#watching that back to back with totally spies opened my mind as a little teenager

[tropicalfreckles]

What's New Scooby Doo making Daphne's knowledge and accessories for make up and fashion cool ways to help solve cases with the gang was peak and I'm glad they introduced that to the series.

[sunshineseung]

Journal Part 6 // Jeongin

🍄 | genre: smut ☁️ | pairing: Yang Jeongin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 6.8k 🌸 | includes: milf!reader x babysitter!college student!jeongin, “mommy/ma’am”, pretty vanilla sex actually, oral (receiving & giving), doggy style, creampie/unprotected sex, [spoilers from here on] ... okay, changbin x reader, oral (receiving), nonconsensual exhisibionism /voyeurism (jeongin spies on y/n without her knowing), start of a threesome, slight cucking? jeongin watches again but this time it’s known

🌊 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Finale |

“You guys have been in relationships before, right?” Jeongin was way too nervous about this considering he was just talking to his friends over Discord. “Can I ask something?”

“Sure, knock yourself out.” Hyunjin sounded so cool over his mic despite being way too interested in the youngest’s love life. Jeongin has been obviously lovesick for the past several weeks, and despite vaguely mentioning this mystery girl he was with, he’d never actually dropped too much information about her… or in this case, you. “We’re all ears.”

“How do I get a girl to like me back?” Jeongin’s slight pout could practically be heard through the call. The other boys go quiet trying to think of a proper response.

“Have you tried talking to her?” Jisung speaks first, asking an all-too essential question. Jeongin briefly explains the situation as vaguely as possible, leaving out the whole ‘mother-of-two’ thing. The other four older boys listen intently, mentally planning how they’re going to get their youngest friend laid. 

“Just tell her how you really feel, bro!” Felix’s smile could be heard through the call, his usual happy energy lifting the mood of everyone listening. “You have nothing to lose!”

“Well, you have a lot to lose, but it’ll be worth a shot,” Seungmin says, sighing out of boredom. “If she already sort of likes you, then you just have to make her stay.”

“Make her stay?” Jeongin pauses to think, “what do you mean?” 

“If you really want this girl, then you have to give her a reason to want to be with you for more than just sex or whatever. She has to enjoy your company. Don’t be afraid to show your flaws, either. Just be endearing, although you’re already good at that.”

“Thanks Seungmin! I’ll try that!” 

“Or do what Hyunjin did and knock her up,” Jisung laughs, his chair squeaking loud enough to be picked up by the microphone. Everyone else joins Jisung in laughter except Hyunjin, who’s about to drive over to Jisung’s house and beat the shit out of him for bringing that up.

“I’m gonna kick your ass, Jisung!”

“You and what army?” 

“I’ll help you kick his ass,” Seungmin says as he laughs with an exhale through his nose. Following Seungmin, Jeongin also agrees to beat up Jisung with his friends. 

“Fuck you guys,” Jisung laughs, the rather serious conversation turning into the boys having a laughing fit. “But for real, Jeongin, I think Seungmin’s right. Just get her to stay.” 

“Alright, I’ll try my best.” Jeongin’s smile on his face is light, but he’s truly thankful for his friends at this moment. Despite all the teasing, he really loves his hyungs. “Is there anything else I can do?” 

“Girls love when you buy them things. Get her flowers or something,” Hyunjin says, sounding confident as ever. “My girlfriend always loves it when I buy her gifts.”

“Flowers? Girls actually like flowers? I thought that was a joke…” Jeongin feels like he’s been fooled his entire life. He has so much to learn! 

“Hyunjin usually gets his girl plan B-“ and with that, Hyunjin muted Jisung in the Discord voice chat. Before Jisung notices he’s been muted, Jeongin thanks the boys and leaves, ready to go out and get some flowers in the morning. 

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

Jeongin stands at your doorstep, checking his shirt for stains one last time before knocking on your door. He hears you mumble something on the other side as he’s about to sweat through his shirt. When you swing open the door, Jeongin looks cute as a button in a pink button-up short sleeve shirt and jeans. In his hands is a small bouquet of yellow tulips. His smile makes your heart warm as you invite him inside. 

“These are for you, Y/n! I thought I’d get you something nice on your day off.” He sounded too chipper to be okay. You’ve never seen Jeongin beaming like this, especially before you’ve done anything to him. He hands you the tulips and watches you put them in a vase as he takes a seat on a stool at your kitchen island. “Do you like them?”

“I love them, baby. Thank you so much.” You brush his hair back and kiss his forehead, bringing him into a big hug. As you let go, you run your hand down his arm and sit in the stool next to his. “The girls are in school right now. Why’d you come over?” 

“I just wanted to hang out,” he says with a smile. 

“I’m 30 years old, Jeongin. I don’t ‘hang out’.” You laugh at him a bit, seeing a pout form on his lips. “But I’ll hang out with you if you really want.” 

��Great! I mean…” Jeongin struggles to start a conversation. “What have you been doing today?” 

“I got the girls ready and drove them to preschool, then I cleaned a bit. Really I’ve just been watching TV.” Jeongin nods as you speak, paying attention to every word. “What about you? I assume you woke up at noon.” 

“Not true!” He whines, “11 o’clock, actually.” 

“Ah, how brave.” You chuckle at your own joke. “You look so cute in that shirt, you know?” 

“Oh- thank you, m-... Y/n.” He almost let his kink slip by calling you mommy, but he quickly fixes his mistake. His face gets bright red from your complements, his heart fluttering in the process. “You look nice as well!” 

Unlike Jeongin, you didn’t get dressed up for this surprise visit. Your hair was a mess, and you wore no bra, only a loose tee shirt you got from a concert when you were a teenager. The shorts you wore were stained with bleach. You looked like a damn mess in every sense of the word. The fact that Jeongin could find beauty in any of that was mind boggling. 

“You want a drink, honey? I got water and little boxes of apple juice.” As tempting as the apple juice was, Jeongin settles for water. As you get the drinks, Jeongin takes out his phone to text his friends. 

🍓🍀🍯.

The Boys 🥶

Jeongin: I’m blowing it.

Hyunjin: wtf did you mean? You got her flowers! Did you compliment her?

Jeongin: yeah I told her she looked nice but now she looks bored!!! :(((( 

Jisung: slap her ass 

Seungmin: Please don’t do that.

Hyunjin: are you sitting on a couch?

Jeongin: what? no? are we supposed to be?

Hyunjin: so you can put your arm around her!

Jeongin: ohhhh okay 

Felix: just be nice to her! no girl can resist your charms! 

Jisung: make her food! 

Seungmin: Listen to what she has to say. Make sure it’s not all about you. 

Jeongin: shut up she’s coming back 

Hyunjin: don’t blow this young my padawan 

Jisung: young what? 

Hyunjin: nevermind ㅜㅜ

🍓🍀🍯.

“Let’s go sit on the couch!” Jeongin hops out of his stool as you hand him his water, already walking towards your living room. Shrugging, you follow him and lounge back where this whole relationship started. 

“So, how are your classes going?” You turn slightly to face him, watching him calculate his next move. 

“They’re alright, but you’ve heard enough about me. I want to know more about you.” His voice lowers on the second sentence as he leans forward and puts his arm around your shoulders. Your reaction could almost be classified as a cringe, getting flashbacks to every time Minho would do that to you when you first started dating. “Sorry, was that too slimy?” 

“Yes, very slimy.” You laugh at how Jeongin described his move, him leaning away from you back to his corner of the sofa. “What do you want to know about me, love?” 

“Well,” if he’s being totally honest, Jeongin didn’t expect to get this far, “what’s your… favorite color?”

You roll your eyes, “really?” 

“Yes, really.” 

“My favorite color is blue, Jeongin.” He nods as if it was an incredibly interesting and complex story, which makes him look like such a clown, but you don’t have the balls to say that to his face. “Are you sure you came over here just to hang out?” 

“What do you mean?” Of course he knows what you mean. Your entire relationship was based off of sex. How could he not know?

“Don’t act naive, baby boy. You know exactly what I mean.” You straddle his lap in an instant, kissing him on the lips like you’ve wanted to since he walked in the door. 

He pushes you away by your chest, his breaths already heavy from the most minimal action. “I really want to fuck you, I do, but I… I don’t want it like this.” 

You pause before quickly hopping off his lap just as quick as you hopped on. “What do you want then, Jeongin?” 

“Can we have sex without all the… stuff?” Jeongin looks like he could cry at any moment, not out of sadness, but just from the anxiety rattling through him. “No power dynamics or kinks. Just… sex.” 

“Just sex?” You smile at how cute he sounded when he said that. “Anything you want, sweetheart.” 

“Thank you… you can get back on my lap now.” You both giggle as you climb back on his lap, the constant movements making you feel older than you really are from your muscles getting sore too soon. His lips soon meet yours again, and his hands are on your waist, hesitantly moving up and down your sides. 

You grind down onto him, feeling his cock harden underneath of you. As you press your hips down harder, his hands squeeze your skin and he whimpers on your mouth. You smile against his lips, excited for what’s to come. 

His lips kiss down from your mouth to your neck, licking and nipping at the skin. You hiss as he bites down on a particularly sensitive area, a bruise surely being left in his wake. Your hands go into his hair as his hands grip your hips, pulling you down onto his bulge. 

“Let me undress you, babe.” You tap his back with one hand and let him lean up from your neck, laying back into the couch for you to unbutton his shirt and reveal his toned chest. His physique never failed to amaze you. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

“I could say the same about you.” His eyes are glued to your tits, him licking his lips as you push his shirt off of his shoulders and eventually off of his body. Just as he’s about to take your shirt off, his phone rings from his back pocket. “I should answer that.” 

“Go ahead.” You grind slightly onto him as he looks at the phone screen. You assume it’s one of his friends from school considering the emojis following the contact name. 

“Hey Hyunjin! Can I call y- yeah, it’s going great, can I call- oh my god, we can talk later, bye!” He hangs up and tosses his phone to the coffee table. “Sorry, he wanted to know how my date was going.” 

“Oh, so this was a date the whole time? Well you should have said so!” You kiss his cheek and lower to your knees, your hands resting on his upper thighs. “I would have started sucking you off a long time ago.” 

Jeongin bites his lip as you unzip his pants and pull them down his legs, his cock hard under his tight briefs. Your hand runs across his erection, teasing him just enough to make him whine. He scoots up to the edge of the couch and lifts his hips so you can pull his underwear off, finally revealing his perfect cock. 

“Relax, babe. You look so tense.” You look up at Jeongin, making eye contact as he perks up at your words. He leans back into the couch again, putting his hands at his sides as raising his hips to your face, urging you to take care of him. You harshly spit into your hand and wrap it around his shaft, stroking him just around the tip. In an instant, Jeongin throws his head back and lets you take him. 

As much as you want to praise him for being such a good boy right now, you take your time and silence yourself with his cock in your mouth. Your tongue runs over his slit before your lips wrap around him, your head bobbing in sync with your hand’s strokes. Jeongin is absolutely blissed out above you, feeling like all of his troubles are melting away. 

“I- I don’t want to cum just yet.” Jeongin digs his nails into the fabric of the cushion beneath him. “I want to eat you out.”

You pull your mouth off of his cock with a ‘pop’ before standing up, Jeongin’s eyes opening just in time to see you toss your shirt off, soon followed by the dropping of your pants and underwear. You stood in front of him, naked, your figure being figuratively eaten up by his eyes. 

“Can we go into your room?” Jeongin stands up with you and takes your hand in his, waiting for you to give the okay. Of course, you nod and allow him to lead you to your own bedroom in a bizarre twist. “Lay back on the bed, babe.”

Hearing Jeongin call you babe is just the cherry on top of this odd situation. 

Nevertheless, you follow his orders for once and lay on your bed, spreading your legs as he pins you beneath him, his cock dangling hard against your core. His hands grope your tits and pinch your nipples as he makes out with you, getting his saliva all around your mouth.

This feels like a different Jeongin, or at least, certainly not one you’ve met before. He’s more mature, taking action, directing you! As much as you love being his mommy, you also adore this side of him more than you were expecting. 

In a hurry, he moves his body down the bed and wraps his arms around your thighs, kissing your clit before sucking on the bundle of nerves. Your back arches fast, toes curling as one hand leaves your thigh and goes to your dripping cunt. He inserts two fingers inside you, pumping them and curling them at a slow pace. His tongue makes circles around your clit. You arch your back as he quickened his pace on both his fingers and his tongue. Looking down at Jeongin, his eyes are dark, looking off into the void as he focuses on only the actions of his mouth and hands. 

“Feel so good, baby~” You whine, one of your hands going down to his hair while your other plays with your hardened nipples. Jeongin hums in response, the vibrations from his voice giving the slightest extra stimulation to your cunt. “Keep going, please.”

The ‘please’ leaves your lips so naturally, and yet Jeongin is still caught off guard from hearing you so whiny, begging for him. Now he’s determined to make you cum, not that he wasn’t already. 

Your toes curl and a moan slips from your lips as he sucks harshy on your clit, his tongue flicking against your bud in his mouth. His fingers still, curving up into your g-spot. Your own mind is begging you to cum if not for yourself then for Jeongin. You feel so close, yet your body refuses to release. 

You look down one more time, making direct eye contact with the boy. He’s been watching your face since you arched your back, patiently waiting and watching to see if you cum. He looks so painfully sexy with his head between your legs, your thighs pressed against the side of his head and his fingers are fucking your pussy and his teeth brush against your clit. That visual is all you needed. 

After what felt like eternity for Jeongin, your pussy tightened and your head was thrown back. Senseless and thoughtless moans of your lover’s name escaped your throat as you covered Jeongin’s fingers in your creamy release. He slowed down his movements enough to help you still ride out your high without being overstimulated too quickly. As you get your mind back, he pulls his face away, coming back up your body to hover over you with his arms at your sides. 

“Let me fuck you from behind.” Jeongin’s tone is hot. That’s the only way you can describe it. It’s a total 180 from the little boy who begged for you to let him cum not too long ago. “Get on your hands and knees for me, Y/n.”

You eagerly nod at his command, giving him time to get off of you while you turn around and stick your ass up. Jeongin takes a minute to marvel at your ass before joining you back on the bed, his cock hard sitting on your ass as he watches you lean down into the pillows, holding one close to your face. 

“Fuck,” Jeongin says under his breath, simply running his hands over your ass. You shake your ass a bit, urging him to finally fill your cunt with his cock. Getting the hint, he lines his tip with your dripping cunt and pushes himself in slowly, allowing you to adjust to every inch as if you haven’t literally pushed out two kids. 

“You feel so good, Jeongin~” Hearing you moan makes him moan as embarrassing as that sounds. You fit around his cock so well, taking him easily while still being tight. His hold on your hips moves up to your waist, his arms wrapping around you and his chest hitting your back. He feels so pathetic again, losing his grip on reality as he fucks your pussy. 

“You take me so well,” don’t fucking say it, “mommy.” Damn it. 

You bite your lip when you hear him say that special word, tightening around him as his thrusts get faster. He starts getting whiny, impatient, back to the Jeongin you’ve known. 

“Babe, cum inside me.” You start talking to get him back out of his head, trying to catch him before he slips into subspace. He kisses your back before leaning up again, his hands back on your hips, pulling you against his cock. “Please cum inside me.” 

“A-alright, Y/n. Anything for you!” He huffs and puffs, groaning and moaning, trying to desperately reach his high for his own sake. You clench your muscles around his cock, sucking him in and forcing his thrusts to become deep and slow. He starts to twitch, groaning your name until he finally butters, his cock shooting its load inside you. “Oh my god… fuck. So good.” 

He stops, slowly slipping his cock out of you as his cum drips down your pussy lips to the bed. Jeongin stares at the mess he made, disappointed in himself that he couldn’t make you cum on his cock again. He sighs and falls next to you on the bed, and you lower your ass and turn your body over to cuddle on his chest. 

“You did so well, baby. You really know how to please a lady, you know?” Your fingers trace vague shapes around his chest, your eyes gazing up into his. He looks exhausted from all the hard work he just did, but at least it paid off. “We should shower now.” 

Jeongin groans as if he’s annoyed, pushing his hair back off of his sweaty forehead. “I need to sleep right now.” 

“That’s fine, honey. I’m gonna shower then pick up the girls. You rest.” You get up and kiss his forehead before walking into your bathroom. 

When he hears your shower start, Jeongin sneaks out into the living room to grab his phone from his pocket so he could text his friends with a little update. 

🍓🍀🍯.

The Boys 🥶

Hyunjin: jeongin’s getting his dick sucked 

Jisung: ooooo 

Felix: i’m jealous

Hyunjin: Jeonginnie update us when you get back!!! 💋

Hyunjin: damn he’s getting his shit ROCKED 

Seungmin: Shut up omg

Felix: god I wish that we me 

Jisung: ew 

Jeongin: you guys are gross 

Hyunjin: THE KING IS BACK

Jisung: you didn’t knock her up, did you? 

Jisung: I hope you didn’t pull a Hyunjin 

Jisung: please don’t remove me from the chat 

Hyunjin: you’re on thin fucking ice young man 

Jisung: we’re literally the same age

Hyunjin: okay young man 

Hyunjin: anyway… 

Hyunjin: how was it Jeongin? You’re finally not a virgin anymore!  

Jeongin: I’ve fucked this girl before I just don’t think she wants to date me. I thought I said that before.

Jisung: oh shit 

Hyunjin: YOU LEFT OUT THAT VERY CRUCIAL DETAIL MR YANG JEONGIN! 

Jeongin: Oh my bad 

Hyunjin: MY BOY IS ALL GROWN UP 😭😭😭

Seungmin: They grow up so fast. 😢

Felix: did you just… leave her?

Jeongin: No way! She’s showering right now. I’m just tired. 

Jeongin: I think I fucked it up 

Jisung: I mean you fucked her up… but if you two fucked at all I think she’s fine 

Jeongin: but I tried to be more serious and mature and I wasn’t! I still make it… weird 

Seungmin: Please don’t go into details. I just ate.

Jisung: please go into details. i’m horny. 

Felix: ew!!!! 

Jeongin: What do I do now? I’m just at her house for the rest of the day I guess. 

Hyunjin: don’t you have to babysit for your neighbor tonight? 

Hyunjin: secure the bag little man!!! 

Jeongin: first of all, little man? 

Jeongin: second of all… I should go now lol BYEEEE

Hyunjin: Weird time to exit but okay 

Felix: Maybe he’s fucking his neighbor lmao 

Hyunjin: No way! Jeongin has game but not enough to pull a milf

Jeongin: lol 

🍓🍀🍯.

You get dressed in your bedroom before walking out to the living room to find Jeongin mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Kids these days.

“I thought you were tired?” Jeongin just laughs without responding. You get your keys by the door and start to head out. “You better be dressed by the time I come back with the girls! 15 minutes!” 

“Yes ma’am!” Although he says it jokingly, it sounds like something he’d say to you regularly in another setting. You say goodbye before getting in your car and driving off to pick up your two lovely daughters. 

When you come back with your kids, Jeongin is most importantly cleaned up and fully clothed, but also ready to watch them as you go to work. Unfortunately for him, you had to be kept overtime, so he was going to be at your house longer than expected. The day with the girls flies by, but after he puts them to sleep, Jeongin becomes bored out of his mind. 

In true Jeongin fashion, he pulls out his journal and a pencil, ready to write whatever comes to mind. For the first time in forever, though, he can’t come up with anything. He knows what he wants to do with you, but he can’t bring himself to write it. It feels too... real. 

He reads back on what he’s written in the past, sighing as he realizes that his fantasies have either been fulfilled or painfully unrealistic. Jeongin really thought there was more to his journal, but the repetition of his imagination becomes evident after the third time he reads about how he wants to be spanked. 

Putting his Journal back in his bag, he leans back on the couch. He didn’t even get hard from reading his journal entries! Either his dick is broken or he no longer needs his journal, which sounds ridiculous, even to him, but after thinking for a moment alone, he starts to believe with you in his life, Jeongin doesn’t need to write what he fantasizes about; he just needs you. 

After watching your kids for you as you work overtime, Jeongin is way too tired to not sleep in his own bed. You kiss him goodbye after you check on your kids, sending him off with a warm feeling in his heart. 

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

You started working in this office early last year, and since you started working here, there was one man that would always come over to your desk to chat with you. Obviously, it was always friendly, mature banter with no hidden meaning or ulterior motive. You two were simply coworkers and nothing more. 

That was until he asked you on a date. He was never flirty until he asked you out, so it kind of came out of left field. Still, he’s hot, you can’t deny that. You’d be a fool to say no to his offer. You planned it for a Saturday night when both of you were free, and Jeongin was happy to watch your kids for a “business meeting”. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was a date. Being a teenage boy, you were certain he would lash out and get mad at you for being an adult. And you didn’t want to break his heart. Although you’re going to be holding it off, you have to tell him eventually that you were seeing other people, and you know that. At least for now, for your sake and his sake, this is a secret you keep to yourself. 

After saying goodbye to your daughters and Jeongin, you head out to your date’s car parked right out front. He’s standing at the passenger side door holding it open to you. He takes your hand to help you step into his SUV. 

“You look absolutely lovely, Y/n.” His suit hugged his chest and arms perfectly, and you almost felt underdressed even in your evening cocktail dress that you felt made you look old. 

“Thank you, Changbin. You look amazing yourself.” You laugh to each other, chatting back and forth about work and life as he drives you to the restaurant. The entire ride there, his hand is playfully resting on your thigh. While the tension is low, you can still feel it. You haven’t done anything sexual with Jeongin for a few days, so this will be refreshing for sure. 

Changbin leads you into the restaurant, a reserved table waiting for you two as you walk in. The food is expensive, just as you expected, but he’s happy to pay. You forgot what it was like to be taken care of by a man considering the only two people you’ve been with in the past few years have been your shitty ex-husband and a college boy. 

“So, is there someone watching your daughters right now? I assume you didn’t just leave them home alone,” Changbin asks before taking a bite of his food.

“Yeah! My neighbor’s son watches them at night. I’m usually at my second job at this time, but I called off today.” He nods with a mouth full of food. “He’s in college right now but he finds the time. I pay him too, of course.” 

“You let a college boy watch your kids?” Changbin laughs in his chest. “I wouldn’t trust any teenage boy within 20 yards of my son. You must trust him.”

“He’s a sweet kid. He wouldn’t do anything to harm my girls, I’m sure.” You both go silent as you continue eating. “So, how’s your son?”

“My boy’s doing great! Middle school is a lot harder than elementary school, but he’s tough just like his daddy.” Again, you share a laugh with Changbin, the atmosphere sweet and sentimental as you discuss your children. “He’s home alone right now.”

When the waiter comes back to your table to give you the bill, Changbin sticks to his word and pays for the meal and the wine. He politely asks to go back to your house and stay a little longer, which is leading to exactly what you think it is. The tension rises when you get into his car and he keeps his hand on your thigh again, this time higher, closer to your hips. 

“We can have a few more drinks at my place. Just let me tell my babysitter to go home early. I’m sure he won’t mind.” 

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

Jeongin’s phone rings loudly from the living room as he lays in your bed, distracted with his thoughts. He’s been so high strung the past few days, but he hasn’t been able to tell you. He strokes himself slowly, almost teasing himself as he grunts and hops out of your bed to answer his phone who he’s happy to see is you!

“Hey Jeongin! You can go home early! I’ll be home in a few minutes, but you can leave now.” Your voice sounded so bright and pretty, and he was still dazed from his session that you interrupted. When he actually understands what you said, he’s beyond confused. 

“Are you sure? You don’t want to come home and… help me?” Your face heats up when you hear his voice turn weak at the end. Half of you wants to get fucked by Changbin, but the other half of you wants to fuck Jeongin. “I’m sorry for breaking rules mommy, but I’m so hard. I need you.” You can hear his pout through the phone. Thank God you didn’t have this call on speaker. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye Jeongin!” You hang up before he can say anything back so you don’t cause any worry from Changbin. Opening your messenger app, you hurriedly text Jeongin. 

🍓🍀🍯.

Y/n 💗: I need you to go home now. I’ll be there in a minute. Don’t worry about the girls. They’ll be fine as long as they’re asleep.

Yang Jeongin: but I need you mommy! I haven’t been your little boy in so long :(

Y/n 💗: For God’s sake just go home.

Yang Jeongin: and what if I don’t? 

Y/n 💗: This isn’t the time to be a brat.

Yang Jeongin: Fine. see you tomorrow. 

Y/n 💗: Thank you. Bye!

🍓🍀🍯.

No way in hell was Jeongin going home that easily. When he sees a car pull into your driveway which he assumes is yours, he runs to your room and hides in the closet hoping you’ll look for him so he can jump out and surprise you. He’s only wearing his tight boxer-briefs, his body shaking in excitement as he hears your front door open and close. 

It’s not your voice he hears, though. It’s another man’s. 

“You look so fucking sexy, Y/n. C'mere and kiss me, baby.” Obeying your date, you wrap your hands around his neck and meet his lips with yours, a messy, wet kiss making you both feel euphoric. His hands grope your ass and pull you close to him, his cock hardening against you. “I’ve been wanting this for so long.” 

“We need to be quiet. My kids are sleeping.” Your hands go over his chest, unbuttoning his white dress shirt as he shakes off his suit jacket. You rest your hands on his pecs and kiss him, your tongue swiping across his bottom lip. He held you so close, so tenderly. This is what you’ve been missing.

Jeongin brings his knees up to his chest, shaking with nerves and emotion rather than excitement. He should have listened to you, but now he has to hear you with another man. This is hell. Although it is tempted, he can’t just sneak out of your bedroom window. He needs an entire secret-agent-level escape plan, or at this point, divine intervention would be nice too. 

“Jump up, babe.” Changbin taps your thigh for you to jump into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms are around his neck. “Bedroom?” 

“Second door on the left.” You pull him into another kiss as he carefully carries you to your bedroom and lowers you onto the bed gently. Changbin cages you under him with his arms at your sides and your legs spread around his thighs. He grinds against your cunt, your dress riding up to reveal a thin thong being the only thing covering your pussy. 

“Can I take your dress off?” He kisses on your neck as you run your hands down his gorgeous arms. 

“Only if you take your shirt off.” He sighs with a smile and sits up, revealing his entire torso for you to see after slowly unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. You can’t help but ogle at the sight before you. “God damn, Changbin.” 

“Now let me slip this little dress off of you, doll.” He bites his lip as he takes a hold of the straps of your dress and pulls them down, eventually slipping your dress off of your body. His eyes scan your body, taking in every curve of your figure. His bulge in his pants only gets bigger. “Oh my god, you’re a fucking dream.”

You raise your back to get your hands around yourself, unhooking your bra and tossing it to the side. Changbin only watches as you lay back, giving him an open invitation to play with your tits, which he graciously accepts. His lips wrap around your left nipple, while his hand plays with your right breast. With his right hand busy on your chest, his left hand ghosts over your covered cunt before rubbing you from over your underwear. 

Your closet door isn’t very practical as a door. There are little slots across the door so air can vent into the closet. In this case, those little slots give Jeongin a perfect view of the buff, older man pinning you down to your bed. As much as his heart aches to see you like this, his cock is unmistakably hard. One of his hands teases his dick from over his underwear while his other hand wipes away a tear he didn’t even notice fell. 

Changbin kisses down from your nipple to the hem of your panties, his hands taking a hold of the fabric at your hips and sliding it down so he can finally taste you. He licks his lips before licking up your cunt, one strong lick to get you ready before his tongue makes circles around your clit, and occasionally his lips wrap around the bud to suck gently. Your legs wrap around his head as you watch him take his time, something your previous partners were never good at doing, even if they tried. 

“Fuck, Changbin~ so good.” You can’t help but moan out from his mouth taking complete control of your thoughts. Your hips buck up into his face as he devours you. Looking down at him, he looks so driven by lust and need. This is exactly where you were hoping this night was leading to. 

Changbin’s tongue laps at your folds as he grips your thighs tighter, going in harder than before. It feels like heaven between your legs, and you can’t help but raise your hips off the bed and buck into his face. He laughs against your heat, sending vibrations through your spine. He loves your reactions so much that he can’t help but laugh at how pathetic you are rutting against his face. 

“Mmm, mommy…” Jeongin whines, holding his hand over his mouth to muffle his irrepressible moans. Unfortunately for him, he’s louder than he thinks. “Ah, Y/n.” 

Changbin’s ears perk up. His mouth leaves you for a moment. He’s perched between your legs like a dog that just heard a car door from outside. “What was that?” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jeongin’s hand stops jerking himself as his heart falls through his chest. He goes bug eyed as the realization hits him that he might have been too loud. 

“What was what?” You breath fast as you come back to your senses, being totally out of it just a second ago for apparent reasons. “Was it my daughters?!”

“I swear I heard something…” Changbin stares at the closet, unknowingly making eye contact with Jeongin as he looks through a slot in the door. Jeongin rustles around to feel for a blanket or something to hide him, but that only makes more noise. “Wait here.” 

You sigh, frustrated from the sudden mood ruining sound that your one night stand claims to have heard. Changbin goes up to the closet and puts his ear against the door before sliding it open to reveal a half naked college boy covering himself with an old winter coat. 

“Who the fuck-” 

“Hi, I was just leaving…” 

“Jeongin?! Yang Jeongin?! Is that you?!” You were prepared to cover yourself with the blanket, but since it’s him there’s no need for that now. You get off the bed, knees only a little wobbly, and walk over to him, pushing Changbin out of the way in the process. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing spying on me like this?” 

Changbin steps back and looks over the scene. He doesn’t understand why you didn’t cover up in front of this boy, but he’s too startled to ask any questions, not to mention the visible rage on your face scaring him. 

“I was going to surprise you, Y/n.” Jeongin’s voice is more of a croak, his voice hoarse and squeaky from embarrassment. 

“I told you to go the fuck home. Why didn’t you listen to me?” Your speech gets louder and louder, practically being a shout at this point. You’re too angry to care if the girls hear. You soundproofed that room to high heaven; if your daughters heard, you’d be more than shocked. 

“I… needed you?” Before you can even yell again, Changbin steps in and pushes you back from the boy. You got so in your head that you accidentally managed to get in his face as if you were going to throw hands. “I’m sorry, I should go now.”

“Changbin,” you look back at the older man, “would you mind if we added a third?” 

Both of the men look at you, their faces reading nothing but confusion. You sigh at their dazed expressions and pull the jacket away from Jeongin, leaving him exposed aside from his underwear. Noticing he’s still hard, you can’t help but laugh. 

“Look at the poor boy, Bin! He wants to play, doesn’t he?” Despite clearly talking down to Jeongin, he nods like the needy little puppy he is. Changbin looks at you, looks at Jeongin, looks at you, looks at your tits, looks at Jeongin’s bulge, and finally looks back at you… This will be the end of him if he says yes. 

But he can’t possibly turn down this golden opportunity. 

“He does look like he needs some assistance, doesn’t he?” Changbin’s devilish smirk returns to his face, a look you’ve only seen during the car ride to your house. Changbin sizes up the younger boy, unsure of what he wants to do first with this fresh piece of meat. “Have you ever been in a threesome before… what’s his name?”

“Jeongin.”

“Jeongin?” 

“Well, no, but I’m trying to be…” Jeongin trails off, remembering his effort to be more vanilla and domestic to impress you. Then for a moment he thinks to himself, if being vanilla made her hook up with another guy, maybe she wants… her prince back. As absurd as this sounded to Jeongin, his knees were weak and his dick was hard. Turning down a threesome with two doms would be a clear mistake, and if he does this, then he can brag to his friends that he had a threesome, sparing the gruesome details of the power dynamics of course. “Excuse me sir, what’s your name?”

“You can keep calling me sir, that’s fine.” Changbin didn’t care what Jeongin called him, he only wanted to please you with the help of a little servant. “Y/n, go lay on the bed. I wasn’t done between your legs.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Jeongin’s never seen you be submissive, so he’s surely in for a treat. 

“Baby boy, why don’t you sit on that chair and watch how a mature man eats out a woman.” You wink to Jeongin as you get situated on the bed. Ever obedient, Jeongin goes to the cushioned chair in the corner of your room and slides his underwear down his legs, ready to finally be able to see your body tonight in all its glory, although another man between your legs sent shivers down his spine, he can’t deny that he likes seeing you in such a blissed out state like you make him. 

“So you’re calling me sir now too, huh?” Changbin lays between your legs, ready to continue where he left off. One of his fingers rakes through your cunt, collecting the wetness he left before plunging into your sensitive hole. “Be a good girl and keep those legs spread for me, okay?” 

“Don’t get overzealous, Changbin.” You laugh and throw your head back into the pillows, finally relaxing into the touch of your new lover. “We still have a little boy who wants to be fucked, doesn’t he?” Jeongin nods from the corner of the room, palming his freed cock, only allowing the slightest bit of friction to please him. 

This was going to be a long night.

taglist: @binnie-m00n​​ @sparklysung​​ @starsareseen​ @sailorhyunjinz​ @gothicstay​​ @vogueinnie​ @mariannaab​ @spilledtee​

[illfoandillfie]

5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: Picture Perfect

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery:  A whole day with Ben's family and no way to escape. How will you survive? And will any rules be left intact by the end of the night?

Warnings: SMUT (finally lmao), nothing like super kinky but it is explicit, plus the usual stuff,  drinking, mention of smoking.

Words: 6284

A/N: ARE YA'LL READY FOR THIS? smut scene is marked with a *** so you can skip it if you like.

Taglist:  @laedymoon  @dtfrogertaylor  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor  @hannafuckingsucks  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @tenement-funstah @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @thefairyfellersmasterstroke @queenlover05

@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless @im-an-adult-ish​

A week later you were in the passenger seat of Ben’s car, your bags in the back, watching the scenery pass by. You found your eyes drawn to him more often than usual but he didn’t seem to notice. Maybe it was that he was so focused on the road and the traffic around you or maybe it was because you were playing I spy and a few glances from the person who’d spied the object were expected. I spy was a good game. Distracting enough to focus your mind on something other than wanting Ben. For the most part at least. “And we can definitely still see it?” “Yuuuuuuup,” you popped the ‘p’ and glanced over at Ben again. “And it starts with ‘M’ but isn’t ‘Mazda’ like what’s driving behind us, or Mars Bar like what I was just eating?”” “Nope,” you popped the p again and laughed, “d’you want a clue?” “Go on then, otherwise we’ll be stuck like this all day,” “We’ve been following them since we got on the motorway,” Ben’s forehead creased as he thought about your clue, “Truck doesn’t start with ‘M’,” “Clever boy. You deserve a gold star for that one,” “Bite me,” You laughed and gave in to the temptation to look at him again, noting the crease of his forehead as he thought about your clue, “Should I just tell you?” “Fine, I’m never going to get it at this rate,” “I spy with my little eye a mudflap girl. Two of them actually,” “What the fuck is a mudflap girl?” You pointed at the silhouette on the tuck’s mudflaps, “Her. The chick with the stupidly pinched in waist and big knockers.” “Is that what they’re called?” “What knockers?” “No, I’m perfectly familiar with those,” Ben laughed and you whistled teasingly, willing your mind to stop picturing what it was picturing “Shush, I meant the mudflap girls, is that what they’re called?” “Yeah. You didn’t know?” He shook his head slightly, “Never really came up.” “Sorry, would have picked something else if I’d realised,” “‘s fine. Just means I won’t hold back with the next one.” You’d been a little nervous at the prospect of driving hours with just Ben for company, still coming to grips with the fact you wanted to knock boots with him. You couldn’t even think about it in direct language, just roundabout phrases your mum used to use. But, thankfully, all your concerns had disappeared the moment you got into the car, infected by Ben’s bright smile and insistence that he’d make it fun. His definition of fun was a lot of classic driving games, hence the I Spy, plenty of road trip snacks, and a healthy dose of a specially curated driving playlist. You’d made fun of him for including I’m In Love With My Car on it but he just turned it up louder and sang it at you which only made you laugh more. It stopped any awkwardness or uncomfortable silences in their tracks. But all the laughter and playful teasing was just another reminder of how close you were and that made you think about how badly you wanted to do the dirty with him, hear him whining your name, feel his hands all over you, cuddle up with him and doze as he read to you. You shook your head as the third image sprang to the forefront of your mind. That wasn’t right. Bumping uglies was one thing but dozing was out of the question. Unless it was in a post-coital come down of course. Not that any of it mattered since you weren’t going to act on it. Joe had made it very clear that something actually happening was a bad idea. Although, looking at Ben now he didn’t seem to be that bad off. Certainly not white knuckling it as Joe had said. He was happy and bubbly and you couldn’t see a single sign of him falling apart. What did Joe know anyway? He lived so far away, how could he possibly know what was good for Ben or, for that matter, you.

Halfway there you found a place to pull up so you could stretch your legs and refresh your snacks but then it was back into the car for the second leg of the trip, winding through the traffic until it thinned out and you pulled up outside a nice white house with a tidy yard. “This is it?” you asked, the nerves back in full force. “Yeah, you good?” You just nodded your head but Ben gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, “Remember the plan, yeah? Hold hands as much as we can, look as loved up as possible, just like what we do for the cameras. What’s our story?” “Met at the audition for Edith since you’d already been cast. Hung out a lot as prep for the movie. You asked me out a couple of days before filming began and we dated secretly for a while but then, partway through filming, we were caught by paparazzi and decided to be open about it.” “Very good. What el- shit, no time for the rest of the pop quiz, the front door just opened.” “It’s okay, I’m good. We’ve been doing this for months now, it’s just more of the same.” Ben nodded and then let your hand go so he could get out of the car. You opened your door and stepped out, smoothing out your skirt, your hand cold outside of Ben’s grasp. But he fixed the problem, taking your hand again as he led you towards the front door and the person who’d come out onto the driveway. He squeezed your hand again. “Hi mum. This is Y/N,” “Well it’s about time,” his mum said, already stepping forward to hug you, forcing you to drop Ben’s hand “lovely to meet you, darling.” “Pleasure to meet you too Mrs Jones,” you smiled politely as she stepped back. “Oh, Angela, please,” her hands were still on your shoulders as she examined your appearance, “Gosh aren’t you pretty.” You managed to stutter out a thank you, suddenly feeling much more shy than you normally would have. “Oh c’mon mum, let her go.” “I’m just saying she’s beautiful, what’s wrong with that?” but her hands fell from you as she turned her attention to Ben, “I still think you’re very handsome too Ben. Need a bit of a haircut though.” He rolled his eyes but hugged her all the same. “Mikey’s already there setting up with your father and I expect you’ll be giving him a hand soon?” “Can I not have five minutes out of the car before I get piled up with chores?” Ben whined as you both followed her inside.

She led you on a brief tour of the house, pointing out where the bathrooms were and coming to an end at Ben’s old room where you’d be staying. She promised you enough time to grab your bags and freshen up before you’d be asked to help and then she headed back towards the front of the house. You peeked inside the bedroom door hoping to see what teenage Ben’s sense of style was but it had since been redecorated. “Don’t look so disappointed,” Ben laughed, “Mum had the whole house redone a few years ago and it didn’t make sense to keep my room how it was.” “Please tell me there’s photos here somewhere,” “Probably but you’re not seeing them,” “You have to tell me something, I’m your girlfriend and I need to know.” “Fuck off, you do not,” “Please?” you extended the word in a childish whine, pouting at him until he broke. “What d’you want to know then?” “What’d you have on your walls? Band posters?” Ben laughed, “Uhhh, a few sports things – my favourite teams and that. Some girls with big tits leaning all over cars…Couple of theatre posters too,” “Nerd,” “Shut up,” he laughed again, pushing against your shoulder, “Sorry about Mum by the way,” “It’s totally fine,” “I promise it’ll all be over soon,” You were taken aback as he wrapped you up in a tight hug but very happily relaxed against him. Carefully, so as not to break the moment you looked up at him only to find him looking back at you. It was the closest you’d been since the almost-kiss in the hotel. Sure, you’d been close, even hugged before, but not in this long, lingering way and even then, it was mostly just in public. A sharp knock at the door made you break apart. “Sorry to rush you but Mikey’s just called asking after you. Better get a move on,” “Who’s Mikey?” you asked, refusing to acknowledge the tension in the air. “My brother, Michael. S’pose we should crack on. You’ve got about twelve bags to pull from the car.” “Fuck off, it’s only two and one of them’s a hand bag. Plus, it’s you’re fault for not being more specific about dress code.” You hadn’t known exactly what to pack and got no clear answer when you’d asked, so you’d packed a few different outfit options, from casual jeans and a nice blouse to a slightly more fancy little black dress, the clutch you’d taken to the French restaurant packed with it in case you needed a stylish purse. “You’re such a drama queen. Just help me with them yeah?”

You would have known he was Ben’s brother even before you’d heard about him. His face was thinner and his shoulders less broad but they had the same smile, same eyes. He was lovely too, jumped down off a chair and dropped the coil of fairy lights he’d been holding so he could shake your hand and introduce himself. Then came their dad, maybe not quite as warm as their mum but just as welcoming. Both you and Ben were handed lengths of lights and sent off to find places to hang them. Inside it wasn’t necessary since the restaurant was already lit up, staff busting about making sure everything was ready for that afternoon. So Ben led you away from the big open door, into the beer garden. It was mostly paved, small shoots of grass sprouting up through the bricks, though there was also a large strip of grass at the very end of the yard. Ben’s brother and dad were on one side of the yard, securing their lights to the fence so you and Ben headed straight for the grassy end where the light of the restaurant wouldn’t quite reach. “Wait here a sec,” Ben said, handing you his coil of lights and turning back towards the paved area. You watched as he dragged on of the sturdy wooden tables over to you. At the first scrape of the wood on the brick he looked inside to see if anyone was going to go mad at him but, aside from his family members, no one noticed. When he finally got it in position, he climbed up onto the table and held out his hand for the lights. You kept lookout as he wound the wire around a tree branch and then jumped down again, handing the end of the lights to you so you could wrap it around the tree trunk and secure the battery pack out of harm’s way, as he pushed the table back into place. It wasn’t long before the yard was covered with lights extending from the doorway all the way to the fence that blocked the yard from the road. Of course, all that work meant you deserved a drink so, by the time Ben’s mum and other family members began arriving in the late afternoon, you were already halfway through your first glass. Ben gave you a running commentary of everyone who walked into the restaurant. “That’s my cousin and her daughter. And the couple behind her are my,” he thought for a moment, “Well let’s call them cousin’s too because I don’t know how seconds and removals work. The bald guy over there talking to Mum is my great uncle. And the woman who just waved is an Aunt. Whatever you do, don’t mention her son. He’s had a run in with the law and it’s a touchy subject.” “Noted. But shit, when you said family get together you really meant it,” “Yeah,” Ben laughed, “The Jones’ don’t do things by halves. ‘Specially not when there’s drinking involved.”

As the place began to fill Ben took you around to meet people. You felt a little like the ball in a pinball machine, bouncing from one person to another, introducing yourself and then moving on to someone else, almost immediately forgetting any names you’d just been told. It was almost like doing interviews again except with more movement and more alcohol. Ben kept a hold of you, either interlocking his fingers with yours or else wrapping his arm around your waist, keeping you close to his side, only letting you go to grab you another drink or light up a cigarette. At one point you had a small crowd gathered beside you, all pointing out things they’d seen in magazines or on the internet about you, all wanting to hear about how you met. Thankfully you’d become quite practiced at telling the story. “We met at the audition actually,” Ben said, “I had the part but they wanted to try me with different actresses to find someone that would work well on screen. I’d met, I don’t know, eight or nine women and then Y/N came into the room. She looked kinda nervous,” You shook your head in disagreement but Ben ignored you. “but we got a chance to say hi before we had to read the lines and we just clicked.” “Our director really liked us together so I got a call back and we did another scene,” “So they could, y’know, see us kiss, make sure the chemistry was there.” “They must have liked it because I got the part. We did a couple of weeks of all this, um, like, bonding stuff. The rest of the main cast was there too but me and Ben had a few one on one things because we were playing a couple that was already engaged so they wanted us to look really connected.” “Anyway, I wanted to ask her out after day one but I wasn’t sure if I should because we’d be working together,” “I took a little longer to see him in that light but he was so sweet and charming and fun to be around, and by the end of the week I was thinking the same thing. Only neither of us wanted to make the first move because if it wasn’t mutual then it could make the next few months of work really awkward.” “Eventually one of the other actors pointed out how into me she was so I asked her out for a coffee and it went from there.” He returned your smile and then pulled you closer into his side, dropping a kiss to the top of your head as you leaned against his chest. “Well your casting director knew what they were doing because you two are adorable together.” A few more questions followed but eventually Ben was able to extract you from the crowd with the excuse you needed more drinks. “Actually, I gotta run to the loo, I’ll bring some food back with me though, okay?” “Okay, I’m gonna grab another cocktail, you want anything?” “Beer’d be great,” “Sure thing, babe,” He smiled again as he left you but you were smiling too. There was something fun about the act. Even with everything that had happened and how mixed up and hard it had been at times, an evening like this was fun. He made you laugh and made sure you felt comfortable in what could have easily been an extremely uncomfortable situation. Plus, it meant you got to indulge the part of you that was still fantasising about being with him. You were allowed to kiss him and touch him because you were acting. There was no confusion about why, no worries about if you were crossing the line you’d put down, nothing to stop you from enjoying it. So what if occasionally your fantasies extended beyond just doing the horizontal tango? It wasn’t so bad to think about cuddling up in front of the TV with him.

Drinks in hand you headed back to where Ben had disappeared, trying to spot him in the crowd. “Y/N!,” You spun round to see who was talking, finding yourself face to face with Ben’s mum again. Angela, you reminded yourself. “Come join us over here,” she said leading you to a table where a few others sat, “You’ve met my husband Keith already, yes? And this is Doug and Katherine. This is Y/N, Ben’s girlfriend.” You took a seat and chatted with them, glancing around for Ben every so often. Eventually Doug and Katherine got up to talk to someone else and Keith went off in search of more food, leaving you and Angela alone. “Now, darling, Ben tells me you’ve got a work thing to get back home for tomorrow so you’ll be leaving a bit earlier than originally planned.” Angela said, patting your hand. “Yeah, um, it’s an audition,” you lied. It was a cover Ben had come up with so you didn’t get guilted into staying an extra day. “Well that does sound important. I’m sad we won’t have longer to get to know you though. I must admit, I saw a photo of you and Ben a while ago and I was hoping he’d bring you up because you just looked so lovely. And you obviously make him very happy, which is of course what every mother hopes for. So you have to come back soon so we can have a proper chat. Make a weekend of it or something.” You were a little taken aback, stunned to hear how much of an impact you’d had without meaning to. It made you feel a bit guilty. This was Ben’s family and you weren’t part of it, you shouldn’t be there. But you swallowed the doubts, tried to ignore how much you wanted it all to be real, and smiled back at her, “I’d love that. Just say when.” “Oh now don’t tempt me or I’ll have the date picked out before the end of the night. I don’t want to jump the gun or seem too forward but just seeing how you two are together…I hope you know you’re welcome in our family. Ben loves you a lot, I can tell.” “I know. And it’s very kind of you,” “I mean it darling. And if the next family get together was your wedding, well….but of course that’s neither here nor there.” You laughed it off but your insides were churning. “So this is where you got to,” Ben’s voice interrupted as he dropped into the seat beside you and lay his hand on your knee. You hadn’t realised your leg had been bouncing but you stopped it the moment he touched you. “I was just telling Y/N that you should come back again soon, when there’s no auditions to interrupt your stay.” “Sure, Mum,” Ben said, still touching your leg. You chatted for a bit longer until she got distracted enough for Ben to lean into your ear and softly ask, “You okay? Or do you want to get out of here?” “Please,” you whispered back. “Okay, follow me,” He took your hand and told his mum he wanted to introduce you to someone but you barely heard it, your head buzzing as you made a polite exit and let Ben lead you outside, making excuses to anyone who tried to stop you. As soon as you were clear of the venue he pulled out his phone to find a car, one hand on your lower back, rubbing soft circles over your shirt until you felt you could breathe easy again. “Better?” “Thank you. How’d you know?” He shrugged, “I just know you. I saw your leg bouncing and figured Mum had said something,” “She mentioned us getting married,” “What? Why the fuck would that have come up?” “It was just a passing comment but I….” You half shrugged, trying to find the right words. “It’s okay, c’mon, let’s go home you can tell me everything.” You nodded and let him hug you as you waited for the car.  

Once you were inside Ben grabbed a couple of glasses from the kitchen and then headed into the dining room. “Thank you dad,” he mumbled as he pulled a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label out of a cupboard and turned to show you, “He’s kept a stash of this stuff in here since I was a kid. Got in trouble for stealing some a couple of times.” “Better not let him find out about this then,” you laughed, feeling more relaxed now that it was just you and Ben, a sizeable distance from the rest of the party. Ben chuckled along as he poured a little into each glass and carefully replaced the bottle, “So what happened back there?” “I don’t know,” you accepted your glass and took a sip, leaning against the corner of the table. Ben didn’t cut in, he just took his own drink and waited until you could say more. “I guess it was just harder to be around your family than I was expecting. It wasn’t the same as sitting in a restaurant on a date,” you drew the quotation marks in the air with your fingers, “That was a room full of people who care about you and they were all so lovely and welcoming and your mum said she’d been hoping you’d bring me here since she saw a photo of us and invited me back so she could get to know me and I said I’d love to because what else could I say and she seemed so happy about it and so pleased that you’re so happy and I feel so guilty about lying to them all. What if they find out? Your mum’ll be so disappointed.” “Don’t worry about lying to them, I’ve done it plenty before,” when you didn’t laugh he put his glass down beside you and took you free hand in his, “Seriously, Y/N, there’s nothing to feel guilty about. The premiere is coming up in a couple of weeks and then pretty soon after that we’ll break up and I’ll tell them it just wasn’t working, and they’ll accept it and never have to know the truth. And then we can forget this whole thing and move on.” You weren’t so sure that was what you wanted anymore, but you weren’t sure enough to say it. Instead you put your glass down as well and said, “but it must be hard for you too. Having me here and everything.” It was only when you looked at him that you realised how close you were standing. He was still holding your hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your fingers. “I’m a big boy, I can handle it.” You weren’t sure what compelled you to do it, the drink maybe, or just pent up sexual tension, but he was so close and he was looking at you with those eyes and before you could stop yourself you leaned in to kiss him. He seemed a bit shocked, taking half a step back, and you were sure he was going to tell you it wasn’t a good idea and then leave you standing there alone. But then his hand was on your jaw as he kissed you back, all hesitancy gone. You felt him sigh against you as if he’d been holding his breath, waiting for this to happen again, and pulled him in closer.

***

Maybe it was the months without sex, or maybe it was how often your mind had conjured similar scenes, or maybe it was just how good it felt to have him press you against the table to kiss you again, but whatever the reason it wasn’t long until you were pushing the hem of his shirt up over his stomach. He took the hint and stopped kissing you just long enough to pull it over his head, quickly finding your lips again as his fingers worked on the buttons of your shirt. He got about halfway through and then stopped, instead dropping his hands to your arse so he could lift you up and carry you up the hall towards his room. He kicked the door shut once he was through it and pressed you against it, kissing you as if to make up for lost time. It was a heady experience, being pinned to the door, your legs wrapped around him as you kissed messily. Too much and not enough all at once. You needed him closer still and clutched at his shoulders to try and make him understand. Either he really could read you well or he wanted the same thing because a moment later there was no longer a door behind you, Ben taking the few steps towards the bed and letting himself drop to the mattress. He pushed your shirt from your shoulders, no longer needing to hold you up, and ran his hands over your sides as if trying to map out he lines of your body. A whine escaped you as your need to remove layers grew and you dropped your hands to his belt, fumbling blindly with the buckle. A voice in your head told you it was a bad idea. You still weren’t certain of your feelings, weren’t sure doing this would cure you of them or if it’d just make everything messier than it already was. But the voice got quieter with every shift of your hips and every stroke of his fingers. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he mumbled against your neck. All you could manage was a small whimper of agreement as he kissed you again, and traced his fingers up to the clasp of your bra. It was on the floor in seconds, his hands replacing the material, only making you want more. You arched your back into his touch, panted against his lips. He smiled, circled a nipple with his thumb, delighted in your response.

Suddenly he flipped you over so you were sitting on the bed, kissed you again and then stood up. “Ben?” you were worried he was going to put an end to things before they got too far. Thankfully he didn’t, just shucked off his pants. You almost laughed in relief as he leaned over you again, making quick work of the fastening of your skirt so it too could join the clothing on the floor. The voice in your head was gone, silenced by the pure desperate need to have him touch you more, and he was making no moves to stop it either as you shuffled further up the bed, pulling him along with you. You let out a choked off moan as he kissed a trail down your neck, tilted your head to the side so he could reach all the spots that made you gasp. But it still wasn’t enough. You were going to go crazy with need if you didn’t get something more soon, so you let your hand fall between you, rubbed your palm over the front of his boxers, felt him rock his hips against your hand, already hard. He sat back on his knees so he could slip your underwear down your legs. “Fuck,” he groaned as soon as he realised how wet you were. You grabbed his wrist and put his hand between your legs, hoping he’d take the hint. He did, trailing his fingers between your lips, over your clit. Your breath caught as he slipped a lone digit into you, slowly, easing you into it before he added a second. He watched you closely, eyes half lidded and soft, the tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth like he was concentrating on memorizing every inch of you, inside and out. Even in that moment, when your breaths were coming shaky and uneven, and your skin was burning under his gaze, even then all you could think was how hot he looked, hair ruffled, lips kiss swollen, completely enraptured by you. He shifted his finger slightly and your eyes fluttered shut. “There, babe, fuck, right there,” you sighed. “Like that?” he asked softly, twitching his fingers against you again. You nodded though he drew a more vocal response from you a few seconds later when he added a third finger and leaned down to suck your nipple between his lips. He hummed when he heard you say his name and repeated the same motion in the same place, so you said his name again, louder, and then again and again as he kept going, hitting you exactly where you needed him. You were almost surprised by how quickly he managed to pull you over the edge. Almost. But it had been a while and he’d always promised he was good. He worked you through it before he carefully withdrew his fingers and kissed you again, stealing what little breath you had left.

And then he stopped. Sat back again. You blinked your eyes open and reached for him as he leaned over the edge of the bed, opened the draw of the beside cabinet and swore. Pulling himself back towards you he took your outstretch hand and kissed the back of it, “I don’t have any condom’s here,” he sounded apologetic. “I have some, wait,” you kissed him quickly before you stood, a little unsteady, and opened the wardrobe door, thankful Felicity had given you the handful of them and that you’d brought the bag with you. He looked like he was about to ask why but the sight of you climbing onto the bed, straddling him, with one hand on his chest to lay him down, made the question die in his throat. He let his head fall back onto the pillow as you pulled his underwear off and rolled the condom on as quick as you could manage. And then you sank down onto him, trying to take your time. “Fuck,” you whined, pausing to give you both a moment to adjust. His hand grabbed onto your waist, fingertips pressing into you, encouraging you to move. It was soft but not quite, both of you panting and groaning as you raised and lowered yourself on him, building up to a steady rhythm. His hands roamed over you, grabbing your arse the way he had done on his couch, moving over your breasts, squeezing your hips, gentle but firm pulling you to speed up each time. You needed to be closer though, so you leaned down to kiss him again, grunting at the change of position. But it interrupted your flow, made you stutter out of time, so Ben propped himself up on his elbows, and then when that wasn’t enough, sat up fully, his knees rising behind you. One hand was braced on your back to keep you steady as you circled your hips, the other cupped your cheek as his forehead leaned against yours, every uneven breath audible, able to feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest under your palm. “I love you,” he sighed, his nose bumping against yours as he searched for your lips again. You were on the verge of repeating his words back to him when he dropped his hand from your cheek, let it fall between you and brush against your clit, the confession lost in your moan. “You gonna c-cum for me?” You nodded, leaning into his neck as you did your best to keep riding him, legs shaking with the effort and your approaching release. He didn’t let up until you were crying out into his shoulder, following close behind you with his own moan.

***

You lost track of how long you sat there, leaning against each other as you came down, lost track of where you were, lost track of the reality of your relationship. Your instinct was to keep clinging to Ben, keep kissing along his jaw and nose as you pulled yourselves back together. But it was too much for him. He let go of you suddenly, as if just touching you was painful. “I’ve gotta…” he said with a half hearted nod in the direction of the doorway. “Oh. Right, yeah,” you climbed off him, trying not to react to the sudden emptiness, the sudden cool of the air outside of his embrace. Ben moved to the edge of the bed, glanced at you, ran his hand through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen,” you offered somewhat lamely, not sure how to explain everything you were feeling. “Neither. Are you okay?” “Yeah. I, um, it was really good and I-I think I kind of needed it.” This was it. There was no more running from what you were feeling. No more pretending it was platonic or just physical. You had to come clean, to yourself as much as to Ben. Ben smiled but it was a pained kind of smile, “It was good for me too. Really good. But it can’t ever happen again.” He stood up before you could say anything else, tied off the condom and put his boxers back on, making a hasty retreat. Something stirred in your memory and you had the sudden urge to tell him he couldn’t leave you because he owed you a third orgasm, but it was too late. He was gone and you were left sitting there, naked and alone, waiting for him to come back so you could explain. When enough time had passed without his return you got up, put your pyjamas on and went to the bathroom, running on autopilot as you considered everything that had just happened. Maybe Ben was right to walk away. Maybe it had been a mistake. He probably wouldn’t believe you if you told him how you really felt. You’d taken too long to work it out, been too vocal about not feeling it. And it would be poor timing to say it right after you’d slept together. He’d think you were saying what he wanted to hear so he wouldn’t be embarrassed about saying it himself. And maybe it was down to all the tension between you. You’d spent all day pretending to be the loving girlfriend after all, maybe it had influenced you a bit, made you think you felt things you didn’t actually feel. But something that good, that tender, didn’t just happen with anyone, surely. It certainly hadn’t been like that with anyone else you’d been with casually. And you’d assumed that having sex with Ben would be the solution, that you’d finish and be fixed. No more thinking about him, no more wanting to be with him. But all you really wanted was to cuddle up beside him. Fall asleep in his arms. That wasn’t something you usually wanted from one night stands. Normally you’d want to get out as fast as possible not sit in their bedroom and wait for them. And the thought of everything else that could happen if he just knew it was what you wanted – waking up beside him, making him coffee, listening to him play stupid love songs on his stupid guitar, comforting him on bad days, being his actual fucking girlfriend and not just his pretend one – all of that sounded so fucking wonderful. It couldn’t just be endorphins making you feel like that. There had to be something of substance behind it all. Afterall they’d been there for a while now, those feelings. It wasn’t like the sex had conjured them. You’d been pretending not to notice them but they’d been there for months. So the only way forward was to tell him.

When you got back to the bedroom Ben was there, curled away from you on a makeshift bed on the floor. He could have been sleeping except his shoulder’s were too rigid, holding too much tension. “Ben?” He didn’t respond, just kept feigning sleep. So you switched out the light and tiptoed to the bed, crawling under the covers. The sheets still smelt like him and it made your heart ache. What if you just said it? You sat up, turned your head in his direction. “Ben?” it came out as more of a whisper than you’d have like so you tried again, “Ben, I-I-” If you said it now would he join you? Or would he pretend he hadn’t heard? You fell silent again at that thought, not sure you could cope with it. Maybe you’d just hold off for a bit. Wait until the premiere. Give yourself time to find the exact right words to explain your apparent change of heart. He couldn’t write you off as trying to spare him some embarrassment if you said it weeks after he’d let it slip in the throws of passion. He’d have to take you seriously then. “Goodnight,” you sighed, and lay down again, though try as you might, you couldn’t sleep. You lay there in the dark, sure Ben was just as awake as you were, with only one thought in your head. You loved Ben. And you didn’t know what to do about it.

[karliesbuzzcut]

When art really speaks to you, pt. 2: probably just a coincidence but idk

Disclaimer: all these theories are rabbit holes on their own, so trying to explain them in a couple of paragraphs is, automatically, doing them a disservice. Especially since I’m only going to be primarily addressing the part of the theory that focuses on the artist communicating with their public through their work.

Since I’ve already dedicated paragraphs to the introduction in part 1, let’s just jump into it.

Leonardo Da Vinci’s fuckton of theories.

Let’s start with the daddy of all conspiracies. After all, not many can gloat about their reachings becoming a movie starring Tom Hanks.

The thing with Da Vinci’s conspiracies is that there are so many of them, and they range from “maybe this is also a painting made by Da Vinci but he wasn’t credited because of reasons” to ALIENS. Which, I think, shows how different our interpretations of art can be, and how much it depends on an already established worldview.

But the most interesting part isn’t the conclusions, but how people look for clues. For example, just like people say Taylor Swift is obsessed with numbers or oranges (depending who you ask, I guess), Da Vinci was supposedly a big fan of reflections. So, if you want to decode his paintings you must mirror them... and then move then a little bit... there you go, you’ve just found yourself an alien...! Or a daemon...! Or someone wearing a funny hat! And that’s totally what he wanted us to find, right? Why else would he had shown any sort of interest in reflections if he didn’t want us to reflect everything!!

Shakespeare is an illusion... kinda, but yeah.

Personally, I think Kaylors would love to dig into this one. Sure, it doesn’t have many lesbians playing political spies. But it does involve a lot of literature analysis. Just like Kaylors don’t think a heterosexual woman could’ve written Taylor’s songs; some people (referred as anti-Stratfordians, thank you very much) don’t think someone from a lower class could’ve written Shakespeare’s plays. 

Here’s the tea... the very cold tea: because Shakespeare was the son of a glover, anti-Stratfordians say he couldn’t have had the knowledge to write his plays. They, instead, come up with a list of “more suitable” writers that could’ve worked together. But they decided to keep their identities a secret because being a play writer, at that time, wasn’t respectable. Here, we will start noticing a trend with Conspiracy Theories: society, as a whole, can’t handle the truth, only a selected few. That’s where Francis Bacon comes in.

Francis Bacon was a very smart dude. He, also, worked for the state - giving him the credentials to be worthy of writing Shakespeare calibre plays. And also, also, he developed a method to conceal messages in the presentation of a text. To be able to do this, you would need to use two typefaces. Guess what has more than one typeface? Shakespeare’s plays.

I have to say - while I don’t believe either theory we have seen, they are somewhat understandable. We barely know anything about Shakespeare and Da Vinci beyond their work, so it’s normal that people are trying to figure out who they were; what did they believed in; where did they get all of their knowledge. We like theorising about the answers to these questions, knowing we’ll never get a confirmed truth. Not so the case with our next conspiracy...

Lewis Carroll was Jack the Ripper - someone had to be, right?

Now, allow me to fangirl all over this one. It combines my interests for conspiracy theories, true crime and pop-culture.

I’m assuming everyone here knows about Jack the Ripper: a serial killer who murdered at least 5 people (mainly prostitutes) in London, between the years 1888 and 1891. Well, someone looked at this and thought “you know what this murder-mystery is missing? Famous people”. Well, this theory says that the author of Alice in Wonderland did it He was the only celebrity living nearby at the time of the killings, so... 🤷‍♀️

This becomes a case of “I have already made up my mind about this issue, so I’m going to go ahead and search for proof that confirms it”. Authors and, now, internet sleuths went through his books, selected this random-ass excerpt from the nursery version of Alice and decided it was an anagram. And a crappy one at that. Supposedly, if you arrange the letters you get a detailed and gruesome confession. You, however, have to take away some letter and add others. Listen, I’m not an English major, but I’ve heard that’s cheating.

This theory also has that characteristic we mentioned: the “I don’t want to admit it out loud, so I’m going to come up with convoluted ways for my audience to figure it out” - which almost borders on psychotic behaviour. But at least it, somewhat, works with the serial killer narrative, you know? Not very much with Taylor, a woman who simply wants to chill with her girlfriend.

The moon landing was fake and directed by Stanley Kubrick.

I’m not going to dig into the moon landing conspiracy, this post is going to be long enough already. Just know that, when the USA government was planning to fake the whole thing, they had just watched ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ and they were all like “that’s so cool! That’s how we want our fake moon landing to look!” So they contacted its director, Kubrick.

According to the theory, Kubrick felt really guilty afterwards but he couldn’t say anything about it because he signed an NDA? it would be dangerous, I guess. So he did the same thing Taylor would do decades later: he “spelled it out” for us on his work, under the excuse of “I didn’t explicitly said it, did I? My most intelligent and attractive fans just happened to figure it out for themselves”. 

The movie ‘The Shinning’ has been analysed to shreds. Think ‘Look What You Made Me Do’ music video, but 2 hours and 26 minutes instead. There are many theories about its underlying theme, but we’re only focusing on the moon landing one. The biggest piece of evidence, according to believers, comes from that famous scene in the hallway. Basically, the kid, Danny, is on the floor playing and wearing an Apollo 11 sweater. He stands up = the rocket launches. He walks to Room N.237. Which is almost an anagram for MOON - but actually, a perfect anagram for MORON - I didn’t come up with that joke, I’m just sharing it. Anyway. In the book, the room number is 217 but Kubrick changed it to 237 because there are 237,000 miles between the Earth and the Moon... except that’s not exactly true, but this is their Kissgate, you see? 

“Paul is Dead” aka “the granddaddy of Kaylor is Real”

Now, this is THE conspiracy theory. Kaylors would love to have the amount of evidence this theory has. Give them 50 years, they’ll get there. 

Our story starts in 1966, Paul McCartney dies in a car accident. The British Government panics, “this will drive our teenagers into a massive suicide!” So they cover it up. They find this guy who looks like Paul and hire him to replace the original. 

You might’ve only heard about those stores where pop-stars get their beards. But there’s also a branch that focuses on celebrity look-a-likes.

The rest of The Beatles went along with it (because that’s how these artists seem to operate, they’re always the victims of their circumstances) but they did not like it. So - you guessed it - they used their music, artwork, photo-shoots, etc. to communicate the truth. Faux-Paul might’ve felt a bit awkward about it, but he’s a nice chap and let the other guys work through their grief. 

Kaylors might have agreed on blue being the colour of breaks up and yellow is for Karlie-Sunshine; but the Paul-truthers concluded white is the colour of heaven, jeans are for gravediggers and black for morticians... oh! And not wearing shoes means you’re dead. Taylor being near a door symbolises her leaving the closet; Paul being near an open trunk symbolises him being in a coffin. Is the letter K, for Karlie, surrounding Taylor? Well, there’s a 28IF in the plaques of a car, for Paul being 28 IF he hadn’t died. People hear a phantasmagorical “she” in ‘Call It What You Want’; just like people heard “I buried Paul” in ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’.

If you have never looked up this theory, I seriously recommend it. There are so many parallels with Kaylor. Here’s a 30 minute video, if you’re interested. It summarises the theory neatly while discussing the effects that these, seemingly innocent, conspiracies have on the way we absorb information.

Paul might be dead but 2pac is very much alive.

If I haven’t made it clear by now, I think it’s very deceptive to use a musician’s lyrics to back up your alternate version of events. As confessional as these verses can be, they’re still a form of art. Which, in terms of music lyrics, they need to follow certain parameters, as well as a desired sound. And, as many other forms of art, they might focus a bit more on transmitting a feeling, rather than an accurate portrayal of reality.

Why am I stopping to say all of this now? Well, because this specific theory relies a lot on Tupac’s lyrics.

A bit of context: In 1996, Tupac Shakur was shot 4 times while at a stoplight. He died from his injuries days later. While there are theories, to this day, no one knows who killed him. Unless you believe one of those theories, which claims no one did.

The believers of this theory cite Tupac’s lyrics to argue that he was explicitly telling his fans that he was going to fake his own death. Here are two examples:

I’ve been shot and murdered, can’t tell you how it happened word for word but best believe that n*****’ gonna get what they deserve. - Richie Rich’s N***** Done Change

I heard rumours that I died murdered in cold blood, traumatised pictures of me in my final states — you know mama cried. But that was fiction, some coward got the story twisted - Aint’ Hard 2 Find

Just like anti-Kaylors don’t necessarily oppose the idea of Taylor being gay; I bet the “antis” of this theory aren’t happy Tupac died and weren’t against his existence on the first place. It’s more of an argument about confusing your feelings with facts, just because they can be more comforting or exciting.

“Avril Lavigne is dead”... or “every artist you think is alive is, actually, dead and, the ones you think are dead, aren’t” I guess.

After everything we have seen, this one isn’t that interesting. The real Avril died in 2003, right after her first album. Her record label bought a new one. Proof? She says ‘dead’ in ‘My Happy Ending’, blah, blah. A poor man’s “Paul is Dead”.

I added it, mainly for the lulz, after the last entry, I needed them. But also because it all started with a blog. What’s hilarious is that the guy who created it admitted he only did it to show how gullible people are but, at that point, he had already convinced people about. The conspirators didn’t need him anymore. So they discarded him but not the Theory... which just reminds me a little too much of how TCG, HBH, Jennyboom &co. have been excommunicated from the Church of Kaylor.

Beyonce and Jay Z are members of the sexy sexy Illuminati.

I did not save the best for last. But maybe I’m just biased because the Illuminati theory bores me to death. However, if you allow me a bit of social criticism... remember how the Shakespeare Conspiracy started because a bunch of classicist people didn’t believe a lower class citizen could write such good plays? I think this one has a bit of that. I’d bet my life that this one started when a bunch of white dudes got super uncomfortable by black people being so talented and earning their successful.

What this Conspiracy shows, too, is the amplifying effect the internet has had on the proliferation of such theories. Most of the conspiracies I’ve mentioned were huge... but how were you supposed to communicate your ideas and add to the old ones, before the internet? You could publish a book. Talk about it at parties. And, at some point, there were internet forums but, still, you can’t compare that to how widespread Social Media is nowadays. 

Today, we can watch someone ramble for 2 hours on YouTube about how Beyonce looks like a robot if you watch Single Ladies in reverse; read someone’s dissertation of ‘Apeshit’; or spend all night looking at those pictures where someone has drawn a red circle around anything that resembles a triangle. 

It might look like a lot of evidence but that’s only because there are a lot of people very attached to this theory. Wanting - for whatever reason - for it to be true (perhaps because it would confirm that their fears about the world were well founded). And all those dozens or hundredths of people were working together to form as many patterns as possible.

Unfortunately we are going to keep talking about the Illuminati in Part 3 but also about Taylor, so that should be nice. Because - to the surprise of absolutely no one - there’s a bunch of people who also think they understand Taylor better than the rest. That they have figured out her secret codes and her ultimate message. Only, not all of those theories involve lesbian supermodels, so they aren’t as popular on Tumblr.

[meridia002-lorddiavolosconcubine]

Dizzump in the Devildom

WARNING: FECES/DEFECATION, NSFW (NO SEX, BUT UTTERLY DISGUSTING), MERIDIA HAS AN ACCIDENT

Let this be the first entry in the Devildom Diary.

My first day in the Devildom was a total ASS DISASTER. Literally. Imagine finding yourself in an unfamiliar world that lacked amenities as basic as toilets. I was horrified and embarrassed when it came time to take my first dizzump in the Devildom. On that first evening I grabbed my demon boyfriend, Mammon, and pinned him against a dark corner to ask him where the toilet was.

“A toy what?” Mammon asked as he characteristically threw up his hands in confusion.

I dumbfoundedly watched him shake his head at me as waves of impeccable white hair grazed his forehead. Why humiliate myself by explaining the concept of human defecation to this shiny, smooth entity? I waved off my question as an exhaustion-induced brain fart and  decided that it was best for me to search for a place to poop that night.

Why doesn't Hell have toilets? I searched the Internet for “demon boy anatomy,” and what I discovered didn’t comfort me. According to AkuWikia, demons lack functional buttholes. Their pink starfishes are only for anal sex and were never an original part of their evolution. The wiki article said the first king of the Devildom spent centuries watching humans procreate and fuck. He saw anal sex as unique and wanted demons to be able to do it. From that day onward, the demon king cast a spell on all his subjects that drilled perfect puckered holes in their anuses. The article made no mention of human defecation.

So there I was, my struggles to contain the doo doo within my donut hole failing me. Touching cloth is what humans call it when you’re desperately trying to keep the turtle’s head in its shell. Prairie dogging. You get it. I bemoaned my choice to wear tight-ass pants. I clenched my cheeks, my hands pushing them together to stall Mr. Hanky for as long as I could. I waddled sideways in the hallway like I had something up my ass. After all, I did.. it was threatening to break free. Why did I have to eat that burrito baby last night? Shit!

Stiffly shuffling against the wall, I opened the bathroom door. No toilets, but a pretty big bathtub. big enough to squat and drop deuce in the drain.

No! Shaking that thought from my mind, I continued searching every closet and room I had access to. Buckets? No. Where would I dump it? Asmo’s underwear drawer? Maybe. Ugh. Behind the bookshelves in the living room? Possibly. Let’s keep that as the number two choice.

I paused mid step in the hallway as my rectum clenched up in painful spasms. You know when the the shit starts coming down the pipe a bit more and holding it in causes painful cramps? That’s a sign you needed to find a toilet yesterday.

Time was running out as I was growing a monkey tail in my underwear. I needed to paint the Oval Office soon. Do I go in the bathtub and try to wash it down the drain? It seemed like the most private option. At this point, I could go outside for all the little D’s to see. What if Caveman Solo spied me dropping anchor in the grass like a dog? He’d probably like that.

I shivered at the thought of that shady fuckboi watching me shooting torpedoes on the side of the House of Lamentation. Why? Why didn’t they prepare this one little detail? Would it hurt these perfect, poopless men to install toilets for the one disgusting poop human?

My ass cheeks squeezed to the maximum when the final cramp hit me with a rumbling so loud it could’ve been Beelzebeef’s stomach. My cheeks gave out, and I went right in the seat of my pants. Staying in the bathroom, I locked the golden doorknob behind me. I dropped my pants, sticky brown separating from the cotton of my dollar store underwear. I glared at the brown curl in the seat of my panties with disgust. "I hate you," I whispered with all my vitriol.

I threw my clothing into a sagging, sad pile in the corner. I stood buck naked with my legs obscenely wide over the drain, squatting as much as my shortened Achilles’ tendons allowed. I inhaled and exhaled slowly to relax my sphincter. Warm ropes slid through my rectum like a monorail. I waited until I heard the soft plop in the drain. Sighing, I was about to stand up when another bout of the shits hit me, and this time it wasn’t as neat as the turd I just birthed. Before I could gather myself and clean my mess, a second violent episode of the shits gripped me. At this point, I was already half standing and no longer perfectly aiming over the drain. A typhoon of liquid ass viciously blasted the white tiles.

I panicked, and the more anxious I got, the worse the diarrhea became. I decided to accept the situation and let it all out.

“It will all be over with soon,” I said out loud. “And then I can clean it.”

With that being said, I pushed like a mother in labor. Pressure built inside my belly and travelled down to my colon until it exited my body in mere seconds. I became lost in the moment. I don’t know how much time passed, but it felt like the best time of life. Being so far gone in my poophoria, a moan escaped my mouth. Oh, the relief I felt in my guts! For hours I had held it inside me until the feces seemed to be sentient. It came out on its own.

My sweet moment was disrupted by a knocking at the door.

“Oi! Meridia!” Knock! Knock! “What’s going on in there? The smell is awful, and I gotta take a piss!”

Oh, fuck! Mammon’s timing couldn’t have been worse! Fuckfuckfuckfuck. I had to squeeze my cheeks together to restrain in the rest of the shitstorm while I looked around for paper towels. What was I supposed to say?

“Uh ... J-just a minute! Just taking an extra long bath!” My voice faltered.

“I gotta pee, so I’m comin’ in,” he answered. “It shouldn’t interrupt your bath!”

Goddammit!

Before I could stop him, Mammon turned the doorknob. The gold knob turned slowly, the door opened the slowest I’ve ever seen a door open. It creaked and squeaked ever so loudly, and I feared it would attract more attention. My stomach dropped again resulting in a tiny spurt of brown goo. White hair and brown skin poked through the door. First his head came through the crack like a little prairie dog. Then the crack opened wider as a RAD uniform appeared. The hands that were on the demon’s hips flew up to his nose as he gagged.

“Ack! What is that sme—” My boyfriend stopped talking as he stared at the Pollock-esque brown masterpiece I made all over the tiles.

“Meridia! What’s that comin’ outta your ass?!” He screamed.

My legs quaked with each spasm of shit I held back. It was useless. My cheeks jiggled with one final effort as a downpour of liquid brown splattered the tiles below me. Mammon was panicking, and I needed to explain this before he called his brothers for an emergency.

“Please calm down!” I begged. “I’m pooping!” My arms waved around agitatedly as I attempted to explain defecation to his confused face. “It’s a human thing. Please, just help me clean this fucking mess!”

Mammon seemed even more confused and distressed. His arms flailed all over the place in confusion. 

“What does this even mean?” His voice cracked out. “Does your shit need to ... go back inside ya ass?!” 

What? Oh, god no. I hope he doesn’t try that!

“No! Just, please don’t call attention to this!” I hissed. “I need you to bring me towels so I can clean this mess up.”

I hoped I could get through to him, because he gazed with a half-mile stare at my brown splattered masterpiece on the walls. 

“Mammon!” I snapped him out of his shock. “Get. Me. Towels!” 

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, thing.” 

Poor little guy. He sounded ill. It wasn’t long before the white-haired tsundere came back with a bunch of white towels. I palmed my face.

“White towels? Human excrement will stain those so much!” I said.

He shrugged. “I guess we’re gonna have brown towels at the end of the night.”

Taking one from the stack to wrap around my body, I was able to set about frantically mopping my midnight regret off the walls and floor. Maybe the most difficult part was scooping my mess out of the bathtub drain. I turned to Mammon and was immediately floored by the sight of the demon with his jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and shirt unbuttoned. Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I think I was freakishly turned on by the smell of shit. His body odor combined with the scent of fecal lasagna twisted something primal inside of my core. I looked down at my hand, remember that I was squeezing an ice cream scoop sized clump of doodoo in my hand. I shook my head to snap out of my arousal before my thoughts went somewhere taboo. 

I hurled the crap clog inside a garbage bag, which reminded me of the lack of a toilet. 

“So, we need to talk to Lucifer rather discreetly about installing a toilet in the house,” I reminded Mammon. “On second thought, let’s just see if Diavolo can put toilets everywhere.”

Mammon shook his head. “Why didn’t ya just say something earlier, human?” he said. “When you asked me about the toilet earlier, ya coulda just explained it to me. I think I heard something about Diavolo having putting those in RAD just for the human students.” 

I froze. “You ... What?!”

He gulped. “Uhh, yeah. How’d ya think Solomon shits?” 

My body began to shake in anger. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

He stopped when my emotions started to show. “Hey, now. I’m sorry. It just slipped our minds.” 

My jaw tensed as vengeful ideas played through my shit-addled brain. Leaning over the tub, I eyed the drain deviously as a new set of spasms wrapped my bowels in their grasp. 

“Mammon,” I eyed him sideways. “We’ve cleaned enough in here, and I need to bathe.” 

He stopped scrubbing to wipe sweat off his sexy forehead. “If ya say so. Call me if ya need me human.” 

Before he left, we made out like teenagers, my soiled hand leaving smudges in his clean, white hair.

When I was finally alone, I dropped my fluffy white, brown smudged towel on the clean tiles. Stepping inside the shower, I marveled at the freshly cleaned tub. Sad I would have to soil it again. 

Once more positioning my legs vulgarly wide over the drain, I unleashed everything. No holding back.

[redstarwriting]

Young & Dangerous

Platonic!Steve Rogers x Reader

Request: “I have a request regarding the OG Avengers. Let's say reader is the youngest member on the team, maybe still a minor, and despite having already proved themselves, they feel inferior to the rest of the team. Fluffy reassurance is needed, maybe with Steve or anyone else you care to write about at the moment. But no romance with this one please.”

Word Count: 1,310

Genre: Fluff | Angst | Platonic

Warnings: Language, Self deprecation, Not feeling good enough

A/N: ANOTHER ONE wow look at this!!! I’m feeling a lot better so hopefully I can just constantly write and post stuff! This request didn’t specify a gender, so I made it gender neutral. I have some requests that I still need to write, but I’ll still take new ones! It just might take a hot minute until I write them. I’m a very slow writer, as you all can probably tell lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one!

───────────────────────────────────

This was just another day of you being curled up in a ball under your comforter, wondering why you were even living in the Avengers Tower with the greatest heroes on Earth. It didn’t matter to you that you’ve proven yourself time and time again to the others, you just didn’t feel good enough. Ever. A lot of your insecurities stemmed from the other Avengers being so much older than you. Since you were only sixteen, you felt like an inadequate member of the team. I mean, come on. Steve was in triple digits and Thor was in quadruple digits. And you just got the okay to drive- as long as you got a permit and had six months of driving with a guardian under your belt. Tying in with the age inferiority, your experience was far less than theirs. While they were out stopping bad guys and training to become super spies, you were sitting in gym class watching Captain America tell everyone the importance of being able to do twenty-five push-ups and run a mile. You may have had an interesting and hard to beat power, but you weren’t experienced enough. You were horrified you would mess up someday and engulf the entirety of your team in flames.

You honestly just had a ridiculous amount of doubts about yourself, and the rest of the Avengers noticed. They also noticed that today was classified as one of your “bad days,” but so far this “bad day” has been a “bad week.” You weren’t training. If you came to the kitchen to get food, you wouldn’t say anything more above “hey” or “hi,” and then you’d go right back to your room. You would proceed to stay there for the rest of the day and all throughout the night.

“I just don’t get it,” Nat says, arms crossed as she stares down the hallway toward your room. “Come on, I’m sure when you were younger you sometimes felt like you weren’t good enough. It’s teenager stuff,” Steve answers her, although he also doesn’t understand why you would be like this. “Well, yes, but (Y/N) can literally shoot fire from their fingertips. They’ve made it pretty obvious to us that they’re capable of taking on like, 15 men at once and beating all of them. Their age shouldn’t make them feel like this, it just doesn’t make sense.” “I know that, Nat. So does Tony, Banner, Barton, and Thor but (Y/N) just focuses on their flaws. It honestly reminds me of when I was that age. Believe it or not, I didn’t always look like this, and I always doubted myself. We just handle it in different ways. I would try as hard as I could to push the thoughts of being inferior and smaller than everyone else out of my mind, always standing up for what I believed in and never backing down from a fight even though I would get absolutely pummeled in them. (Y/N) just succumbs to their thoughts and can’t do anything but feel like they aren’t good enough,” Steve tells Nat, who raises her eyebrow. “You know they had before and after pictures of you, right? For science? I know what you looked like but that’s beside the point. You sound like you know exactly what (Y/N)’s going through. Why don’t you go talk to them?”

“You think I should?” “Yeah, I mean, our elders are wiser than us after all. And you’re like, literally almost 100 years older than they are,” Nat pokes fun at him, and he smiles and rolls his eyes. “You know I look pretty good for a man going on 102 years old,” he tells her and she scoffs. “Just go talk to them, Rogers.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” he says, walking away from Nat with a grin on his face. She smiles, walking to the living area convinced that he can definitely help you out. You hear a gentle knock on your door, and you sigh muttering a quiet, “Come in.” You hear your door open and then close, but you’re facing the opposite direction so who just entered is beyond you. Until you hear him speak. “Hey, Hot Shot. You doing okay?” you hear Steve ask, and you turn to look at him. “Does it look like I’m doing okay?”

“No, no it doesn’t,” he says, walking over to your desk to grab you chair. he pulls it out, then straddles the back of it with a sigh. “So, you’re feeling down.”

“Oh my god stop it, I don’t need a lecture from Captain America I get that enough at school,” you say, but a small smile appears on your lips. “Well then how about a lecture from your good friend, Steve Rogers?” he suggests, and you roll your eyes. “Fine.” You sit up, pulling your legs to your chest as he moves over to sit on your bed with you. “What’s got you so down, kid?”

“It’s just… I don’t know. You guys are all just so… good at being heroes. If I mess up even a little bit I’ll just bring death and destruction to everyone in my general area. Not to mention you guys are all actual adults and I’m literally a child. I’m still in high school, Steve. High school. You went to high school in like, the 1930’s. I’m just not… good enough for this. I’m dangerous and young and stupid and not good enough to be considered an Avenger, let alone live in the Avenger’s Tower.”

Steve nods, analyzing everything you just said before starting to talk. “Well, (Y/N), you’re just as good as us. In fact, do I need to tell you how many times you’ve saved all of us? Because I know. And it’s a lot. Just because you’re younger than us doesn’t mean you aren’t good at what you do. I know your powers can be dangerous and destructive, but have you lost control of them yet? No, you haven’t. You’re a strong-willed person and I’ve never seen someone with as much control over what they can do as I have when I see you fight. Not even Banner knows how to control his powers like you can control yours. I know how hard it can be, feeling like you just aren’t good enough. I felt like that for 20 years of my life, and I still fell like that sometimes. But I can assure you that no one here thinks you aren’t good enough. Except for yourself. When we saw what you could do, we brought you onto the team because we saw how amazing you really were. We saw a drive in you that was so much stronger than any of ours. You really shouldn’t put yourself down so much, because you’re quite literally the most impressive and amazing member on this team.”

You look at him, tears threatening to escape your eyes. “But what if I-”

“(Y/N), you’re enough. All of these ‘what if’s’ are just your insecurities making you overthink what you do. Sure, feeling like you aren’t good enough is a normal feeling, but anytime you feel like that you need to tell yourself that you are good enough. Because you are,” he tells you, and you feel a tear roll down your cheek. You quickly wipe it away, giving him a small smile. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Any time kid. Now, what do you say we go get you something to eat,” he suggests, standing up from your bed. You follow suit, feeling much better about yourself. Knowing you had support from the rest of your team really helped improve how you saw yourself, even if your mind made you doubt your abilities many times. You still had a long way to go before accepting yourself totally, but this was a good start.

[nightglider124]

#50 from the 100 prompts. Dickory reassuring a young, frustrated Jake because he hasn't shown a sliver of Tamaranean powers, except for maybe super strength.

“Nothing is wrong with you.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face before dragging his fingers through his dark tresses of hair, a total sense of loss overwhelming him. It was unfamiliar; this feeling of uncertainty since he was usually the man with a plan and all the answers.

Dick had always been that guy; the leader and the one to know what to say.

But, when it came to his kids… he could be at a loss. 

He leaned against the kitchen counter, counting the incessant ticks of the clock on the far wall. The silence around him was deafening as he waited for news to come from his wife who he could hear upstairs, trying to draw their son out of his room for a bout of consoling. 

It had been fine, he thought. They’d conducted a little sparring session and some training down in the gym of their home before sitting down for dinner. 

Jake’s sudden outburst of frustration at the dining table had caught all of them off guard; even the aging Silkie who had been curled up in his bed in the corner of the room. It was unlike their son to behave in such a way; the usually quiet and calculating nature that he showed had dissipated and was replaced by a seemingly teetering irritation.

He’d pushed himself away from the table, leaving his food uneaten and to go cold before he’d stormed up to his room and locked himself inside.

Dick perked up at the telltale footsteps of his wife, coming down the set of stairs. Kory entered the kitchen and sighed, giving him an unhappy frown.

“Did he speak?” Dick wondered, eyeing the look of fatigue on his wife’s face.

“Not that I heard.” She returned, coming to lean on the counter opposite him, “I spoke to him through the door… let him know we were here if he needed us but… I got nothing…”

“You didn’t go inside?”

Her brows knitted together, “His door was closed, Dick. After his explosion at dinner… I believe the last thing he wants is for his mother to stroll in and disrespect his privacy like that.”

Dick nodded, supposing she had a point, “He was fine before… was training with me and Mar’i without a care in the world.”

“I think you may be mistaken about that, my love.”

“I can’t figure it out, Kor… he’s never like this.” Dick explained, shaking his head in utter confusion,

“Perhaps it is… the hormones… he is 14 years old… I believe he may just be at the angrier stage of his life. Every child experiences it.”

“I don’t think I did.”

Kory issued him a look of disbelief, an auburn brow raised in challenge, “Oh? You were never angry as a teenager, no?”

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Maybe slightly…”

She shook her head and laughed, “Perhaps you would have better luck trying to speak to him.”

“How’s that?” 

“Perhaps… he wishes to speak to the only other male in the house… he has always been close with you, Dick. Maybe he would rather open up to his father.”

The knight of Bludhaven chewed on his lower lip, processing that and he nodded. With a loud exhale, Dick pushed himself away from the edge of the counter. He wandered towards the door but not without giving Kory a quick kiss to the lips, before he jogged up the stairs. 

When he reached the landing, he glanced at Mar’i’s door and appreciated her staying low until things with Jake were resolved. She had tried to console him straight away at dinner, only for her younger brother to growl and snatch his arm away from her fingertips. 

That had been a shock; usually the two of them were inseparable and told each other absolutely everything. 

Dick stopped just outside of his son’s room, hesitating as he lifted his knuckles to the wood. Taking a deep breath, he knocked twice and waited for some kind of acknowledgement.

When none came, he leaned up against the door frame, “Jake? Kiddo? It’s dad…”

Silence continued to fill the space between him and his child, causing Dick to shift uncomfortably. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the doorknob and turned it, letting the door open to reveal the room behind it,

At first, he couldn’t see Jake but then he spied the window at the end of his room, the one with a seat, looking out over the backyard. He was sitting with his knees drawn up, his face towards the glass,

“Jakey?” Dick murmured, staying at the threshold in case he wasn’t welcome in the room after all,

Jake sighed and briefly looked at his knees before he quietly spoke, “Hey dad…”

“Am I okay to come in?”

A nod in the growing darkness as the evening drew on.

Dick made his way through Jake’s room, smiling as he passed his desk; photos of their family pinned up on the noticeboard behind his computer. There were even a couple with Bruce which Dick was surprised to see.

He reached his son and took a seat on the cushioned window sill. Dick waited for what felt like an hour for Jake to say something, to open up and spill what his mind had been dwelling on.

“Jake…” He sighed,

“Why am I different, dad?”

His dark brows hit his hairline, not expecting his son to say anything like that, 

“What?”

Jake blinked his green eyes at the window, watching as the shining stars began to gather in clusters for the night, “Why am I not normal?”

“You are-”

He shook his head, “But, I’m not. It… became pretty clear tonight that I’m not.” 

“What are you talking about, kiddo?”

Jake swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to steel his nerves to be honest about what he was feeling, 

“Today… when we were training downstairs…” He paused, “It made me realize that I’m not normal or at least… not normal for this family.”

“Jake-”

“Dad, I don’t have powers. I’m supposed to have the starbolts and the flight and even the super strength but… I don’t have any of it.”

Dick frowned; it was a concern of his and Kory’s that Jake had yet to develop any sign of powers but they were monitoring him; watching and waiting and just keeping a general eye on him.

“Sometimes, it just takes a while for the powers to kick in-”

Jake looked at him suddenly, his expression stricken, “Dad, Mar’i got her powers when she was 5 years old! I’m 14 and I’ve got nothing at all.”

“Buddy, powers aren’t everything-”

He exhaled loudly and crossed his arms over his chest, “You don’t get it… I feel like… there’s something wrong with me… that I’m not normal because I’m not like mom or Mar’i in the slightest.”

Dick sat forward, touching Jake’s shoulder as he gave him a serious expression, “Jake… Nothing is wrong with you, okay? You’re just a normal kid and the powers will come; you’re just a late bloomer, that’s all.”

“How can you be so sure?” Jake asked and Dick thought he could see unshed tears in his son’s eyes,

“I can’t be… I wish I knew all the answers but… even after 20 years with your mother, I still have no idea about Tamaranian physiology. Don’t forget… your mom wasn’t born with her powers so everything is a question with them.”

“I just… wish they would come through already. I feel more like a freak without them.”

Dick offered him a sympathetic smile, “How do you think I feel? I’m the plainest, most normal one in this family.”

Jake laughed and sniffled, “Yeah but you’ve got the cool gymnastics and gadgets and stuff.”

“Yeah and you know what? If your powers… hypothetically, don’t make an appearance, we’ll make sure you know all my moves and have every weapon so that you don’t feel like you’re missing out, okay?”

His son gave him a meek smile and nodded, “Yeah… okay…”

“And, I would talk to mom about this too. She might have more answers for you and if you’re really nervous about it… we can contact Galfore and we can get Raven to give you a check, see if the energy is budding somewhere in there, alright?”

Jake leaned up on his knees and threw his arms around his father, “Thanks dad…” 

Dick hugged him back and rubbed his shoulder, “If you feel like this Jake, never bottle it up, okay? That’s one Tamaranian trait that I know… they’re always open with emotions…”

“Really?” Jake asked, pulling back,

“Of course. Have you never noticed your mom?” Dick asked in disbelief,

Jake burst into laughter and rubbed his sleeve against his nose, “I don’t think I’m quite like that…”

Dick tousled his son’s jet black hair, “Nah… you’re more like me. Keep it close to the chest.”

Smiling, Jake felt an ease in his heart and held a flicker of hope that things would work out, regardless of the outcome.

[fullmetalscullyy]

Do you mind doing 23 for me from the prompt list? I need a good laugh after writing my own depressive crap. :)

slowly starting to make my way through these :’) this one i actually struggled with for an idea for a while but i hope this has satisfied the humour quota and is ok ahaha

rated: t | words: 1189

“i want your pretty little psycho”

Roy tugged his wrists against the restraints, testing whether theywould break free from the rope binding them or not. No such luck. He’d expectedless, if Roy was being perfectly honest.

This entire situation was a farce, but it was entertaining. The only downsidewas being stuck here with Edward Elric and having to listen to his incessant rambling.Roy had rolled his eyes more times in this last hour than he had in his entirelife.

The boy was a nightmare.

However, it kept their kidnapper busy. Well, “kidnapper”. The man was atwo-bit criminal and completely hopeless. Their bonds were tight – the onlyprofessional part of this operation – but he hadn’t removed Roy’s ignition gloves.One brush of his fingers and he’d be free. This was entertaining though,listening to Edward antagonise the man. Their kidnapper had no idea how toreact, being only able to stutter in disbelief.

It was like they’d been kidnapped by a bumbling teenager.

How embarrassing.

But Edward couldn’t make fun of Roy for this one because it was Edward’sfault they were in this mess in the first place. Tell him that though, and Roywould have to face a third rant – in which their kidnapper just lookedbetween them both, totally lost as to why this teenager was screaming indignantlyat an adult – so he opted to keep his mouth shut.

Chloroform was a bitch, even a weak dose like the one they’d beengiven. Not unexpected after watching this hopeless and terrible excuse for akidnapper for the last hour.

“Why are we even here?” Edward growled in anger, struggling against hisrestraints. The stranger’s attention was off Roy for the moment, so he brushedhis fingers together, turning his rope to ash.

“Why don’t you ask him,” the man stated, jerking his head towardsRoy.

“That dumbass doesn’t know a thing,” Edward snorted.

Roy turned his head and frowned at his subordinate. “Fullmetal,” hestated disapprovingly. Edward just shrugged, that shit-eating grin on his faceas a response.

“You guys are weird,” the man stated after a moment of silence, gaze switchingthe two of them.

“Coming from the man who’s kidnapped two people,” Roy stated, barking alaugh. He couldn’t help it. The amusement bubbled up in his chest and the laughwas inevitable. This day was becoming more surreal but the minute.

“There was a reason for this,” he glared.

“What is it then?” Edward asked in exasperation. “Come on, you’vebeaten around the bush for the last hour and if I’m being taken against mywill, I want to know what for!”

The man straightened his spine. “You have something I want.”

“I highly doubt that,” Roy interjected, but he ignored him.

“And by bringing you two here, that person will come.”

“Who?” Edward asked, still lost, but from the way he was looking at Roy andfrom that awful gleam in his eye, Roy felt his stomach sink. He had an inklingas to who this person was referring to.

“I want your pretty little psycho,” the man stated, eyes sharp as hebent at the waist, coming face-to-face with Roy. It was the most self-assuredhe’d looked since they’d been tied up an hour ago.

Well, it was an accurate description of Hawkeye. She’d gone apeshitwhen she saw them being dragged away, unconscious (after another of Edward’sbright ideas, Roy might add), and bundled into a van to be kidnapped. The lastthing Roy saw before that door closed was Hawkeye running at full speed towardsthem, a face like thunder, as she pursued this man.

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING A PSYCHOPATH?” Edward suddenly shrieked in anger,launching himself at the man, ripping his wrists through the rope with his angeralone.

Ah well, not so professional after all. Well, one can’t win them all.

“Fullmetal, he wasn’t talking about you – never mind,” Roy mutteredbefore he sighed, facepalming and shaking his head as Edward laid into the guy,his automail arm packing more of a punch than he thought it would.

Just then, the door behind them opened and Hawkeye entered through it, weaponraised, with Havoc and Breda behind her. The “psycho” in question watchedEdward for a moment, bewildered at the sudden anger, then lowered her weaponand approached her superior. “That was… an unexpected greeting.”

“I honestly don’t know how to react to it.” Roy stopped hiding hisother not-bound hand and stood from his chair. “I’ve been dealing with it forthe last hour.”

“Wait… Your hands weren’t bound?” she asked, confused.

Roy shook his head. “I got myself out of them about ten minutes ago.”

“If you could get yourself out of this, why didn’t you do it sooner?”she frowned disapprovingly.

Roy shrugged. “It was too entertaining.”

“You were kidnapped,” she stressed.

“Oh boy, this wasn’t a kidnapping. If there had been food, it wouldhave been dinner and a show.”

“Should we stop him?” Hawkeye asked quietly, leaning in towards Roy. Thescent of her perfume was light but when it hit him, he faltered, savouring it.It made his stomach flip in response and he couldn’t help but grin.

“Nah. Let him have at it. The poor kid needs to let off a little steamafter that last hour. Plus, he called you a “pretty little psycho”.” Roy shudderedat that look he’d seen in their kidnapper’s eyes. It made his skin crawl. “I’dsay he deserves it.”

Hawkeye raised an eyebrow but moved to stop Edward regardless. She levelledher weapon at the criminal – joining Havoc and Breda – as the man whimperedfeebly on the floor. When he spied Hawkeye, he stopped, and his mouth fell openin shock.

“Oh my god,” he whispered reverently. Roy felt his fingers twitch,wanting to curl up into a fist.

“Let’s go,” Hawkeye stated, placing cuffs on his wrists before he couldmove. She hauled him to his feet, keeping an arm on the crook of his elbow asshe guided him towards the door. “You and I need to have a little chat.”

“It will just be me and you?” the man asked in wonder.

Roy clenched his fists by his side and counted to ten.

“Oh yeah,” she replied, sarcasm dripping from her tone. Roy smirked asshe caught his eye in passing and rolled her eyes. “I’ll escort you all the way to yourdestination.”

The poor guy was too smitten to realise she meant jail.

Roy was half tempted to turn him to ash right there but restrainedhimself. He had handcuffs on, after all. What more could the guy do to her?

“Really?” the man asked, face brightening up.

“Uh hu. It will just be you and me, pal. It’s too bad there’s no tableservice on the way to jail. I feel like I should pay you back for the “psycho”comment.” Their kidnapper stiffened and Roy chuckled from behind them. Hawkeyeshrugged. “No matter. We’ll still have plenty to discuss in the interrogationroom.”

Roy chuckled once more.

That’s my girl.

[zeitism]

First off: Do not reblog this. I was nice enough to leave a few personals in my followers list, don’t make me regret it. This meta is mainly for me to kind of get things straight in my own head.

Like with every single post where I try putting my thoughts into words, this is gonna be rambly and go every which way. Read if you want or don’t.

Mephisto is... such a stupidly complicated character. And he, I think, more than any character within this series, is so ridiculously open to interpretation by each and every single individual who sees him. Frankly, I don’t think any of us who aren’t Kazue Kato will every really come to capital T Totally understand him or his motives for his actions. 

Not long after chapter 109 dropped, someone in the big fandom Discord server started talking about how they were worried/believed Mephisto is actually some big bad antagonist hiding in plain sight. And yea, I can see where one might get that idea. Mephisto isn’t exactly subtle. He drives home the point that he’s a demon. He shouldn’t be expected to act human?

Let me just... Try to break things down. Both so I myself can get a grasp on things and so that others here might as well.

Mephisto isn’t tied down by our human bullshit. Moral and emotions and fear of consequences for actions taken. He seems very much like a “The ends always justify the means” type. He takes action. Actions humans are too weak to take for themselves. 

In chapter 66 Mephisto says that he was testing everyone. 

Yes, everyone is a piece in “his game”. He had a hand in each and everyone one of their lives which lead them all to where they are. As I said before in other posts (that I believe I’ve deleted because personals reblogged them or something) Mephisto can’t actively control people. He can’t reach into their heads and make them do exactly what he wants. They have to do things of their own accord.

Do people just not understand that there is no such thing as "right and wrong", "good and bad"? They're strictly human consumpts and mean nothing at all outside of humanity. Which Mephisto, and others, clearly state time and time again that he is. It's like- You can't DO that. You can't simultaneously shun Mephisto from your kind and your world yet still expect him to act according to your moral and ethical principles! 

Like when Rin tells Mephisto that he can't treat people like that in chapter 66- I really just. "You can't, what with your “consciences" and all that-" He's the only one that's willing and able to do the shit that needs to be done in order to get the best possible outcome for humanity.  

Humans always want to try and find the easy way out. The safe way out. Mephisto doesn't. He sees what needs to happen and does his best to guide people down that path, all the while planning ahead who knows how many steps in order to always be able to counteract the fact that humans are so fucking self-destructive. Just as likely to be working against their best interests as for them if they perceive things one way or another. And he may not have emotions like humans do, but he sure as hell knows how they work. 

Like, he was around humans even before breaking off from Lucifer and founding the Order. If there were ever a master of human physiology, it would be Mephisto. He’s lived and worked closely with humans for over two hundred years now, and again was around them even longer before that. He knows what makes them tick, knows how to look for and study and use all their little triggers and ticks and thought processes and use them to get what he needs out of them. Everything is fine-tuned to each person. 

Like the way, he overworks Yukio to the point he betrays his only living family and his friends. Things were piled and piled and piled on top of him until he finally broke under the weight of it all. Without that happening, Rin would have never fully awakened (well he would but it wouldn't be at the right time), and wouldn't be in the past learning everything Yukio was just plain too desperate to know. He’s consumed by it. By the need for knowledge and now, power. Because for whatever ridiculous reason he sees himself as weak and useless when, frankly, he’s not. 

And on that note of Rin being in the past- When he saw his newborn self start murdering people straight out of the friggin’ womb- I firmly believe that this is going to be important to Rin’s character development. We saw that, way back in Kyoto, Rin somewhat starting to acknowledge his demon-ness. No, he didn’t ask to be born. Didn’t ask to be born the way he was. But he is here and he’s going to make the best of it. Mephisto is, I believe, pushing this acceptance of himself along. Showing Rin that, yea, he started out as this way, but look what he is now. That little fire-clad baby chewing a mans face off is now the teenage boy who would, and has, put his life on the line to save his friends. 

When Demon!Rin started breaking through whatever little pocket dimension Mephisto stuffed Rin’s demon heart into, did he just let it happen? No. He let him throw his little fit for a couple seconds then popped him back in his time-out corner. Then stuffed Rin in a corner of his own to chill out and get a grip on himself again. 

While still on this note, it’s safe to say Rin isn’t actually spending all those years watching Shiro and Yuri grow up. He’s been bouncing back and forth between points in time- Possibly even beyond Mephisto’s control, as we saw him be surprised at one point that the started out in one year, went forward five (Don’t quote me on that), and then went back again.

And he’s still not seen the reason he and Yukio were allowed to live. What made Shiro go from “I’m going to save Yuri by killing her monster children” to “That boy is MY son”, so I think time is possibly frozen at the point where Rin started losing control of his emotions and gets locked away to chill for a while and get them back under control. Which is the whole reason Mephisto sent him back in time in the first place? He even said to himself. 

That “The reality that your brother must accept isn’t the past. The past what you must accept”. Rin needs to fully accept himself for who and what he is if he actually wants to be of any use. Wasn’t that the whole overarching point in the Kyoto sage? He couldn’t draw his sword and use his flames until he stopped fearing them? 

There’s also the other character arcs- Where we saw that Mephisto got to Renzou before the Illuminati did, and knew full well that he would be a spy not only for the Order, for but for the Illuminati as well once they did get to him. And there’s Izumo- It’s probably safe to assume that the blonde woman who got Tsukumo (her little sister) out of the Inori lab was one of the Order’s other spies Mephisto talks about. Mephisto put her in a safe place without telling Izumo because it would likely impede her own growth. He knew about her past, knew where she was taken, knew what was going to happen to her, and yet sent the gang out to rescue her all on their own. And with Yukio leading, too. Putting him in charge of their safety. 

I got off point again, I’m sure, but when talking about Mephisto- I feel it’s important to provide context. Or maybe I’m just rambling like an idiot and wasting everyone's time. 

Mephisto isn't "good", because that doesn't exist But he's sure as hell far from "bad", because doesn't exist either. He’s an asshole. An annoying, creepy, cryptic little bastard, who by his own admission “knows everything”, yet never tells anyone anything until he sees fit or just not at all. Letting them find things out for themselves. 

When Rin got all up in Mephisto’s face in chapter 66, Mephisto was nearly fed up with him. It’s not HIS fault Rin can’t see the bigger picture in things. It’s not HIS fault humans have their ridiculous senses of right and wrong. And Mephisto lets his irritation show by quoting one of the last things Shiro said to Rin on the day he died.

A dick fucking move, right? Stabbing a knife straight through one of Rin’s weakest sore spots? Rin kind of deserved it, really. Getting all up in Mephisto’s face like he did, flames and all, going on about how evil Mephisto COULD be, and why he should listen to him in the first place, never listening to him when Mephisto tells him that he is not their enemy. 

And when kid Shiro also got all hands-y with Mephisto- Telling him how one day he’d tear out Mephisto’s throat with his teeth. Which- Fair, right? Shiro grew up in an awful place and suffered through things that no one should. Yet Mephisto still told him the truth of it. How Shiro was creatated by Mephisto for a purpose and one way or another, and he can make all the threats and promises he wants, but he’s still going to fulfill that purpose. Which he does in the end. Oh, he killed and killed and killed demons, became Paladin- But in the end, he was a sacrifice to a demon. A sacrifice to Satan to save the life of a child he once vowed to kill and instead raised as his own. He was also a sacrifice to make Rin draw his sword and start this whole adventure. 

It’s so easy to look at Mephisto through the eyes of an ignorant, simple-minded human. To take him and his actions at face value. But when you try to look past that, I think, the picture becomes more clear. 

Again, no, Mephisto isn’t “good”. He’s no Arthur, he’s no Rin, he’s Mephisto. He’s a “person” using his means and his skills to ensure the continuation of the human race. Yea, those methods are cruel. He has done and will continue to do horrific and inhumane things to people. But they have their purposes. Without what happened to Shiro, how he came to be and what he went through, he would not have been the man he was. You know that “You must simply live on” quote he said to Shura? It came from knowing life will constantly chew you up and spit you out, but it’s important to roll with the punches and make the best out of the scars they leave behind.  

Without awakening and watching the only father he’s ever known die right before his eyes, without Yukio shooting and basically (down right) killing him, Rin would not be in the past right now, learning the why of it all. Yukio, too, would not be own his path of self-discovery/acceptance. The jury is still out on what exactly he’s going to find while in the Dominus Liminis. 

[bemorecronch]

The Hand that Flannels (Male Reader X Jared Kleinman)

For that one anon! Sorry it's not smutty, WARNING: light making out and some fluff, swearing and drinking. You placed the empty cup down on the mantle. Fuck this party. The music was terrible and you barely knew anyone; Brooke was the only girl you knew and she’d ditched you for her girlfriend Chloe, but she was also your ride home. You didn't want to stand in the corner and be miserable so you made the very conscious decision to get drunk as fuck. You were only three beers in and weren't feeling anything. Glancing around the room you planned your route to grab another drink, but were stopped in your tracks by a figure standing in front of you. It was Jared. Shit. He was such an asshole. That one kid who very openly laughed when someone got the answer wrong, or who thought his sarcastic comments were the most important part of a conversation. He leaned against the wall, “didn't think you came to things like this.” “Didn't think you got invited to things like this.” You shot back. You think you saw him flinch for half a second but he shrugged it off, “my parents rang the hosts parents so- not that I'm bragging.” He was smirking and you raised your eyebrows, “wow.” Sarcasm dripping from you. He leaned back, “so why you here?” He changed the subject quickly and you both started moving towards the beer, “my friend said she'd stick with me if I came.” “Where is she?” “No idea.” You see him smile a little, “yeah I've got no one to talk to either.” You cocked your head to the side and smirked, “you mean constantly correcting people and judging them doesn't overwhelm you with friends?” You're tone is a little lighter and playful and you see him relax, “shut up.” There's a second where you think you might be enjoying his company, “so your plan is what? Get drunk and try to like the people here?” He asked and you nodded, taking a drink and handing it to him before grabbing one for yourself, “pretty much. You?” “Find someone as miserable looking as me to hang out with until my mom picks me up.” You choke on your drink as your eyes light up, “your mom?” You repeat and see him duck his head, “look, I don't have a car what was I meant to do?” He spoke quick and a little aggressively and you out your hand up in surrender, “I was just messing with you… My friend can probably give you a ride home if it means you won't be beaten up quite so severely by literally anyone who sees you getting in your mothers car.” You try to make it sound casual and he looks up, “yeah. Ok. Thanks… I'll text my mom.” He brings out his phone and sends a message, looking back at you a little embarrassed. There's a moment when you look at him that you swear you can see him blush, but he downs his drink quickly after, so it's hard to tell. As what feels like the hundredth person pushes past you, you look around- “it's way too crowded, wanna go outside?” He nods, “god yeah. What about your friend?” You look quickly to seeing Brooke doing body shots off her girlfriend, “yeah I’m sure she’s good.” You both pushed past the now fully drunk teenagers to let the cool air hit you. It wasn't exactly cold, but in a t-shirt you could feel yourself shudder. He glanced at you and wordlessly took off his flannel shirt and out it around you, “smooth.” You mutter, nudging him. He rubs the back of his neck, “whatever. Don't bite the hand that flannels.” You smirk and pull it around you a little closer, grateful as a breeze hit you. “You're a lot nicer than you come across.” It was more a subconscious thought, and you're not entirely sure how it found itself outside your head, but once you said it he let out a loud, bizarre laugh. Like if a bouncy-ball had hiccups in an echoey hall. He grinned, “you too.” You must look a little offended because he looks panicked, “I just mean- you know, you're so quiet and you roll your eyes a lot.” You feel yourself biting backs smile, “well you say some obnoxious shit. Someone should be rolling their eyes.” He prods your arm lightly, “I can take that flannel back anytime.” You mimic him, “I'd like to see you try.” He's smiling, and he's got a fantastic smile. You can feel yourself staring and you quickly snap your vision away. Jared looked away too, “I don't say obnoxious shit.” He chuckled, and you leaned against the door frame, “yes. You do. You said 80’s movies were terrible.” “And I stand by it.” “Alright,” you turn to him and pull the flannel tight as another gust come through, “we have to have an 80’s movie night. Breakfast club, Lost Boys, Ferris Bueller, all of them.” He gulped hard and gave a small, shaky smile “are you asking me out on a date?” There's a heavy mocking sense to his words, but his eyes actually look a little hopeful. You feel your face flush, “get over yourself.” You laugh, now fully unable to make eye contact with him. Suddenly you feel an arm link into yourself, your heart jumps into your mouth when you think it's Jared, but you turn and see a wasted Brooke hanging off you, “babe I can't driiive.” She whines into your ear. Chloe's behind her, barely standing and supported only by holding Brooke's waist. You look at her and smile, “looks like we’re walking. You gonna be ok for a few blocks?” You ask and she nods sleepily. You turn back to Jared, “sorry- shit you cancelled your ride and everything.” He started sauntering beside you, “yeah you're a total inconvenience. I don't really have a choice except to walk with you.” You smirk, watching Chloe and Brooke walk a head giggling, “you're allowed to want to walk home with us.” You whisper, dramatically looking around for whatever spies Jared was convinced were following him, trying to catch him being nice. He shoves you with his shoulder and sighs, “yeah- I mean you did ask me out before.” You feel that familiar heat rising to your cheeks, “you're not terrible to be around. The word ‘tolerable’ comes to mind…” You watch him stuff his hands in his pockets and figure you may as well dip your toe in, linking your arm around his, you're not sure if he’s into guys or not but this is… Excusable right? This is just a friendly gesture, “…so I wouldn't mind spending some of my free time with you.” You grin and catch him staring at you before he snaps out of it, “wow. Was that Shakespeare?” He laughs You happily spend the rest of the walk like that. Comfortable jabs at each other intermingled with passive-aggressive compliments. You keep your arm around his for the walk, getting closer to one another so that in the silences you can actually rest your head on his shoulder. You wave Brooke and Chloe into Brooke’s parents house as you walk along together. You mention the movies he's definitely going to be forced into watching, and he's distraught that you haven't seen episodes 1 to 3 of Star Wars, so they too are added to an ever growing list. Once you reach your house you pause, “how're you getting home? You just sort of kept walking.” You ask. He shrugs, “I’ll text my mom again, she won't mind.” “How long will it take her to get here?” You're trying to sound casual, with the distinct feeling that you're failing. He looks at the clock on his phone, “10, 15 minutes?” He shrugged and you looked at your house. You're parents would be asleep. You shift your weight on you feet and glance at him, “you wanna like… Wait inside?” He looks up; eyes wide, “if that's ok?” You nod and lead him in and unlocking the door. He sat down on your sofa and you made your way to the kitchen. You glance in through the door frame, “Do you want tea?” “Are you gay?” You pause, “what?” “Nothing.” He stutters. You sit beside him and turn to look at his now beetroot face. You nod, “I’m attracted to guys… Is that a problem?” He shook his head, “no, it's good- I uh… I'm… That too.” he's stumbling and can't even look at you, you fight down a smile, “gay?” You ask and he nods. Every fibre of you tells you not to- but maybe those beers are effecting you more than you'd like. You watch yourself lean in and kiss him lightly on the lips, cupping the side of his face. He didn't move and your pretty sure his eyes are still open, but he lets out a small squeak. You pull away, feeling his gaze on you as you turn pink and hold your breath waiting for some sort of sign. You turn completely away and feel anxiety grow in the pit of your stomach, “Jesus I'm sor…” You start, but you can't finish. He's kissing you. His slightly chapped lips pressing against yours as the smell of way too strong cologne fills you up. You part your lips slightly and bite his bottom lip and tongues brush against the act other. You pull him slightly on top of you as he leans in between your knees. You run your hands through his hair as his hands fumble their way up to your shoulders and hold on. You fight back a smile realising quite suddenly he has no real idea what he's doing. You pull away and kiss the crook of his jaw, trying to be careful not to leave a mark. You hear him whisper your name and you bite a little harder, you never knew you could be actually turned on by a dork like Jared Kleinman. He traces a hand up the back of the thigh if your jeans and you kiss down his neck to his collar bone; sucking lightly until you heard his breath hitch. “Please…” He whimpers, “I can't get in my moms car with a boner.” He sounded desperate and you smirk, “I mean maybe don't talk- about your mom- when I'm kissing your neck.” You speak into his jaw and feel him nod, “right, sorry.” You smile, blushing as you slowly feel blood rushing from your head to your crotch. He kisses you again, ever so slightly more confident as he holds your hips and pushes back your hair, finding some sort of rhythm in himself that neither of you knew he had. You can feel your shirt riding up as he pushes his hand up your stomach to your chest. You're blushing heavily as you realise you’ve wanted this for longer than you thought. Actually, you want him to rip your clothes off you right now and pull your legs apart and just start- HONK You both freeze. He looks behind his shoulder, “was that?” HONK “Your mom’s car.” You answer, sitting up straight and pull your shirt down; trying to not look so disappointed. He stuffs his hands in his pockets trying to hide a still fairly obvious erection. He gets up slowly, sighing in pain as he stands and you get up to open the door, “see you at class?” You ask. He kisses you quickly, pecking you on the lips, “see you then.” You're embarrassed to admit you feel your heart flutter. You watch him climb into the back seat of the car and drive away. You smile to yourself as you close the door, fully aware that during that movie marathon you'd planned, neither of you would be watching any of them.

[magnus-blackhart]

The King Is Dead, Long Live the King

WHO ;  Octavius and Magnus Blackhart WHERE ; the bearorian castle. WHAT ; Octavius Blackhart’s final moments

octavius: the hunting expedition had done wonders when it came to clearing octavius’ mind of any clutter, or, at the very least, sweeping all of said clutter under a proverbial rug. he did not want to go back to thinking of strategy, of the kingdoms they were up against, so soon. this was all very well and good -- a successful hunt was a perfect excuse to have a drink of wine with one’s son. he sat down at the table in good spirits, empty goblet in front of him, and smiled at magnus. “even after a morning like that, i can’t help but wonder how kradaeca is doing.” kradaeca was a safe subject; it was, at least for the moment, not his problem.

Magnus: After fining Nathaniel dying on the cells Magnus felt like he was living in a dream, he wanted to slip back in denial but he just couldn't. Seeing his father sent a mixture of emotions to him and he was glad that he had been thought from a young age to not show any of them, he still loved his father but now he also knew that he had to be stopped and that if he had the chance he'd really become a tyrant. Magnus knew his father had ordered some man that knew a lot about plants and what now to make him some poisons and shortly before their expedition Magnus had gone and picked one up. He hoped the poison was quick and painless, he didn't want his father to suffer, which was also one of the reasons he was doing this, if he let any other the other rulers do this, they would more than likely try to torture him or make it slow. He wasn't going to let that happen. "Aren't they a bunch of pirates? We can take them again easily I'm sure." He said with a small smile "What wine would you like to have?"

octavius: he waved away the decision magnus had offered him. “i trust your judgement well enough when it comes to wine. besides, i don’t much care, and who doesn’t like surprises?” he smiled. “well, i don’t. but it will be alright, just this once. and yes. even if they aren’t pirates, they may as well be.” octavius shook his head. “where they came from i cannot say. the general consensus is that they hail from the new world; if so, i regret that we didn’t burn the place to a crisp when we left. actually, no. i don’t. i’m glad of this. whoever they are, they’ve been more than useful.”

Magnus: He nodded and went to the where the wines that were reserved for the king where. As he opened the bottle he began to hesitate, could he really murder his father? The person that Magnus cared most in the world? All his life Magnus had strived to be like him, to make him proud and now he was killing him? He was beginning to feel light headed but nothing from his stance showed any problems. The bottle he had taken was the one his father liked the most and it only had for one more serving. He poured the poison on it before turning and filling his father's goblet "I'll get another one for me." He commented casually and went to get another one, he hoped his father may drank of the contents of the goblet while Magnus was looking away because he didn't want to see him drink the poison. He opened the other bottle and return to pour himself some of the wine...he may end the whole thing. "I had thought we killed all of them, anyway even if they hadn't attacked, Kradaeca has never been known for being good at anything to do with war so, they wouldn't have been a problem anyway."

octavius: “i never thought we’d killed all of them,” octavius said. “it is a terrible idea to assume a total victory like that. i think one should always assume there were survivors, or else said potential survivors will find it far easier to rise up and destroy those who destroyed them. and aye, they wouldn’t have been a problem. but they’re even less of a nonissue now, and they’ve helped. do you think taking bearoria would have been so easy if not for nathaniel -- may he rest in peace -- having sent troops to help kradaeca fight their invaders off?” he took a sip of the wine magnus had poured for him absently. “i always forget,” he said, “the reasons this is my favorite. and then i drink it again, and all understanding is restored.”

Magnus: "Didn't we left those two that claimed to be the rulers of the place alive? Well that decision turned out to bad for the other kingdoms." At the moment Magnus didn't even know what he truly meant and what he didn't, his mind was a blur full of contradictory opinions, and guilt. However he also felt that what he was doing was the right thing to do. He cursed that his father was taking his time, but of course he would it was his favorite and his last bottle in Bearoria, he was going to enjoy it and Magnus fought the urge to knock the goblet out of his hand. "True, though I do think we would have fun regardless." He smiled before he drank from his own wine which also was a good way to avoid looking at his father.

octavius: “gods, those two. i’ve complained about this to you before, i know, but the insufferable stupidity of the other royals and their bloody insistence on being merciful and not--” he sighed, and took another drink from his goblet. “they ought to have let ironhaven have them. they didn’t trust me, which i can respect, of course -- i wouldn’t have trusted /them/ -- but nothing can be gained from pitying those who are likely spies. and even if they weren’t, even if they were bloody royals, what difference would it make? their being royals would cause more problems, really.”

Magnus: "Well I think after what happened to Kradaeca they may be regretting their choice now." He said and drank again, he wondered if people were more invested in what was happening to Kradaeca or Bearoria, well they wouldn't have to worry about Bearoria soon. "What good does royals that don't have kingdom have anyway, I wouldn't even call them royals."

octavius: “you make a good point. without bearoria, the winnells are certainly nothing.” he chuckled. “perhaps that makes you twice the prince, and i twice the king, that nathaniel and his brother and sisters ever were.” he was halfway to finishing his drink already, and frowned at the contents of his goblet. “i don’t suppose we have any more bottles of that? but no, decisions weigh too much nowadays.” hadn’t they always? he finished his wine in a few more relatively generous sips -- the time for savouring things would come later.

Magnus: "Well, I doubt there was any doubts about that even before we took Bearoria." the words felt bitter in his mouth, before the war against the pirates Magnus didn't had much respect for the Winnells but that had changed and even if he still thought of them as weak and over sentimental, what they had done hadn't been right. "I think that was the last bottle, do you want some of this one?" He asked taking the bottle from the wine he had been taking

octavius: "true. the same goes for the kradaecan ruler, or at least... no, i’m not certain when it comes to dear little adair. i had a conversation with him in norden that stuck with me. it seemed as if he understood things i didn’t expect a child like him to understand. things like taking lives.” octavius turned to magnus. “he may survive all of this. if he does, we both ought to keep an eye on him. you more than me; you’re of similar ages. and no, no more wine for me. like i said, decisions made now are weighty things. i can’t have too much wine influencing me.” he stood up from the table and smiled at his son. “well, this has been lovely, but i must return to work.”

Magnus: "Really.. I wouldn't have thought he knew anything about that, but yes I'll keep an eye on him." Though Magnus still thought of Adair as a teenager not fit to be a king just yet ...king, Magnus thought his time was still long time away but not know. "I'll see you later father." Magnus tried not to frown, he had expected the poison to take effect faster, but maybe it was better he didn't want to see his father die.

octavius: ( TWO HOURS LATER ) at first, he’d merely felt tired, and chocked it up to his hunting trip. by the time he felt the searing pain in his stomach, by the time he /understood/ what had happened, it was too late. he was now feverishly (literally and figuratively) going through the people he’d seen that day, and the things he’d eaten. could the wine had been poisoned? could will have poisoned the wine? or-- oh gods, /sienna/. but it might not have been the wine at all. it could have been his breakfast. for a moment he entertained the idea that this might not mean his death. perhaps it was some passing illness, or paranoia. but octavius knew the truth. and so he set out to find magnus, to talk to him while he still could. “magnus,” he said when he found him, trying to keep his voice steady. he managed well enough, but knew he looked /terrible/; surely magnus would know something was wrong. “there are a few things you must know.”

Magnus: Magnus had tried to drown his feelings with alcohol, but he couldn't drink more than two goblets, he already felt sick and he wondered if his father was already dead, he was waiting for a guard to open the door to tell him the terrible news. He didn't even want to go and let out all of his feelings against someone in training, all he wanted to do was lay on his bed and keep thinking about Nate in the dungeon and what he had done, he could feel himself sinking slowly into a hole. He was going to his room just when he heard his father talking to him, his father was still alive, and he felt happy about it and at the same time he was distraught because he thought it would be fast and painless and as he watched his father he saw that neither of those things had gone according to plan "Father...what? Are you okay? Do you want me to call a healer?"

octavius: “no, magnus. don’t call a healer.” there was no time to think of the best way of telling magnus all that he had to tell him. quite a bit of it had been strongly implied throughout magnus’ upbringing -- standard fare, warnings to trust no one, warnings never to underestimate, little fragments of strategic advice -- but there were a few, now, that were far more dramatic and far more specific. “i’ve been poisoned. i am afraid there’s nothing that can be done for me.” at his words, he felt a burst of anger. it was difficult to calm himself down; his next words were spoken through gritted teeth. “i think it may have been your brother.” he didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. magnus would have to watch will whether it was true or not. better that magnus /kill/ will. octavius realized with some despair that he still wasn’t sure magnus had it in him to kill. a deer, perhaps, or a boar, but a brother? “you must watch him. always.”

Magnus: His father knew that he had been poisoned, he knew he was dying and he was in pain, wasn't this a type of torture? He had wanted for Octavius to die fast and painlessly. Will..his father thought it had been Will and Magnus was fine with that because he didn't want his father to hate him even if he was about to die and he was an awful man that he had poisoned, it was still his father "Will?...I will do as you say father and if I find out that it was him he'll have to pay" Magnus wouldn't hurt his brother at least from this he was innocent. As he watched his father he almost felt like breaking down and start crying tell him he was sorry and also tell him that he just felt it had to be done. But no his face didn't show anything but anger that wasn't diected to Will but to himself for now picking a faster poison

octavius: “even if he hadn’t done this, magnus, he will. someday. i know him. i was like him once. and the things i did... i don’t regret them. not at all. never have i even considered what might have happened if i hadn’t done as i’d felt i had to. but magnus, you cannot let will do them to you. do not let him--” he stopped short of admitting he’d murdered his brother and usurped the throne. “trust no one. promise me you won’t.”

Magnus: Trust no one was something that he had been told through the years, and yet Magnus trusted people, he trusted Nico and Anya...though Anya had left and that had felt a bit like betrayal..And wasn't he the one that was the most loyal person to Octavius? Magnus had always supported his father, and he was the one that had poisoned him. His father had been right all along on that matter "I promise I won't trust anyone." And he was actually meaning it, because if he had betrayed his father, who was to say someone wasn't going to betray him as well?

octavius: octavius nodded, satisfied. “now you will be king. earlier than i had planned. i meant what i said, earlier; adair may be dangerous. and--” suddenly he was wracked with pain, and though he did not entirely double over, there was a moment for which he could not speak. he recovered, and shook his head. “gods. kill will for this, magnus. kill him. you /must/ watch your back. and watch adair, and sienna. sienna was mine, for a time, but she’s sharp, and i’ve never been entirely sure how she feels about you. a patriot, though. be sure she’s looked after, if she needs to be. she has been useful.” he realized, then, that if he did not act quickly magnus would find out that nathaniel still lived. could he charge will with finishing the job? with seeing to it that magnus never knew? but no, he couldn’t. “king nathaniel is not dead. you ought to put him out of his misery soon. tonight.”

Magnus: Magnus quickly approached his father when he doubled over in pain, he hadn't want this, he didn't want his father to suffer and he certainly didn't want to see him dying, Magnus knew this would haunt his dreams forever. He placed a hand on his arm trying to help him "Don't worry father, I will do as you say." He wasn't going to kill Will...and he was going to keep a close eye on Sienna, probably tell her to go back to Ironhaven so he could really know what she was up to. "I will." Tonight the king of Bearoria would sleep in his own bed tended by a healer, Magnus knew he wouldn't sleep. His father would be buried in Ironhaven that he knew.

octavius: octavius nodded even as he worried that magnus would not. that was the most terrifying thing about dying, he decided; he would no longer be a player, or even a spectator. it seemed far from a sure thing that he’d be allowed to watch, even after death -- the gods were not that kind. they were not kind at all. they dealt in chaos, and little else. “i must leave you now. i’ve other business to attend to. magnus, you must not tell anyone you know i was poisoned. i’m sure you can figure out why.” for one thing, he didn’t want will to know that he’d know. if it had been will. the gods knew octavius had a multitude of enemies to choose from. another was that his brother had died in much the same way. better it seem like an illness.

Magnus: "Father...don't worry no one will know and I will go along with everything you told me and you started." He had made this his father was dying in front of him and it was all because of him, Magnus felt sick but he couldn't break not right now, and his father should die seeing his son strong and thinking that everything he planned was going to happen."I will avenge your death and Ironhaven will conquer Zenan." A lie to a dying man was the least he could do. Magnus could feel his heart breaking. "I'll see you in the after life father." He said quietly, because he knew that his voice may threaten to break

octavius: “perhaps you will,” said octavius. or perhaps the gods reserved a special place for people like him. then again, he didn’t regret any of the things he’d done. he’d meant that. his only regret, he decided, was not acting with great enough care. “my brother was like you,” he said, as he turned to leave the room, to find sienna for either a goodbye or an accusation, he wasn’t sure. “take care you do not meet the same fate as he did.” he slipped through the door, weakness apparent (to himself, at any rate) in the way it felt to move, as if he were unraveling from the inside out.

Magnus: Magnus barely remembered his uncle, he could remember that he liked him though, and that he also liked his little cousin too. He had always wanted to be like his father and ended like his uncle? Maybe that was a good thing but as he saw his father walk away he just felt himself sinking further down, he did what it had to be done but that didn¡t mean it hadn't broken him to do so. Magnus locked himself in his room and only managed to think about his father in pain.

[theitalianscribe]

Ally Cat

Lance was always on the fence between cats and dogs. On one hand, cats could be very well-mannered and they were small enough to move anything important out of the way. On the other hand, dogs gave you an excuse to go outside for exercise, were arguably more loyal, could be trained, and could be great conversation starters outside the house. After the week he had, Lance was definitely a dog person.

“Is it true that Yggdrasil just makes you act like a cat?” Lance heard his sister ask. He peeked into her room and found her working on homework with the dreaded Dreambender.

“Who told you that? That’s supposed to be a well-kept family secret.” The dreambender faltered from his position hovering cross-legged above Destiny’s bed.

“Family?”

“Uh, don’t worry about it. But you can’t prove that what you said is true.”

“Well, I did read it from a few different sources on the internet, so they could be wrong. But it does sound like you.

The dreambender laughed. "I don’t need drugs to become a cat. Observe!”

With a wink, the demon disappeared and a cat took his place. The golden eyes and black fur with white paws was a common enough combination for cats, but the smug expression and floating minature hat gave it away.

“Knowing a demon is bad enough. If you were trapped with the mentality of a cat, I would not clean your letterbox.” Lance leaned against the door frame and glared at the cat. “Now, enough with the chit-chat. Aren’t tutors supposed to talk about the subjects?”

“Maybe her homework is on demonology.” Alcor defended. The voice didn’t come from his mouth, but was clear in Lance’s head. And judging by the laugh his sister let out, Destiny could hear it as well.

Lance just pointed to the algebra textbook open to the page on the Pythagorean theorem. “Yes, because triangles are soooo demonic.”

“You’d be surprised,” A low voice echoed in Lance’s head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance asked

“What’s what supposed to mean?” Destiny looked between the cat on her bed and her brother.

“Maybe your brother just doesn’t have an appreciation for math and how you can use what’s inside a triangle to measure what’s outside it.” Alcor made his way from Destiny’s bed to her vanity, across her windowsill, and onto her desk. He placed a paw on the page, “Now, to solve this, you just…”

Lance decided that watching his sister learn math from a cat was beyond his fill of absurdity and walked out of the room.

Later, while the siblings were cleaning up the mess from dinner, Destiny talked with the dreambender. Their parents were watching Celebrities in the Ballroom at a fairly high volume so her conversation was at least fairly safe. Plus, she had a headset connected to her phone and had her phone on silent. Lance had to admit that it was pretty clever. If he didn’t get chills and wasn’t familiar with the context of their conversation, he would be pretty convinced himself. Apparently one aspect of his sister’s connection to the Dreambender was that she could see him while others couldn’t.

“If only I could have a real cat,” she sighed, “No one is allergic and we have plenty of room, but my parents aren’t convinced that we could handle it.”

Lance watched her as he wiped the table and groaned at the way her eyes lit up moments later.

“Hey! That could totally work.” She was quiet for a moment. “And you would totally be willing to do that? I doubt cat food tastes as good as it smells.”

Oh no. Lance had a guess to what they were planning, but he hoped that for once he was wrong. When he walked in from picking up the mail the next day and found Destiny petting a familiar cat, he groaned. Of course he was right.

“I found this cat on the street. He has a collar, but it’s hard to read.” Destiny explained to her parents. Said collar had a metallic charm that looked like a winged star with a hat. The cat refused to take the collar off, so a damp rag was used to clean it off and an etching was made of the engraved name and phone number. Their mother called this number and set the phone to speaker.

“Hello, Stanley Pines Memorial Library. How can I help you?” The voice on the other line sounded teenage.

“We found your cat,” Destiny said a bit louder than necessary.

“Our…cat?” The teen sounded confused. Lance fought back the urge to face palm. There was no way this would work.

“Yes,” Their mother said, “Its collar says its name is Ally Cat. My daughter found it and we wanted to get it home.”

The teen was silent for a moment. Lance could hear some typing in the background. “Oh, yes…Ally Cat. You found him!” The teen’s voice was worse than a group of students reading aloud from a textbook. And yet their parents seemed to detect nothing wrong. “My family went on a road trip near your area and he snuck away while we were at a park. We didn’t notice he was gone until we were halfway to the next town. Thank goodness he’s safe!”

Destiny discreetly puled out her phone and started typing on it. Lance inched closer to her.

“Well we have him and would love to drop him off or you could pick him up. Our address is…”

While his mom spoke, Lance peered over Destiny’s shoulder and spied her messaging someone named Ivy Pines. Lance peered at his parents to see if they could see what she was doing, but their mom was holding the phone and their dad was stroking the cat’s fur. He couldn’t believe it; his sister was building a plan with the girl on the phone and their parents had no idea. Unbelievable!

“I got you!” Ivy sent to Destiny, then said on the phone, “Yeah. Unfortunately, my family lives in Oregon. I can get my uncle to stop by your place when he picks up some books, but that won’t be until next week. I don’t mean to impose, but would you mind…”

“We could look after this little guy for you!” Their dad piped up. Alcor rolled off his belly at the phrase “little guy.”

“Could you? That would be great! And we can totally pay you back for any supplies you guys need!”

“That would be lovely, but maybe we can just have someone else…” Their mother trailed off as she locked eyes with Destiny’s pleading face. “Hold on a moment.”

“We are not taking care of a cat! You two have school and your dad and I have work. Cats are a lot of work.”

“Please! It would just be for a week, and I promise to change his letterbox every day.” Destiny begged

“They will reimburse us for supplies,” their dad added.

“What do you think, Lance?” No way! Brief visits were one thing, but letting a demon live with them was so stupid on so many levels. Still, Alcor was clearly protective of his sister, and it would be nice to get a cat if they could convince their mom. This was very risky on a demonic front, but a safe way to test his sister’s responsibility.

Alcor walked over to Lance and brushed against his leg. Then, with a glint in his eye, he touched his nose to the exposed part of his uncle and gave Lance a small shock.

If Destiny missed a chance to get a cat because of him, there were two people that wouldn’t let him have the end of it.

“As long as it stays out of my room, I don’t care.” Lance finally said.

Their mom nodded, “Okay, we’ll take care of him. Now, is your uncle available? I’d like to talk details of this meet up.”

With that, Destiny was granted a temporary pet cat and Lance’s doom for the next week was sealed…Oh, who was he kidding? His doom was sealed the minute he had locked eyes with the Dreambender in his sister’s bedroom and squirted him with a spray bottle filled with holy water. Come to think of it, where did he put that bottle? Something told Lance that he would be needing it.

The cat in question turned toward Lance and, be it by some trick of light, the angle he was looking, or something that should not be a factor when dealing with a cat, “Ally Cat” starred back at him with glowing red eyes.

Yeah, he was definitely going to need that bottle.

[believe-that-you-can-my-friend]

Bughead writing prompt where Betty has a crush on Jughead and she gets jealous and he's entirely oblivious

Hope you like it!!! Thank you for requesting!!

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find JugheadJones?” four faces frowned at the odd question that echoed over their heads andstopped their previous cheerful chat on their usual lunch table, Kevin evenmentally counting them in his mind to be sure that all of them were present andnot anyone of their small group of friends was actually the one to be lookingaround for Jughead. Nope, Archie was to his side, Betty and Veronica across him;then who the hell was asking for Jughead?

It seemed that everyone had the same question and theyturned in unison to face the intruder, jaws slightly dropping upon recognizingher immediately. Stood over their table – theirtable – was Sabrina Spellman in all her Scandinavian glory, looking at themexpectantly with a tight smile and waiting for an answer.

Sabrina Spellman was the babe of babes in RiverdaleHigh, as all common jocks would state upon being asked, without even a tad ofeloquence. She had been transferred from Sweden, her birthplace, three yearsago and had brought a very saucy aura of Europe in their tiny school communitywith all her open-minded ideas and lifestyle. At her seventeen years of age shelooked like a model right out of a Victoria’s Secret’s catwalk with her sandyblonde waist-length hair, hazel eyes, rich cleavage and miles long legs. Girlsenvied her for her effortless looks and superb sense of style and as for guys,well, it was everyone’s wet dream. Even Kevin would jump right in if she wantedhim to, just for the experience of being with Sabrina Spellman. The girl wasdrop dead gorgeous and anyone could see that.

Looking like that and relishing in it, Sabrina alwayshad high standards; hanging out only with her fellow senior guys or the jocksor even older guys, more experienced.The fact that she of all people was looking around for Jughead Jones was frontpage material to say the least.

“Um, Sa-Sabrina, hi!” Archie choked on his sandwich,still in shock but a tad better than the other three that were staring with theirmouths opened. Their paths had crossed from time to time, because basically thegirl was living and breathing in the boys’ locker room. They had even gotintroduced once by Chuck Clayton but that was all their contact over the years.Archie was sure she didn’t remember him even though he still thought about herand her black tiny bikini once or twice in the shower.

“Hi…Archie, isn’t it?” she narrowed her pretty eyes inthought and smiled, making both boys smile back, totally under her spell.Veronica and Betty just rolled their eyes.

“You remember me?” the redhead blurted out, not quitebelieving it. “You remember me!” he announced in triumph this time with a hugestupid grin. “Thank you, I guess, wow—”

“Ahem!” Veronica cleared her throat harshly, cuttingoff his teenage hormonal outrage and sending him a glare, before offering afake smile up to the foreign girl. “You said you were looking for Jughead?” shenarrowed her eyes in disbelief.

“Who’s looking for me?” The man of the hour appeared,hands tucked inside his jeans and slouchy posture, raising his eyebrows at thesilence that greeted him before briefly glancing to the girl standing next tohim.

“I do!” Sabrina took it upon herself to answer; she knewher deal with boys. “Well, I read your article the other day on the paper aboutconsumerism and how modern world has turned us into ‘materialistic zoo animals’ and I was really impressed. Yourthoughts were so spot on.” She shot him a charming smile and both girls at thetable raised an eyebrow at how sketchy and desperate she sounded.

“Uh, thanks?” Jughead’s tone was more like a question,because first of all, Sabrina Spellman was talking to him for the first time –he wasn’t even sure if she was aware of his existence – and second, she of allpeople was interested in dealing with consumerism? Fred Andrews was barely amonth ago at her house building an extension to her already immense walk-incloset!

“I also write a few things of my own.” She went onunfazed by his obvious uneasiness, throwing her hair over her shoulder andresting her hip on the metallic table to have her solemn focus on him. “I’dlove for you to check them out and tell me what you think.”

Oh my God, yes!

DU-DE!

Kevin and Archie mouthed respectively behind her back,while Betty’s eyes grew wide in shock and was that anger?

Jughead just shook his head, ignoring his male friendsand their stupid drool over the popular girl’s looks. “I’m not sure how much ofa help I’m going to be. I tend to be a tad more sardonic than people canhandle.” He replied truthfully, not quite in the mood to have any interactionwith her. Archie face palmed, Kevin shook his head in a disappointed manor.

“That’s what I liked about you.” Sabrina flirted withhim with no shame at all and now it was evident to all of them, apart fromJughead of course. “And I can handle it. How knows? Made there’s a spot in thatnewspaper for me too and we can be writing buddies.” She shrugged and laughedlightly, sending him a look under her thick eyelashes.

Betty gasped with no sound at that, totally offendedby the lack of tact in that girl. Who did she think she was, barging insomething that it was hers and Juggie’s?

“Well, I’m not the one to decide that. The Blue &Gold is Betty’s proud achievement so she does all the new hirings, if any.” Jugheadsmirked at the girl sitting across him and she straightened her back proudlybecause he seemed to be looking at her more than Sabrina what’s-her-name.

“Yes and we are not hiring anymore.” Betty went toclarify maybe a little too harshly.

Sabrina turned to the four teens behind her briefly,sending a fake polite smile to her fellow blonde. “Too bad.” She flinched, andeven like that she still looked gorgeous; Betty shrunk back to her previousslouchy form. “But still I insist in you giving me your opinion. You seem likeyou really know what you are doing.” She turned back to him and went on withher shameless flirting, throwing sexy innuendo after sexy innuendo, but theraven haired boy didn’t get a chance to speak.

“Of course he will!” Archie interfered, shooting hisfriend a look when he shook his head no in a panicky manner. “Why don’t youswing by at the Blue & Gold after last period?” he played match-maker,looking out for his best buddy.

“I have cheer practice after last period.” Bettyreplied with an annoyed slash confused frown.

“That’s kinda the point, Bets.” Archie pointed outthrough clenched teeth and she opened her mouth to object but Kevin sent awarning shh and a meaningful look herway.

“I’m cool with that.” Sabrina smiled brightly, lettingher slender fingers caress down his arm in a seductive manner. “I’ll see youlater, Jughead.” She said with a tone full of promises and left, leaving theboys on the table fawning about her and the way her hips swayed and Jugheadlooking as perplexed as ever.

As for Betty, well, she had just gained her firstenemy.

The next day at free period was the same sceneryrepeated as yesterday, only this time three friends were watching and fromafar. Jughead had announced that he would go sit away at some bench of the highschool’s back yard to write but as soon as he opened the lid of his laptopSabrina Freedman was next to him bombarding him with million words per minuteand a series of seductive smiles.

Veronica and Kevin along with Betty were at thestudents’ lounge, the first two with their faces glued to the window, so tohave a front row seat to what was going on with the duo in question, whereasBetty was pacing back and forth behind them, wanting to look but also havingthat sickening feeling in her stomach at what she was going to witness. She wasminutes away from skipping cheer practice yesterday and go over to the Blue & Gold tocut their ridiculous rendezvous short but she was held back by a veryfrustrating Archie – and a fuming Cheryl, because no one was taking practiceseriously – so she was left there dragging her feet in the back with a grumpypout. Needless to say that she spent the night turning and fighting her covers,her nerves today being on breaking point.

“People say that they are together.” Kevin announcedin a hushed whisper, sharing the latest Riverdale High’s gossip with thebrunette next to him. “Rumor has it that she gave him a blowjob at the back ofthe parking lot yesterday evening after their meeting.” He went on in ascandalous voice and Veronica grimaced in appreciation.

Betty just flinched at the way too graphic details andstarted pacing more quickly, feeling her heart drop in disappointment for someweird reason. Jughead was her friend; shouldn’t she feel happy for him?

“Please, as if Sabrina Spellman would go for anyoneyounger than at least twenty-six.” Veronica snorted, looking straight ahead atthe pair that was now laughing at something. “Plus, since when people aretogether after a blowjob?” she wondered with a shrug.

“Can we please stop saying that?” the blonde squirmed in disgust. “It’s obviously a lie.” Shesaid it out loud in hopes to actually believe it.

“Oh, why not B?” her brunette friend addressed her,turning to look at her. “If Jughead is getting a little action, then good forhim. Lord knows, the boy needs it bad!” she chuckled.

“There’s a thigh grab.” Kevin announced in acontrolled fangirl voice, drawing the attention back to the window.

“From who?!” Betty snapped and rushed forward to pushtheir heads to the side in order for her to press her nose on the cold glassbetween them. It was from Sabrina, the girl rubbing lightly his thigh, andJughead sifted somehow uneasily but continued showing her something on hiscomputer.

“I spy with my little eye three losers pretending tobe spies.” The characteristic voice of Cheryl Blossom made the three teensjump. “Let me guess; Sabrina and that creeper, Jones?” she raised a perfectlyshaped eyebrow and curled her arms over her silk midnight blue blouse.

“How do you even know? Do you have cameras around orsomething equally chilling?” Veronica snapped back.

“Sweetie, don’t underestimate me.” She offered her afake smile. “The whole school is talking about them.” She went on uninterested,throwing some coins in the vending machine to trade for a cereal bar. “She’sboning him. Even if she hasn’t done it already, she’s definitely going to.Sabrina always gets who she wants.” And with that she was out the door, herheels leaving faint clicks behind her.

Betty never before in her life felt such strong needto start a catfight.

She was sulking. She was bitter and she wassulking.  She didn’t know quite thereason; she just had a permanent pouty face all through the day and bloodpressure at the highest levels once somebody would mention either Jughead orthat blonde witch that had spelled her way to his bed, if the rumors wereindeed true. Betty had avoided any interaction with Jughead that day, not inthe mood to say a single word to him, their only hanging out being on lunchbreak during which Betty seemed to be only interested in fawning overVeronica’s boots and other girly stuff, having Jughead desperately trying toget her attention but failing. Betty hadn’t even spare him a single glance, shedidn’t want to; not when Archie was sitting next to him blubbing excited aboutthe romantic conquers of his best friend and asking for saucy details. Ugh,Betty truly believed that her seven years’ old self was indeed right; boys weregross.

She didn’t evengo to the Blue & Gold after school, meeting with Jughead and solvingmysteries like they had been doing every day of this passed month. Let him gothere, be alone and think about his actions, Betty thought, acceptingVeronica’s and Kevin’s offer for dinner at Pop’s. She could use the distractionand the much needed change of pace.

However, the sight she came across had her bloodrising to her head in nanoseconds. At his usual booth as Pop’s, Jughead Joneswasn’t alone as usual. Sabrina was next to him, practically lying on him andforcing him in a small space between her and the wall, the boy paying her noattention whatsoever but she was again talking and flirting non-stop.

“Oh, for the love of God!” Betty groaned and attractedthe attention of her chatting friends next to her, arms opening to her sides inexasperation and dropping with a thud sound of her palms against her thighs. “Irefuse to sit down for a rerun of that sorcery!” the blonde announced sternly,shaking her head and turning around to leave.

Veronica stopped her and caught her by the elbows,pushing her to move forward in the small dinner with her. “We’re about to learnsome brand new scandalous gossip about the hottest topic in Riverdale andyou’re passing on the chance? Nah-huh!” she whispered intrigued and passed bythe “happy” couple, offering them a grin – Betty just looking the other waysnobbishly – and Jughead momentarily cheering up upon seeing them enter, hopingfor them to drag him out of his misery but went back to slouching when Veronicapushed Betty to slide on a booth close to theirs, Kevin jumping on his seat inexcitement too.

“Why can’t we just go?” Betty whispered - yelled toher friends that paid her no attention but kept their eyes fixed on the couple.

“I really wonder what they are talking about.”Veronica whispered to Kevin who nodded in agreement, the blonde raising herarms in frustration before turning her head to the opposite direction, suddenlyfeeling nauseous and not in any mood to eat even her favorite Texas baconcheese fries.

“Is it just me or don’t they bring out a very sexy vibe?” the boy colored the word inhis usual intrigued manner, the brunette girl humming a yeah.

Betty flinched, seconds away from vomiting. “Please,can’t you see how miserable he looks?” her voice went an octave higher inannoyance.

“You call that miserable, I call it ‘I just got laid’glow!” Veronica laughed.

“They are not doing that!” Betty fumed, hands bailedin fists on the table.

“They totally do!” Kevin sent her a look. “You see thedress she wears? She wore that at the party that Jason Blossom lost hisvirginity to her and after she hadher way with Tim Griffins under the bleachers when Bulldogs’ won statechampionship last year. It’s like a pattern, or something.” Kevin explained ina secret whisper, Veronica bringing a palm to cover her amused gasp and Bettydropping her sad eyes to the floor next to her, feeling her heart break withevery word that came out of his mouth. Jughead wasn’t a plain fuckboy like all the others, he couldn’t be. Right?

“And can we take a moment to appreciate how this mini dresslooks on her? I mean that girl is some style guru for sure.” Kevin went on topoint out.

“Plus, she has a pair of some serious killer legs.”Veronica sighed in admiration and a tad of jealously for the girl’s perfect genes.

Betty let her eyes hesitantly do an once-over of her,regretting it immediately because she knew how Sabrina Spellman always lookedand especially in short skirts and mini dresses. Every girl felt envious of herbody type, even Cheryl Blossom herself. Then, hesitantly, she did a review ofher appearance; classic jeans – a tad bigger than her actual size because mammaCooper didn’t approve of anything skinny – modest floral tank top, blush pinkcardigan. Yeah, she would choose Sabrina over herself in a blink too. Shedidn’t blame Jughead for doing so. Wait, what? Was she actually going down thatroad?

“She’s not the right girl for Jughead.” She spat andadded a what seemed like to be an aloof shrug. That’s what she was going with,that was the reason behind her whole behavior.

Veronica and Kevin raised an eyebrow at each other.“Oh, really? And how come you express an opinion about Jughead’s love life?”the girl challenged with a tiny smirk.

Betty closed defensively her arms over her chest,awkwardly making paws with the sleeves of her cardigan. “I’m just looking outfor him; he’s my friend.” She didn’t sound convincing even to her own ears.

“Betty Cooper, are you jealous?!” Kevin’s mouth formeda big O, eyes shining in amusement and delight.

The girl in question opened her mouth to refuse butVeronica interfered.

“Of course she is!” she replied in a duh manner.“Finally B! I’ve been waiting for you to snap since that day that Gingertripped and accidentally fell on Jughead. You were giving them the eye for twodays just because he caught her by the waist in reflex so for her not to comecrashing down on his bag and beloved laptop.” The brunette shook her head atthe memory in amusement.

“I did not!” Betty spat like the girl had offendedher. She wasn’t jealous; well, maybe a teeny-tiny jealous because she reallywanted to feel his arms around her waist even by accident but that didn’t meanshe was growing like feelings for him? No, no that’s impossible.

“Whatever you say, bestie.” Veronica raised her handsin fake surrender. “But from the looks of it, Sabrina is indeed winning some groundagainst you.” She pointed her thump over her shoulder, Betty looking confusedup to the two of them, her green eyes nearly dropping off their sockets as shewitnessed her giving him a kiss on the cheek, before standing up and making herway to the restroom

Betty saw blood from anger and she shot up from herseat, making her steps quick and determined to his direction. She wasn’t goingto stand there while watching him joining her in the bathroom in any second. Jugheadsaw her approaching and his face lightened up but his smile fell upon seeingher threatening expression. Feeling suddenly nervous, he reached over for someleftover fries on his plate, trying to find some comfort in food.

Betty slapped his hand away with venom. “What do youthink you’re doing?” she demanded in a shaky voice.

“Finishing off my fries?” he gave her an unsure look.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me.” She scoffed. “I’masking what you are doing with her!”she forced the word off her lips, raising an arm to point behind her at therestrooms.

“Nothing.” Jughead shrugged, not quite understandingwhat was wrong. “She has some writer’s block and a very difficult theme for anEnglish paper so she asked my help for some reason.” He wasn’t sure why she hadchosen him of all people and, honestly, he was so ready to be done with it; hernon-stop bubbling was making his temples ache.

“Oh, please!” Betty flinched in a very unladylikemanner. “Can’t you see what she’s trying to do?”

“What is she trying to do?” he narrowed his eyes inconfusion. “Betty, seriously, what’s wrong?” Jughead sighed. “Did I dosomething, did I say something that I shouldn’t have? Because this whole weekyou don’t even look at me and now you seem angry, so please, whatever it is canwe talk about it?” the boy across her pleaded, really wounded that his favoritegirl was mad at him for some reason.

“Don’t you really know what’s wrong?” the blondefrowned in anger; seriously he couldn’t be so oblivious about the situationregarding the three of them and that aggravated her to no extend.

“Yes!” he exclaimed in exasperation.

“Did she give you a blowjob?” Betty blurred withouteven noticing it, her face getting warm in embarrassment instantly.

“WHAT?!” Jughead nearly shouted with a look full ofhorror. “No!” He blurted somehow uneasily, dropping his eyes on his lap inembarrassment too. He couldn’t even believe that such words had come out ofBetty’s mouth, let alone bring himself to picture him and Sabrina is suchrisqué interactions. Him and Betty, onthe other hand… The thought ran momentarily through his brain and hementally slapped himself for how inappropriate and disrespectful his teenagemind sometimes was.

Betty let the breath she was holding, somehow relievedbut now embarrassment for her outrage and choice of words was kicking more andmore in. “So, there’s nothing going on between you two?” she asked in a beaten,small voice.

“Of course not!” Jughead refused with an expression ofdisgust; how could she even think that they were an item? “That’s what got youcold and defensive all week? But why?” he wondered with a genuine lostexpression and Betty resisted the urge to roll her eyes at how oblivious hetruly was.

“Because she is jealous.” Sabrina’s voice came toconfirm the obvious. “But I made a move first, so, sorry honey but back off.”She faked politeness but her stare was cold on Betty.

“Excuse me?” the other blonde spat, turning to set herwith a cold glare herself.

“Oh you heard me perfectly. That boy toy is mine!” shepractically growled, Jughead shooting up from his seat and rounding his eyes inshock, not only because Betty had practically confirmed that she might hadfeelings for him – the very same feelings he had for her for ages – but therehe was as a trophy to be won between two girls. Was that even reality?

“We’ll see about that, honey.” Betty used her mostchallenging smirk and, without breaking their stare off, she fisted the frontof Jughead’s sweater, pulling him to her and crashing her bubblegum lips onhis, the boy gasping in surprise inside her mouth but he recovered quickly, droppinghis hands on her hips to bring her flat against his lean body.

Betty pushed him back with an audible gasp for air, lookingat a menacing looking Sabrina Spellman. “If your thin air filled head didn’tquite grasp that we can do that again as many times as you want.” She declaredin triumph and raised an eyebrow to accompany her satisfied smirk, Jugheadstanding next to her with a dumbfounded smirk decorating his lips.

Sabrina just turned her angry stare at Jughead.“What do you want me to say?” Jughead shrugged in his post-kissing bliss. “I’mdown, if she is.” He and Betty exchanged a smile, before Betty turned to shoother a ‘it’s time for you to leave’ glare.

The older girl just turned around in anger and left,slamming the glass door of Pop’s with venom behind her.

“Well, I know that you were referring to her but I’mhaving some trouble grasping this whole thing too, so how about a repetition?”Jughead cheekily asked and Betty shook her head at him, before cupping hischeeks and joining their lips in a sweet slow kiss, the two teens getting lostin the sensation and only barely hearing the faint cheers of Veronica and Kevinin the background.

[the-pen-and-pad]

Full Circle

“Get back here you filthy thief!” A man bellowed. A man dressed in the accoutrements of a noble family busted through the crowd streets and exclaimed, “Someone stop that little miscreant!”

Uther continued to weave in and out of the crowd unnoticed. Panic had not quite set in yet as he thought to himself, “All I have to do is get to the sewers and I am home free.”

Uther stood all of three feet tall, and was a masterful thief and pick pocket, and not too fearful of the consequences of the actions he had just taken. The reward from this mark seemed entirely too lucrative, and his heart was beating as if it were going to jump out of his chest.

He had been following this well-dressed man for the better part of the day, keeping his eyes on the large coin purse the man was wearing on his left hip. Throughout the day he watched as the man pulled gold coin after gold coin out of this seemingly bottomless pouch and decided that this was the prize he had been waiting for all month. It had been a while since Uther had gotten a large haul and was surviving on scraps and easy targets, drunkards and gamblers.  Uther stalked his prey most of the day and took the first opportunity to strike, slicing the pouch from the man’s belt and then darting into the crowd.

“Where to go? Where to go?”  Uther pondered as he passed under another market stand like it were another small doorway to freedom. “If I remember correctly the entrance I am looking for is about thirty feet away on the left hand side.” His thoughts were now racing.

It seemed that in all the excitement he had missed his mark and panic started to finally set in.

“I am about to be out in the open, I have to think quickly.” His mind seemed to have shifted into a calm calculating state, almost trance like.

Uther noticed an alley with a tavern on his immediate left and pivoted to make a mad dash to the entrance. As he burst through the doors he noticed the sign above him read “Dwarven Respite”

It seemed as he had lost his pursuer and could finally breathe.

He began to wonder “Why was that man is such vigorous pursuit of me over a few gold coins?”

He decided to reach into the pouch, and he felt a strange tingling as he plunged his hand into it. He started realizing why that man was so relentless. This was no ordinary pouch, it was enchanted and linked to the coffers of that man’s family.

“What a day! I seemed to have hit the jackpot!” Uther thought to himself.

Uther decided to celebrate his new found wealth by partaking in the establishment’s renowned brews and exclaimed “I will have a tankard of your finest ale!”

    “That’ll be ten gold pieces, fine sir, though you hardly look as if you can afford it.” The barkeep scoffed as he looked Uther up and down.

    He noted that Uther was in ratty clothing and looked much like the beggars that come in after a long day of pan handling. With a subtle grin Uther reached into the pouch and pulled twenty gold pieces out and said, “That’s ten for the ale and ten for you to keep you opinion to yourself”

    Uther also said, “Not only can I afford it, I can afford to tell you it would be wise to watch your tongue. I may look like I am in rags, as if I am some street urchin, but I have and will always know wealth beyond your wildest imagination.”

    As the night crept in, Uther now knowing that he was free to move about unnoticed once again, made his way to the entrance of the sewer that led to the Thieves’ Den. As he entered his private quarters he counted out five thousand gold pieces and placed them in his trunk at the end of his bedroll and made his way to the Thieves’ Guild depository. He knew he had done well and did not want to be too greedy; he emptied the coffers into the depository taking careful count of all that he had gained that day. It totaled to just over five hundred thousand gold pieces.

    Just as he finished emptying the coffers a bellowing voice greeted him warmly, “Uther, my boy, you have done well once again. To think just a few years ago you were only a scared orphaned teenager left to the streets. I watched you beg and saw your true potential. You are like the son I never had. I truly am proud of you, boy”

    The voice was familiar, it was the leader of the Thieves’ Guild, the man Uther knew as his father. Uther was not unfamiliar with this type of praise, he had always done better than those around him when it came to performance within the guild. It had been a slow month and an even slower year.

    Uther curiously asked, “Well, now what?”

    The leader of the Thieves’ Guild, Artemis, said, “Well, now we can move on to bigger and better things. I hadn’t ever thought we would come across this kind of wealth in years and here you are providing the family with enough financial strength to truly come out of the shadows and make a name for ourselves.”

    Curiously, Uther asked, “What do you mean?”

Artemis let out a boisterous laugh and said, “We had been stealing from the shadows for so long it doesn’t surprise me that you forgot what the plan was my boy. We are going to open a gambling establishment and host gladiatorial type fights for people to bet on. In the front it will seem like a suitable business endeavor. However, we will be robbing people blind while they ask us to do so. The booze will be spiked, the matches will be rigged, and the house will always win.”

    Uther recalled that this was his plan, this was a pipedream; He had never thought would be real, but now it will only take a few well-placed deals.

    After all the excitement died down Uther returned to his private quarters and put out the lanterns that seemed to be glowing with the radiance of his finally realized dreams.

    “I can finally come out of the shadows,” he thought as his eyelids got heavy and he drifted peacefully to sleep.

    Uther’s sleep was disturbed by an unfamiliar voice, “Uther, dear child, you have stolen your last thing.”

    Uther thought he was awake but it was clear that this was a dream he could not wake from.

    “You have taken upon a curse by reaching into that pouch and this is now part of who you are. From here on out every bit of money and item of value has to pass through this bag and if it is gotten through illegitimate means and is unearned you will lose it.”

    Puzzled, Uther calls out. “What do you mean?”

The ethereal voice continued to explain. “This pouch was crafted by a magician who had tried to teach his children that stealing and taking advantage of people was wrong. Its enchantment causes the bearer of this curse to only be able to gain wealth by legitimate means. The man you stole it from had the same problem and until the pouch found its way to him; he lived a life of extortion and villainous behavior. He had the pouch delivered to him as a payment from a wretched man who was unable to pay his required fee. Now the pouch has found its way to you after the man you stole from has repented and changed his ways”

    Uther cried out, “Utter nonsense this is simply a nightmare and you are only a voice in my head!”

    Uther awoke to find that his trunk has been emptied and all the good he had stolen in the past were entirely gone.

    Uther thought, “This is some cruel prank, no one here really likes me except Artemis.”

    Uther stepped out accepting that this was only some cruel joke only to be greeted by the man he had stolen from. “Oh, it seems I came across you too late kiddo.”

    The man then introduced himself properly. “Well, my name is Tiberus and my family used to be feared around these parts. That was until that pouch made its way into my possession. We were stripped of our wealth and I thought it was some kind of cruel farce. The man who gave me the pouch then explained the nature of the pouch and what I had to do to regain our family’s wealth. Now, we do everything above board, as they say. It is interesting how much more wealth we came into by being charitable and kind to everyone. My best word of advice, boy, cast aside the evil in your heart and learn to live honorably”

    Tiberus leaves before Uther can speak a word and left Uther there to ponder the life he will have to lead from here on out.

    “Guess it’s time for a new life, Artimes may be disappointed but I doubt I can pass the pouch along to some other sorry soul until I have paid my penance.”  Uther thought as he wandered about town and tried to find himself some honest work.

    Just as quickly as he came upon wealth it was stripped from him and Uther wandered for days before he was approached by the king’s guards. “Hey there Uther, haven’t had any complaints about you stealing from the underbelly lately. What gives?”

    Uther went on to explain his circumstances and what fate had bestowed upon him. One of the guards recalled a unique opportunity and relayed it to Uther. “Well little guy, turns out the royal family is in need of spies to try to prevent conflict. It seems that fate has called upon you once again. Perhaps this is the honest work that your curse desires. Feel free to come by the castle tomorrow afternoon. We will put in a good word as we both know of all your abilities.”

    The next day Uther made his way to the castle and was immediately given work. Uther graciously accepted the opportunity to better his reputation and do something good for the people.

    Uther’s training started promptly the following day and without fail, he graduated at the top of his class at an accelerated pace. Uther was now officially a royal spy and could count himself amongst the few throughout history. Days went by and Uther could tell something big was coming.

    “All this over a damned coin purse.” Uther thought to himself as his watched some dignitaries from a rival kingdom deliver a secret message to a group of people who looked all too familiar.

    “What has Artemis and The Thieves’ Guild gotten themselves into since I have been gone?” Uther thought as he knew this was not going to be an easy thing to approach.

    Uther called forward the King’s Guard to intercept The Thieves’ Guild and Artemis and sulked away into the shadows.

    Uther was not ready for what he was to do next, part of his duties included the interrogation of people who had committed crimes against the kingdom, and this meant he had to interrogate his former family.

    After a long break and deep conversation with the king, Uther knew what had to be done.

    Uther made his way to the detention facility and the first person he was to question was Artemis.

    “How has this come to be? My boy.” Artemis asked with complete despair. “I thought you were one of us, I never did know what happened to you after that day.”

“Artemis, I have found a new calling. I have found something bigger than myself. Please tell me what you were doing?” Uther said with some indignation masking his sadness.

“Well because I do not want to implicate any of the others I will tell you frankly, the rivaling kingdoms have been planning to take over and I was simply securing a place for ourselves in what would be. I was providing the other kingdoms with dossiers on the noble families who make up the royal council so that they could keep this coup as free from bloodshed as possible.” Artemis explained.

Uther simply said. “Continue.”

Artemis went on to tell Uther. “The outside nations have grown tired of the way that this kingdom is ruled by a council and not by a king. They fear that if they cannot persuade the king to do things without approval from the council that soon their people will request the similar treatment. They are not happy with that idea and want to discredit the royal council. However, I have had The Thieves’’ Guild buy us all some leverage by gathering information about the outside kingdoms and I am willing to give it to you in exchange for my freedom.”

Uther scoffed and said. “Artemis, have you forgotten, I once lived among you all. I have already given The Thieves’’ Guild to the King and there is nothing you can offer to save you from your fate.”

“What do you mean?” Artemis asked with panic.

Uther went on to explain. “Artemis, I never once thought you would be a traitor to the kingdom that has treated you so well. The kingdom that never once prohibited you from living your life in the shadows without pursuit. How dare you ask forgiveness from a king who has let you live freely as the council had declared you should be able to. You have betrayed everything and for that they will have your head.”

Artemis looked at Uther sullenly and said. “Is there nothing you can do? You seem to be at the king’s side and he trust you. There must be a way.”

Uther looked away and simply asked, “What really happened to my family Artemis?”

Artemis went silent and accepted his fate, he was to be beheaded the following weekend and Uther would never know the truth as it would die with Artemis.

Uther went on to perform his duties for the kingdom preventing multiple invasions and wars through his masterful use of subterfuge and espionage.

Years had come and gone and Uther was now late in his forties when the king finally dismissed him and he was finally free of his curse. He never forgot where he came from and where it led him. He choose to move to the forests surrounding the kingdom and live the life of a hermit and kept the cursed coin pouch. He was not sure what to do with it but he knew when the time came it would find its way.