what he put me through lasted a long time. we broke up probably exactly a year ago but i was reeling and recovering for a very long time and it made me very bitter towards romance in general and very much a skeptic (which robin turned right back around). but anyway. now for the happy part!

robin and i met, as they said, on their 18th birthday at a lgbt ice cream social. my very first distinct memory is of robin being part of the group i was talking to at the time and in a very cute moment, got me to guess what age they were. i guessed 20+ and was wrong and robin was very pleased that they came off so mature to me. we generally stuck together after that through the event (after sharing Tumblrs and such), which i didn’t think much of at the time because I was in the prior relationship still and i was just having a good time with my friends!! eventually we decided to ditch the place and hang out at friends apartment but robin was very new to the Bellingham scene and wasn’t sure about taking the bus and stuff and got left behind. I felt very bad because I was driving everyone and could have easily transported robin without the bus and such. I agonized over it for a long time!! It was very silly of me but I spent a lot of time wishing we could have hung out more than just that night.

We of course had a long period of just being Silently Supportive mutuals and never got to hang out. I remember them staying in school over the summer and wanting VERY BADLY to hang out but not being sure how to go about it because I’m awkward and didn’t know Rob that well. Over the summer we ended up interacting, and low-key commenting and stuff, and it was good. At a certain point I remember thinking Robin was cute. Immediately after this realization I kinda figured out I was in for a shitshow in crush town.

I spent most of September with a big huge growing crush. Every time robin even POSTED a selfie I got so excited! They were so cute!!! At a certain point I was aware of my crush and COULD NOT SHUT UP ABOUT IT. Every time robin even liked my post I would gush about it nonstop to @funkadacious and you can ask him because I would never shut up and stop sending him their cute selfies. Somewhere in the midst of all this, in an interaction during robin’s fai blogging, i reassured them that they were pretty and robin IMMEDIATELY AND SHOCKINGLY admitted they thought i was hot upon first meeting me and i lost my shit, died, and descended unto gay heaven all while continuing to flirt back and forth for a bit.

I could not believe it. ROBIN. THE ONE I COULD NOT SHUT UP ABOUT. THOUGHT I WAS HOT AND WAS FLIRTING WITH ME. WHAT. AM I DREAMING. WHAT IS HAPPENING. you can imagine.

when school started in late september, i posted a few VERY INTENTIONALLY FLATTERING AND CUTE SELFIES, literally only so that i could passively grab more attention from robin. who reblogged them and made me feel very nice.

now, when my year-long depressive episode got to a bad spot in october, robin surprised me by offering to hang out because I probably needed someone to talk to. I of course said yes (all while gushing to nick, casey, all my classmates in theatre class, and literally any coworker that would listen including my poor boss who still hears this all the time) and spent the next few days in a giddy excitement until meeting robin for coffee after my theatre class.

i was dizzy upon seeing them sitting at that last table in the cafe. this was real and robin was there, VERY CUTE and in person for the first time in over a year, and they were waiting for me. ME. WHAT. i got a coffee and a pastry to share and sat down.

We talked for hours and hours and hours. About art, school, growing up, mental health, everything. I remembered how robin talked fast when they were excited and thought it was adorable. Eventually the sun started to set and it reflected in their eyes and I literally had to pause the conversation to admit I could not stop staring at how beautiful they were. Eventually my mom called me and i didn’t have the nerve to tell her I was getting coffee with my crush but eventually she hung up and soon after the dreaded question popped up.

“So. Im kinda wondering. Is this a… uh.. a date? Or like a friend thing? Or both..? I’m just curious, anything is fine.”

“Oh! UH. IT… CAN BE WHATEVER YOU WANT IT TO BE…..”

“Okay! It’s a date then.”

Cue me dying. At the end of said date, robin asked if a hug was ok (right after I made the best pun of my life about kissing) and it was VERY okay and I clung for dear life and it was wonderful.

The weekend after this, I was traveling internationally during what was hyped up to be a VERY BIG STORM to get up to canada for @limes-and-kiwis birthday. I was told by many Not to go, but I’m a stubborn fuck. Robin texted me and was VERY FLIRTATIOUS when I was on my way up saying I had to stay safe! For our second date!! And this text made me so excited I literally had to stop by my work on my way up and show the text to my manager and I was dead!!!!

i of course made it safely and had a wonderful time with casey. Me, being gay, at one point had to go through robin’s selfie tag to show Casey, and I passed her my phone. Immediately after i had the realization that my best friend was an untrustworthy wingman and I was a dead man. I of course get my phone back with EVERY SELFIE OF ROBINS FOR THE LAST YEAR, LIKED, and of course casey is extremely proud of herself and smug as all hell. Me, being mortified, of course had to send a very embarrassing “IT WASN’T ME STALKING THROUGH YOUR PHOTOS I CAN EXPLAIN” message to robin over snapchat, which opened a new can of worms and was a cue for MUCH MUCH MORE FLIRTING.

we of course went on a second date after I got back, and also ran into eachother at the grocery store a few days later which I gave robin a ride home from and got a kiss on the cheek. I was grinning for hours afterwards and my boss made fun of me.

eventually at the party with robin’s friends, I flirted A LOT and we were very affectionate and at one point a friend said we very very cute and asked how long we had been dating. We looked at eachother and I was like “ok so this is official? We’re gfs?? Yeah?” And robin agreed and we were OFFICIAL. GFS. THE ONES YOU KNOW AND LOVE. and the rest of the night was very very good and cuddly and I was the happiest I had been in a while.

the relationship really only got better and better from there. Robin is SO supportive and so loving and smart and I adore them so so much. They make me feel safe and appreciated and I can only hope I do the same. Robin touched on A Lot in their post and described things better than I ever could but like. It’s true. Everything is just… better.

robin’s February Thing was also accompanied by Laura’s February Thing, and so we both had very bad brains at the time and being silly, had a hard time reaching out. But the next day when I found out what was going on, I had a moment of clarity. Sure I was terrified of reaching out, and being rejected, or having a fight, but I realized I couldn’t risk losing what I have with robin. It’s grown to be everything to me and i knew I had to see them no matter what and I did and it was so healing and good and I’ll never regret just marching across campus to their dorm.

but anyway. This got long. Basically I’m very much in love and will never shut up about it. @flovvright is the light of my life and every moment I spend with robin is perfect. Because we fit so perfectly together and it’s just… It’s good. It’s real good. I never thought I’d be at this point and it constantly amazes me. I don’t know what else to say but rest assured there’s a lot left unsaid and I just want my girlfriend to know how much they mean the absolute world to me and how they just consistently make my life a better life no matter how hard things get.

[ill-skillsgard]

I didn't know I had a thing for neglected husbands but all I can think about now is how Henry is a little bit too loud in bed and how he wants to do so kinky stuff because his wife never wanted to do it. And how he is so thankful to his mistress that he spoils her rotten with flowers, jewelry and expensive lingerie and mistress have never been with a guy (probably never been with a man in that way Henry is) that show his affection so much.

Read more Henry x Mistress here

Maybe I will create some kind of masterpost for this series of imagines. But it shan’t be this night! 

18+ below the cut.

The journey was as long as it was swift. Anticipation overloaded the hours with panic, and you couldn’t sleep. There were too many checkpoints between you and a taxi that Henry ordered to pick you up from the airport. There was no time to enjoy a meal or check out the scenery. All you got to see was the sky, clouds and the city as it whizzed by in the back of a cab.You clutched your phone to your chest. It was a ticking time bomb, and every vibration was another reminder that the countdown was on and when it got to zero, Henry would greet you at the door to his hotel room.

Nevermind you were in a different country. Nevermind you were in Paris. There was only one thing making your heart race hard that the thought of rest couldn’t have been further from your concern.

Henry pulled open the door before you had a chance to knock. He had been waiting and peering out the peephole to catch you coming out of the elevator and down the carpeted hallway.

Your bag got caught in the doorway, an afterthought much like the fact that you had flown over ten hours to get to him. It didn’t matter that you stumbled out of your shoes and into his arms, or that the door accidentally slammed shut behind you.

It was a frenzy to kiss each other and to satiate a mutual appetite that had been fed nothing but fine kindling in the form of lightly suggestive messages exchanged over the last couple of weeks. When he had his hands on you, travelling down your hips, fingers threading through your hair, it felt like no time had passed since the last time you were together like this. All the guilt and malice melted away and you gave yourself over to him.

But more than that… Henry gave himself over to you. The ring was already gone, tucked away somewhere so he might forget about it for a night or two. The sting of the gold didn’t touch your back when he rubbed your skin and tugged off your shirt. It didn’t remind you when he had his palms fully encompassing your breasts, squeezing and moaning as he licked one nipple and sucked the supple flesh like he was trying to draw liquid from the other.

He pulled back for a moment and seethed. His mouth was swollen, lips red and cheeks flushed. He wanted to look at your face so he could fully enjoy kissing it. He had satiated himself only for a moment and needed to look at what he had found himself fixated upon since the moment he saw you working at the little hotel cafe back home.

“I want you to fuck me like you’ve never wanted to fuck anyone more.”

“That’ll be easy,” you said with a smile. “I’ve never wanted anybody as much as I want you.”

Henry bent at the knees so he could squeeze your bottom in both of his hands, devouring your mouth again until you reached the edge of the fluffy bed decked with pillows and the most luxuriously white duvet you had ever seen.

“I need to ask you something,” he said as he urged you onto the bed.

“Yes?” You answered, leaning back so he could bend down and start running his hands up your legs and under your skirt.

“Are you open to letting me… Uh… Um,” Henry paused to laugh at himself, cheeks blazing bashfully. “Can I just be open with you? Will you let me?”

“What do you mean, Henry? Of course, you can be open with me.”

He melted a little and rested his cheek on your thigh, lamenting the last time he felt something close to what he was experiencing at that moment. It pained him to think he had never felt so passionately about anything before but drove him to open his eyes to register the reality. He was feeling something extraordinary, and the way you looked down at him and ran your fingers through his hair made him shiver.

“Even if what I’m thinking is really, really dirty?”

You had to hold your head up to keep from melting underneath the kisses he pressed to your legs.

“You can be as sick and dirty as you want, no one will stop you here,” you told him.

“Good,” he planted a sloppy kiss on your left thigh. “Good… ‘Cause I want to taste you. I wanna taste that sweet pussy and make you come all over my face. Then I’m going to fuck you until you come again. Mmm, I promise I’ll have you coming all over my cock.”

“I can’t wait to feel that nice big cock inside of me… Sir.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Henry groaned. “Please say that again.”

His reaction had been even better than what you had hoped for. You wondered if his wife had ever given him the power before but it seemed unlikely based on what he had told you of her. You wanted to make him see he was desireable. You wanted to make him feel like he deserved to have his needs met, exceeded and even taken advantage of. He went into this as a new man, hungry for everything that you would give him. And that night you gave him whatever twisted little desire he could ever think of.

“Oh, Mr. Deaver… All I’ve been thinking about is how badly I want you to ruin my pussy. I’ve never seen a cock that big before.”

There was truth in your statement. Henry was tall and all the stereotyped accoutrements that supposedly came with being a man of his stature were accounted for. You switched tracks and sat up, your skirt falling back down over your thighs. Henry gave you some room to drag him up by the collar of his shirt so he was standing before you as you sat on the edge of the bed, squeezing your breasts together for him to lick his lips at.

His erection pressed against the front of his pants, caged by a belt and some slacks that did him no favours in concealing the prominent arousal. You kissed at the material stretched over his shaft and felt the strong pulse of blood coursing down to fill him out.

“Mr. Deaver… What are you waiting for? Don’t you want me to suck your cock?”You watched as he bit his lip from on high. “God, yes. Yes, I want you to suck my… My cock. Fuck.”

He was holding back. He wanted to let go completely, but there were a few stitches left keeping him from allowing carnality to overtake. You didn’t want him to hold back because you didn’t want to either. So you tugged his belt from the buckle and opened the button of his pants all while staring up at him like, parched and desperate.

Before you could tug his trousers down and get to his underwear, he framed your face and bent down to kiss you long and hard.

“Maybe you’d like a word that you can say so that if it hurts, I’ll know.”

You couldn’t help but melt. His concern for you was endearing, and you smiled to humour him.

“I want you to make it hurt, big boy. Use me.”

“Fuck, you have such a dirty mouth.”

“What are you going to do to it, sir?”

Henry was reeling by how snappy you were with your responses. You pulled him close by the waistband of his pants and he helped by pushing them down. His day-old white shirt floated about his waist until you fiddled with the first button you could reach. He made the process quicker by undoing the rest so he could shrug out of the garment.

“Open up,” he whispered.

You spread your legs, let your tongue roll out of your mouth and waited for him to pull his underwear down. His cock sprang out, and he delighted in how quickly you latched onto the tip with your puckered lips.

“Oh, you’re so damn cute. So eager to suck my dick. I love it.”

You hummed around him before taking a deep breath in through your nose and trying to sink as much of him into your mouth that would fit. When he touched the back of your throat, he moaned and tilted your head up more so he could get a better look at you.

But Henry didn’t want you below him for long. You could tell that he was antsy to get back to being able to fondle every inch of you. He loved the way it felt with your lips wrapped tightly around his cock, but there were so many better things he wanted to do with your mouth. He withdrew his hips, beckoned you up and guided you back onto the center of the bed, coming up between your open legs.

“You don’t understand how fucking hard I get when I think about being inside that pussy again. It’s so damn tight, baby. I’ve really missed it.”

“How tight, bad boy? Keep telling me how bad you want my pussy.”

“Tighter than anything… Fuck… Tighter than hers.”

Henry reached up and tugged your panties down to your knees, taking the material between his teeth to help you slide out of them. When he gazed between your legs, his cheeks turned pink. Brushing his own hair back, he sent his other hand between your thighs, the pad of his thumb gliding between your pussy lips.

“Tighter… Mmph, wetter…” He murmured. “Cutest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

“Fuck me, mister. Please. I want it bad,” you culled him in with one leg until he was nearly toppling over you.

With his right hand wrapped around the hilt of his shaft, he spread his own knees further apart to align himself. Henry watched every last millimetre of his length squeeze past your luscious opening with the edge of his teeth cutting into his bottom lip. A continuous purr left him as he enjoyed the first seconds of soaking in your wet heat. You could almost count the goosebumps popping up all over his arms and legs as he bathed in the warm pressure.

“Good God,” he moaned. “It fits so nice.”

You did him a favour and used your legs to push your hips up, closing the gap between your pelvises and then pulling away again. He watched you stirring your hips with a look of utter amazement weighing his jaw down.

“You’re amazing… Oh, sweet Jesus. Oh, fuck that’s good. That looks so good.”

Heaven descended on the disharmonious stars in his mismatched eyes and a flash of his white teeth made it look like he was in a dream. He clamped his hands around your hips and met one of the deep undulations you had been giving him. It struck a chord inside that sent a shock through your core. You answered with a gasp and drew him back out from under his veil of ecstasy.

“Make sure you tell me if it hurts.”

“It does hurt, but I like it. Please, sir. Don’t stop fucking me.”

“Christ,” he scoffed.

You pulled him in again with one leg hooked around his hip. He held your other leg up by your knee, spreading you apart so he could see what your pussy looked like all full of him. It was all the motivation he needed to forget about having any semblance of manners. He wanted to fuck dirty and speak his mind. You made it okay, and he ran with it.

The night was balmy and brave. Henry lost himself in the possibilities, never settling on fucking you in any single position. He needed to try them all and your ardency made him forget who he was for a while. And you forgot, too. Nothing existed past the tepid little bubble that both your bodies shared.

Sweat broke early on and continued to dampen the covers as the minutes of passion slipped away. Not-so-gentlemanly words left his mouth at an impressive rate while he feasted on your flesh and left rose-red splotches surrounding your nipples and down your sternum. He even spent some time kissing your tummy and nuzzling into you like you were made of pure velvet and down.

And he could never get enough of the taste between your legs. The tip of his tongue fluttered over your clit, lips enclosing the sweet spot for a short suckle. He shuddered from the sounds you made when he tongued your pussy and moaned into your skin. He even giggled a few times after you had squealed from the attention.

“I want to taste this pussy every day,” he whispered. “Tomorrow… You’re my breakfast. Then I’m going to take you out. And I’m going to fuck you before my meeting. And again when I get back… After you change into the lingerie we’re going to pick out for you.”

“Henryyy,” you whined.

“No questions asked,” he said before delving into you again with his tongue.And that was his final decision. With the brickwork laid, you knew he wouldn’t allow you to refuse. He hadn’t with the plane ticket and he wouldn’t let you say no to him now or the next day or the next.