Recently I went to visit my cousin and her husband for a few days. The first night there we all stayed up late drinking wine and gabbing. On the second night my cousin had to check out early as she had an important work meeting in the morning but would be free later in the day and then for the rest of my visit. So after she called it a night her husband grabbed us each a beer and we got comfy on the couch and ready to watch an action movie that was on. After a few beers and a love scene between the main actor and the hot chick in the movie I extended my foot towards his crotch and began lightly stroking. Soon he had an impressive tent in his pants. At this time I shifted position so I could unzip him and take him into my mouth. Throughout the whole thing he never said a word, occasionally letting very soft moans escape as I worked his hard married cock with my mouth. I could feel him starting to get close so I picked up my pace. His hands on my head guiding me down told me he really wanted me to finish him off which I had all the intention of doing. Soon I heard him say he was going to cum. I moaned mmhm as I took him deeper into my mouth. I felt him tense up then he was filling my mouth with his hot thick load. I eagerly swallowed it all before I kissed his cock, sat up finished my beer then grab us each another before settling back in for the rest of the movie.
It feels amazing to finally have this all come together, but honestly this is a project that I’ve been scared to let go of. Some of you may know that I’ve struggled with quite a bit this past year or so. Originally, I had no intentions of doing the entire music video. At the time, I had tried many different paths, but this project became my way of dealing with self harm. I wish I could say it helped the whole year and a half, but mistakes were made and that’s ok. Mistakes do not define you and they definitely don’t diminish your self worth. However, I can say I’m going on month 4, and I’m beyond proud of that. Seeing the progress I have made throughout this project has been incredible and although it is far from perfect, watching this video for the first time left me completely speechless.
Everyone has their unique way to deal with their struggles. This was mine and I know you can find yours. Keep fighting. It’s worth it. I promise.
She took a deep breathing, looking into
my eyes, before speaking, “I think you should get Jughead”.
I knew it, I just knew it was going to be
positive. Growing up I always imagined one day marrying Jugheadd and having
kids, but that day was not today.
Both Betty and Veronica were looking at
me as I sat there in shock. I could not formulate words, or even cry. I was
just trying to accept it. But once Veronica, came and sat down on the other
side of me, leaning into hug met, just as Betty was, the tears began to fall.
How could I ever tell him, or even my dad and brother for that matter?
Suddenly we were interrupted, as the
locker room door swung open. It was my brother standing there with a worried
look on his face.
“Where have you been?” He asked. “ I have
been looking for you ever since lunch. None of you have been in your classes.
What is going on?”
I could not even look him in the eyes.
What would he think of me?
No one spoke, so he talked again, “Seriously,
if something is wrong you can tell me, you know that right?”
Leaning down to my ear, Betty spoke
softly, “(Y/N) I think you should tell him. He will find out sooner or later”.
“Find out what?” Archie questioned. “Would
someone please tell me what is going on!”
Veronica looked down before looking back
up at Archie. She seemed to know the I had no intentions of doing anything and
she figured he would find out anyway. So
she stood up, walking over to the counter and grabbed one of the tests. Walking
over to Archie, she set it in his hand.
He stood there, silently, just staring
down at it. I could see his mouth moving. Like he was trying to figure out what
to say, but every time he almost said something, it just was not right.
Finally I had enough, I stood up and
walked over to him, “It’s mine Arch. I’m pregnant”.
I could see a range of emotions going
through his face; anger, sadness, concern. It was killing me, waiting for him
to say something, anything. Tears began rolling down my face once again. Once
my brother looked up and saw this he pulled me into a hug. Patting my head and
I cried into his chest he whispered that it would all be ok. After a few
minutes we finally broke away. I knew he was going to ask the question soon
“So, would you mind telling me what idiot
is the dad? ” Archie asked.
I stood there quietly, not commenting. How could I tell him that it was
his best friend. This could ruin their friendship.
“Come on (Y/N). He will find out sooner
or later,” Betty said, getting up off the bench.
“(Y/N), who is it?” Archie asked,
starting to look a little mad and suspicious that I was hiding it from him.
“I-it’s Jughead,” I quietly told him.
“Did you just say it was Jughead?” Archie
yelled. “My best friend? How could you guys do this! I told him you were off
limits, he knew this!”
“You told him what?” I yelled back. “I am
a big girl. You had no business telling him that he couldn’t be with me.”
“I am you brother! Your twin. I know
whats best for you when it comes to guys,” he responded. “So are you two
secretly going out? Does he even know?”
I looked up, not wanting to tell him that
Jughead did not even want to be with me.
“No, we’re not together. As soon as we
hooked up, he told me it was a mistake,” I mumbled to my brother.
“He what?!” Archie exploded. “I am going
to make him regret ever saying that.”
With that he turned around and stormed
out of the locker room.
the angstiest thing i’ve ever written and i can’t think of a title for it
Request: ANGSTY IDEA what if Y/N tries to surprise Shawn and gets Andrew and Brian and Geoff to distract Shawn while she sets up an anniversary dinner in his hotel room, except when he gets back he brought a girl with him (she’s actually like a ring designer or something cuz Shawn wants to propose so hes gonna talk about what he wants while she sketches & helps him) and Y/N gets all pissed and Shawn tries to explain but cant explain without giving up the secret so he says nothing
a/n: holy fucking shit i actually love this so much. also i don’t know how to end things properly so it is what it is (also this is 1684 words can you believe) (angstiest is a word shut up)
You waited until Shawn went out for his morning jog with Geoff to confront Brian and Andrew about your plans. “Do you think you could keep Shawn out of the hotel room until dinner?” You asked, following the two men as they walked down to the pool.
“Sure, why?” Andrew asked, glancing at you over his glasses.
“Tomorrow is our anniversary, but he has a concert. So I want to make tonight special. I want to have a nice dinner set up when he gets back.” You gave a pointed look to Brian when you saw him wiggle his eyebrows.
Andrew cooed at your plans. “For sure, we can keep him out. Just let us know when he’s allowed into the room.”
Summary: Twice you met him hopefully
the third time’s the charm and you actually get a name.
Artist!Steve Rogers x Bookshop owner! Plus size! Reader, Bucky Barnes x Wanda
Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff x Clint Barton
Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky
Barnes, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff
Setting: Soulmate AU, no
Avengers, no powers just humans
Rating: PG-13 for now
Warnings: a little angst,
sadness, but fluff to, self-doubt, body conscience,
Word count: 4,596
Notes: Written for @bladebarnes #bladehits2kchallenge
my prompt is you get your soul mates name on your left arm when you turn
sixteen. I also want to apologize for not getting this out sooner I had every
intention of doing so and then a hurricane hit and tossed all good intentions
out the window. I do hope you all enjoy this little fic and any feedback would
be greatly appreciated.
brushing over his name for what felt like the hundredth time today, a habit you
took up since those letters appeared on your skin. One that hasn’t left you in
the twenty some years though as time ticks on and his presents in your life
remains absent; you begin to lose hope and your fingers brush the name less
“So I was
thinking we could double date tomorrow night,” Natasha’s voice broke you from
the stupor you’d sunk into with the midafternoon lull.
her closely, “You do know that would mean I had a boyfriend to right Nat?”
babe and…” soft smirk stretching her ruby lips as her equally fiery locks
bounced in excitement. “I’ve got you one Y/N you’ll love him truly.”
pushing away from the counter and grabbing up a small stack of un-shelved books
making your way towards the back. “I’m not letting you set me up on some
cockamamie blind date with a guy Clint works with thank you very much,” walking
backwards giving the red head a glare.
she started to call out right before you collided with a solid wall of muscle. Books
flying from your arms and you to would’ve landed on your face had it not been
for a pair of strong arms wrapping around your thick waist.
hammering, eyes widened taking in the expression on Nat’s beautiful face then
remembering the stranger you bumped into that rescued you. Turning, a prayer on
your lips that you hadn’t made a fool of yourself in front of some handsome
stranger, worse than that your soulmate.
Your spirits and gods demand your payment as soon as they have delivered on their side of any deal made.
They do not care if you have other things going on in your life, if you are late in offering their payment they will send not-so-gentle reminders that you owe them.
To give an example, I petitioned Bride for help in finding a new place to live. It was an urgent request as my boyfriend moved in with me and my tiny flat wasn’t big enough for us and our stuff. I promised Bride that she would get a special space set up for her in the kitchen of our new home.
We get a house straight away and move in a couple of days after signing the lease. Everyone knows moving home is stressful and keeps you busy. Unboxing years of stuff and books (oh so many books) takes time. So I did not set up her shrine space straight away. I said to myself I’d do that once I’ve settled in properly.
Bride saw things differently. Our gas boiler broke down about a week after moving in. It was November and it was freezing. The whole boiler system needed replaced and we went two weeks without central heating using shitty convector electric heaters which ran up our electricity bill.
I realised it looked like I hadn’t paid my due to Bride even though I had every intention of doing it. Action speaks louder however so I set up her shrine space once it clicked in my head. If I’d done this in the first place I’d have saved money on my electricity and wouldn’t have spent two weeks freezing my arse off during a Scottish winter.
Pay your dues asap folks. Spirits and gods don’t like to wait.
Author Note: Thank you so much again @rainbowspouses for all the help with this part!!! Love you babes!!!💜💜💜 MWAH~💜🐢
Length: really long
Warnings: SMUT!!!!, mentions of murder
Today was the day. You would finally get the answers you wanted from Jerome. You were sitting at your desk getting out his file.
A loud noise rings throughout the quiet room as the door is unlocked and opened, Jerome emerges in his arkham uniform and shackled at his hands and feet…his prominent smile upon seeing you was hard to miss.
“It sure has been a while, hasn’t it doll?”
You looks up at him, a frown stained on your lips.
“Take a seat Mr. Valeska.”
You tried to stay professional but it was hard. You flipped through the file the threw it on your desk and ran a hand through your hair.
Jerome’s smile falters at first before plastering back on his face double the size it was before. He realized what you were doing. Jerome can tell that you had missed him just as much as he has missed you, but you areholding back…two can play at that game. He took a seat with his elbows resting on your desk leaning impossibly close.
“You know, sweetheart! I’ve never liked it when you frown, gorgeous, but my my, I must admit, you’ve always looked so beautiful when you do,” he utters slowly in a deep guttural tone as he stares you down.
You gulped. You had to stay professional or else they may take him away from you. You sat straight up in her chair.
“I asked you a question Mr. Valeska and I would appreciate you answering it. In case you forgot the question I am obliged to repeat it. Why did you kill your mother?”
You didn’t like it. The way you had to talk to him. You felt as if the two of you were complete strangers. Hell you would do anything just to be able to hug him and kiss him and tell him how much you had missed him. But you couldn’t. In your eyes there was a deep conflicting pain but you still kept your composure.
He gives you a hard stare and leans back in his seat. He rubs his chin with his hand, appearing to be deep in thought. He wasn’t thinking about what he was going to tell you, although he was almost certain that is what you’re expecting. He’s thinking about how much this hurts, he knows deep down why you are behaving this way…if anybody here finds out that the new hire had a thing with him, they’ll never be able to see each other again.
Even though, he definitely knows that this is what’s going on deep down, all common sense is going out the window. He is starting to bubble with anger and he is trying hard not to let it take over, but he’s loosing his patience!
He leans forward again and slams his hands down on the desk hard, his eyes intently staring you down. His face becomes stone, as his eyes turn dark and his tone becomes malicious; venom-laced even
“You know damn well why I killed that whore of a mother, you know exactly the stuff she has done! The bitch had it coming and for you to sit here and trying to pretend like you have no clue isn’t really setting well with me, doll…cut the act!”
He felt guilt wash over him immediately, you had never witnessed him behave like this before.
You jumped in your seat when he slammed his fists down. Your eyes widened with fear. You were shaking. You scribbled down what he said and then shakily went to another question.
“H-How d-did you you feel when yo-u k-killed her?”
You looked down pretending to be ready to write but really you were trying to avoid his gaze. You were scared and there was no hiding it. Hell you could barely get your question out.
You tried to control your shaking and regain your composure and you managed to do both, but your grip had over obviously gripped tighter on the clip board.
He was back to growing impatient at this point. You weren’t really paying him the attention that he wants. He figures he might as well play along and indulge you by answering your questions.
He relaxes his shoulders, shrugging nonchalantly at the question. He hums to himself, looking up towards the ceiling thoughtfully as his mind works through how exactly he wants to express his feelings to you. Suddenly, he looks at you and giggles.
“You really want to know how it felt to kill my mother? One word comes to mind to describe the whole experience, doc: energetic! I know what you just be thinking, hmmm, ‘what is energetic about something like this?’ Fear not, I’ll happily inform you doll. You just had to be there: the cooling atmosphere blanketed in death, her cries for help that mirrored my own as she used to beat me, the heady scent of her warm blood spilling with each time my blade met her flesh. It felt liberating to watch her take her final breaths right before my eyes. I guess what I’m getting at is that, although I am locked away for what I presume is a lifetime, I am actually finally free…free from that bitch that I sadly had to refer to as my mother…trust me, doll face, can I call you doll face…ah, what the hell I will anyhow *laughs before turning serious once more* I have no remorse for what I’ve done…I regret none of it, the only thing that saddens me is that I can’t experience the thrill of killing her all over again…given the opportunity, I would take it every damn time”
He finishes and stares at you expectantly awaiting your response.
You gulped. The way he described it was horrifying to say the least but you still scribbled it down.
You looked up and watched as the guard left for lunch duty. Which means you could ask more personal questions and not have to worry. You moved your chair so that it was right in front of his.
“Jerome you could have stayed with me… We would still be able to cuddle and night and kiss each other in the morning. Why couldn’t you just walk away?”
Your whole body posture changed. You seemed more relaxed and back to your normal self.
He instantly relaxed, taking notice of your change in demeanor. If Jerome is being honest, this is the first time he has been comfortable around Y/N since your little reunion. He really had to think about this question…he honestly had no idea what to tell you because he didn’t have an answer for himself. ‘Why couldn’t I just walk away? I wouldn’t be where I am now’ he thought to himself. The worst part isn’t where he ended up, because as Jerome always says, 'every choice has a consequence’, no, what bothers him the most is the loss of the one person that truly cares for him…all the time he spent here, could have easily been spent with his doll face if only he had just walked away.
He looks at you with sorrowful eyes.
“I don’t know why I couldn’t walk away…I had every intention of doing so, doll…please believe me! I went to talk to her, to tell her that I had planned to stay in Gotham, that I no longer wanted to travel with the circus…everything I could ever want was here…with you! But, you know how my nagging mother is, she JUST…KEPT…PUSHING! I went there with every intention of walking away and things escalated fairly quickly doll, if I do say so myself. One minute we’re screaming at each other, the next thing minute I push her to the ground…I barely touched the drunken Whore yet there she was crying in pain on the floor of the trailer! I’m not going to lie, it was mesmerizing seeing her like that…she looked like a helpless animal. It was in that moment that I finally realized, he life was in my hands…I was the one in control. One thing led to another and well, you know what happened next”
He makes quick stabbing motions with his hands and choking noises as he falls into a fit of hysterical giggles.
There was a look of sorrow in your eyes. This wasn’t the Jerome you knew… but you could tell he was still in there. You refused to give up on him. You slowly reached forward and grabbed one of his cuffed hands. You looked him directly in the eyes.
“And if you could go back….”
You had empathy in your eyes. You were the Y/N he knew. You weren’t the clueless Psychiatrist you were forced to pretend to be. You weren’t the scared girl from earlier. You weren’t the stranger from the beginning. No. You could be yourself. You were yourself.
You looked up at the clock to check the time and knew they didn’t have very much longer together. And you weren’t going to let it go to waste. You smashed your lips against his and kissed him more passionately than you ever had before. When you parted from his lips you leaned your forehead against his.
“What would you choose?”
His heart is pounding in his chest. He forgot just how soft your lips were against his. As your forehead rests against his, nothing else matters. The anguish your conversation has dissipated…in this moment, everything that he is familiar with when it comes you is coming back to him head on with sheer force. His senses are on fire as he steadily inhales that sweet smell he has missed for so long, a smell that is so uniquely YOU! He has become so distracted by you enveloping him in every sense of the word, that it slipped his mind that you asked him a question. He knows the answer to this question, no matter how you word it…no matter when the question is asked, the answer will always be the same.
“You…doll face, I would choose you! It would always be you”
The look of sadness overtakes his features as he pulls away from his lover.
“But, it’s too late for that…We can’t change what I have done…we can’t make it better.”
He leans into your touch, staring deeply into your soul, and with a faint whisper.
“No matter how bad we wish we could.”
You heaved a sad sigh.
“So I’m guessing that means no white picket fence and a big house and kids and no Barbecue on the weekends, huh?”
You giggled a little before frowning. You took both his hands in yours and twiddled with his fingers. You were starting to get lost in thought. Thought about how things would be and could be right now. But at this point it felt like a far away dream. Just out of reach.
“But hey at least I can see you whenever you 'need’ to see a phycologist . I had to fight to get the position as your personal phycologist. You seem to be a popular case around here.”
Jerome had become lost in thought himself at the mere mention of you wanting to have a family with him! The idea leaves a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach…there is a small part of him that wants the good old 'American dream’ as they say, but there’s no point in dwelling on that now.
It’s not until you mentioned how popular he is around here, that he draws away from his thoughts and back into the conversation! A grin wide enough to make the Cheshire Cat appear solemn spreads across his face.
“Oh doll, you have no idea! I’m not just popular with the shrinks *laughs* I pretty much run the place. Arkham has become my own little paradise! I’m a star and everyone knows it!”
His grin softens into a look of pure love and fascination.
“You being here is the only thing that could have really livened up this lackluster place, and I’ll be damned if dreams don’t come true.”
You go to say something when you hear a knock on the door.
You rolls your eyes and stand up and walk to it. You put on a fake smile and open the door.
“Yes can I help you.”
A guard looked down at you.
“Valeska needs to return to his cell.”
“Well we are just finishing up here so I’ll bring him to his cell when we are finished.”
The guard hesitated before nodding and moving along. You shut the door and sighed before turning back to Jerome.
“So, what now, doll?”
Jerome grinned mischievously
“How much time do we have before you have to send this big bad guy away?”
“Well I get off work at 11, it is 9:55 now. All therapists, consolers, and psychiatrists have to stop doing appointments at 10:15 for safety reasons so I’d say a good 20 minutes.”
You walked back and sat on your desk and sighed.
“25 counting how long it will take to get you back to your cell.”
You crossed your legs and folded your hands in your lap. While waiting for a response.
A beaming smile takes over his features.
“There’s a lot I could do in twenty minutes, doll.”
He leans in towards you and inhales deeply.
“What do you say, Y/N…wanna have some fun before I have to leave you?”
It feels as though the world has stopped as he patiently-maybe not as patiently as he thinks-awaits your response with bated breath.
“Thank god for sound proof office rooms.”
He walked to you quickly and started to make out with you roughly. You parted your lips a tiny bit and Jerome took this as an opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. His tongue explored every inch before he parted panting heavily.
He dove towards your neck and immensely peppered it with kisses. As much as you loved foreplay you didn’t have time for it now.
“Jerome no hickies. They will see. Plus we don’t have time for foreplay. If someone walks in we are both screwed…. And not in the fun way.”
He let out and over dramatic sigh but quickly helped you get your skirt off. Your panties were soon to follow.
You quickly took his pants and boxers off. Both of you were in a rush at this point. Both were scared of getting caught.
He pushed you back farther onto your desk and spread your legs apart. He took his finger and circled it around your entrance a few times before shoving it into you. After a few pumps he added another finger.
He covered your mouth as a precaution to muffle your moans.
Your stomach was in a knot and right as you felt your high coming on he removed his fingers.
You whimpered from disappointment. He looked you in the eyes and peppered kisses all over your face. He lined himself up at your entrance and asked.
“Are you ready doll?”
You nodded and with one quick thrust he filled you up. Tears clung at the edges of your eyes but you ignored it. He gave you some time to adjust before he started thrusting.
You threw your head back and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your muffled moans only made him more turned on. He slammed into you harder and harder. Your stomach was in knots again and before you could say anything you came. A few more thrusts and he came too with a groan.
He kissed you on the lips gently and ran his fingers through your hair.
“I love you doll.”
“I love you too.”
You put your panties and skirt back on and fixed your hair.
“We should probably get you to your cell before people start to get curious.”
He smirks as he kisses you again, trying to level his breathing. He pulled up his boxers and his pants and looked at you.
“Whatever you say, doll face! Feel free to take me away!”
He laughs maniacally as he holds his arms out for you to take.
As you are closing his door, he turns and grabs your wrist to stop you. He looks into your eyes with his own pleading orbs.
“Hey, this isn’t the last time I’ll see you is it, because I really have missed you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, wondering if you hate me or not. I know that you had no idea where I went and what happened, you must have thought I abandoned you. *quick laugh* But, if I lose you again, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it. I love you!”
He brings your hand up to his lips and softly places a kiss before smiling at you.
You kissed him on the lips and holds his hands. You look up into his eyes.
“My dad wouldn’t tell me where you were and I thought you had gone with your mom and left me. I cried for so long and I was heart broken. Jerome I’m in love with you and I swear I will never leave you. Hell Im your personal psychiatrist.”
You laughed and kissed him again and hugged him tightly.
“I will always be here when you need me. Just start throwing a tantrum and I’ll be right there!”
He can’t help the thought of marrying you crossing his mind briefly.
“A tantrum huh, oh doll, you know me…I’ve got that covered! I’ll be throwing so many tantrums, you won’t know what to do with yourself!”
You laughed and kissed his forehead.
“One day I’ll get you out of here. We can leave Gotham and get married and have a family and play competitive Uno on family game night.”
You laughed and smiled.
A voice sounded over the speaker.
“Y/N Gordon, you are need immediately back at your office for a patient Emergency. Please come immediately.”
You sighed ,“ it must be Blake.”
You gave Jerome a kiss on the cheek before turning to leave.
“I’ll see you around, doll face!”
He hated to see you go, but he knew he would see you again soon.
I blinked awake, squinting up at the light overhead.
For a moment I couldn’t remember what had happened but when my eyes finally
adjusted and the haze in my mind dissipated, I remembered. I remembered William
coming at me before my vision went black. I was sure he would have killed me
but here I was. I was alive and…God, I was in Anne’s house in a spare bedroom.
I was sure of it.
Taking in a breath, I moved my limbs and was
surprised as well as relieved to feel they weren’t tied down. That didn’t mean
the door wouldn’t be locked. I didn’t go to it immediately though, I stayed
where I was just to make sure Anne wouldn’t be coming by soon. I couldn’t be
I must have waited an hour before getting up and
trying the door. It wasn’t locked. I had a strange feeling in the pit of my
stomach. I’d seen William and I know what he did. Why would she want me alive
and able to roam free? Maybe this was a tease. Maybe she was giving me the
illusion of freedom and I’d get downstairs to see she’d boarded up the windows
and locked the front door and she’d have the key to it on her at all times.
Christ, this was a nightmare. I shouldn’t have kept digging.
Gryffindor: *covered in coal dust and hair seemingly changing colours *
Because I thought it would be fun? Okay, fine, I was dared - but I’m pretty sure I’ve scorched half my eyebrow off and broken my finger so surely that should be punishment enough?? But nooooo now my broom has been confiscated for 2 weeks which is totally unfair but anyway are you up for it again tonight?
Hufflepuff: *covered in sticky glue and smelling of a burning bakery*
It wasn’t an experiment!! It was an act of friendship which slowly got out of hand! Look, all I was trying to do was cheer my friend up, they were having a bad day and I was attempting to make something for them, but then I fell asleep because I stayed up all night and not only did I miss class but I kinda set part of the kitchen on fire… but at least it made my friend laugh again??
Ravenclaw: *bags under their eyes and ink all over their fingertips*
Well, I was doing homework but then my thoughts drifted to something interesting I read yesterday and I decided to try it - yes, I know that book was from the restricted section but this was all for educational purposes - so it backfired and I accidentally ended up temporarily locking our house out of the common room, but at least now I have an excuse for not having my homework??
Slytherin: *buzzed on too much coffee and faintly smelling of chemicals*
Let me be blunt - no one died, and I had good intentions so I really do not see the issue here. I was trying to help my friend gain some guts to confess their feelings and may or may not have slipped some Felix Felicis into their morning pumpkin juice? But thanks to me now they’re together and honestly it’s totally worth the 4 weeks of detention from stealing from the potions store and blowing up the bathroom
The next (somewhat shorter) chapter of ‘My Mistake,’ a distinctly not fluffy Darkiplier story. I would recommend reading that part first.
“I accept your…invitation.” The man in the suit stepped through my
doorway with an intolerable smirk, like a cat with a mouse between its
paws. Rain poured down outside, drenching the overgrown garden, but he
was still completely dry.
He strolled down the hallway with a soft, satisfied hum. I closed the
door, shutting out the wind and the rain. I shouldn’t have. I should
have tried to leave, but curiosity is a powerful motivator. I followed
him to the dining table. He sat atop it, as though he owned the place.
“Where is my soul?” I repeated, arms crossed over my chest in anger, but
also to mask my growing sense of unease. He waved my question away with
a little grin.
I know that @lumiereswig did something like this a day ago, but I swear, I
don’t mean to plagiarize. I just had this picture and I had this
draft waiting. I already had it planned out, so here it is. Sorry
if it looked like I copied; I had no intention of doing so.
Okay, so if this really is the case, then that would mean that Adam’s
dad probably left on some business trip with some other royals. This
would kind of explain the whole party that Adam throws; he should be
a young adult in the prologue, and young adults are stereotyped to
throw huge parties when their parents go on trips for work/other
And that’s not all; I honestly think that if the king was still alive
and cursed to forget the castle…well, I think it would be a healing
experience for him. So, without further ado, here are the headcanons
I have surrounding this idea/AU.
The king was just as affected by the queen’s cheerfulness as everyone
else; she was a shining light in his otherwise dark life. When she
died from a sickness, the king irrationally blamed Adam. My
reasoning behind this is this
video. Instead of it just being a deleted scene, I like to think
that it actually happened. Adam was sick with the same illness, and
the queen would spend time in his room with him, singing to him and
saying soothing things. Adam healed, but a few months later, the
same illness struck the queen.
And this is the reason why the king twisted Adam’s kind nature
around after the queen died, because while being the cause of her
death, he also reminded the king of her. And that only hurt even
While the king was away, he, like everyone else, forgot about the
castle, but he remembered his wife. (I like to think that the king
was important enough to have another castle somewhere that he
believed was his home; to be king and to be homeless would be really
confusing to people.)
And over time, he realized he was a rather bitter man, and he never
knew why. He thought that it was because his wife died of an illness
and that they could never track down the source of the illness.
But soon, it started to dawn on him that because he was so bitter
over his wife’s death, his memories of her were starting to dim and
cloud over; he wasn’t remembering her the way she should be
remembered. So he decides to start treating his people the way she
would have, so she could still live on in his heart and his people’s
hearts. And slowly, but surely, it starts to rub off on him. He
becomes more forgiving of his servants, casts a softer eye on his
peers, and allows himself a smile every so often (that was the
hardest part; remembering how to smile).
And one morning, he’s sitting in his room, reminiscing about the way
the queen used to smile at sunrises like these, when he remembers
another smiling face, a child, with the golden light playing across
his face. And suddenly the curse is lifted, and the last few years
of his life crash down on him as he remembers the real reason why he
was such a bitter man—it was Adam, he blamed his own son for
something that obviously wasn’t his fault; he could see that now.
And he hates himself. He feels remorse, regret, horror at what he
did to his own son, how he twisted Adam over and over again, erased
his own mother’s wonderful influences from him. He hates himself for
forgetting—because the poor boy’s been alone all this time—but he
hates himself even more for his treatment of Adam.
Suddenly, he has to see him. The king calls for a carriage to the
castle; he wants to see his son, apologize, tell him he loves him—oh
Lord, it’s been more than a decade since he’s done that…
And by midday he reaches the castle and sees the villagers all
crowded around it. It would have angered him originally, but instead
he runs through them, asking frantically for Adam, the prince, my
son, where is he
And he sees him from afar, coming out of the castle. He tries to get
through to him, but the villagers have crowded around him. He
contemplates pushing through them, but waits, because he sees Lumiere
embracing him. Embracing him! From what the king remembered, Adam
never allowed the servants to touch him unless it was absolutely
necessary. And then Mrs. Potts’ son, Christopher, is hugging a girl
next to Adam who shares the same smile, and the way that
the gaze into each other’s eyes…there’s no mistaking it, they’re in
love. She’s dressed rather simply—in white, but simply—she must
be a villager. But that hardly matters to him anymore.
And then Adam’s eyes sweep across the crowd, shining with tears, and
oh, she’s there, the queen’s there, his eyes are hers, filled with
all of her wonder and joy. His heart immediately lifts; he has
still managed to hold on to his mother. But there is still how he
has treated him, and that is still unforgivable. So after a few
hours, the king approaches him, and the interaction goes a little
something like this:
It isn’t the word that’s spoken; he hadn’t been called by his name in
years, not even by the staff, and the mention of his name should
bring him joy, relief that he’s not cursed anymore. No, it’s the
voice that spoke, the voice that made every word, and every name, a
He didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to face him.
He was the one part of his past that he would be happy to
forget, happy to shove underneath the memories of his empty life of
luxury. The bruises, the tears, the darkened rooms full of anger and
hatred, all are forced to the forefront of his mind.
He can even feel the staff’s reactions around him; they way they all
stop talking reminds him too much of how they walked through the
halls when he was little, how they had gone from friendly to faceless
upon this man’s orders.
This man. Adam refuses to call him his kin.
But then something else happens, something that—even after all of
his time with these people—he does not expect. They draw close to
him. Lumiere lays his hand on his shoulder, offering support.
Chapeau hovers nearby, his hands clenched, his expression protective.
Cogsworth is still weighed down by Clothilde, but he shoots the king
a look of warning. The king does not meet their eyes. Mrs. Potts
breaks off from her husband and starts toward Adam, laying her hand
in the one that is not grasping Belle’s. And Chip soon follows,
though he is half-hiding behind his mother’s skirts.
Then there is a squeeze on his other hand, and Belle’s eyes meet his,
She is fearless. She does not know what he’s been through—what a
kind, loving father she has—but he can see her strength there. She
risked life and limb to see him, to heal him. What is he if he
cannot face his own fears?
He tries to keep his face neutral as he turns around to see a man
shouldering his way through the throngs of moving villagers. His
jacket is much simpler than the extravagant ones Adam remembers, and
he doesn’t wear a wig. His hair has gone gray, and his eyes have
lost their dull, flat look. He stops a few feet from Adam, and Adam
cannot place his expression.
His voice, again, makes every nerve in Adam’s body want to flinch
away, but he held tight to Belle’s hand and closed his eyes as the
man came closer. His hand came up slowly, and though it was not
sudden, the memory of that gloved hand against his cheek…no. If
Belle could face the worst in Adam, then Adam could face it too.
“My boy…my son…”
And suddenly his hand is on Adam’s cheek, but how is it his?
His touch is so gentle, so
kind, and his eyes, as soft and forgiving as newly laid earth, are
filled with tears.
“Look at you. You’ve
grown so much…I can’t believe I didn’t realize…” His hand is
shaking on Adam’s cheek, so he moves it to Adam’s shoulder. He can’t
meet Adam’s eyes anymore; he bows his head, trembling. Scared.
“Your mother, she…she
would have been so proud of you,” he continues. “As am I. And…I
don’t know how I can begin to ask forgiveness…for the horrible,
horrible things I’ve
done to you…”
Adam has one memory of the king’s
smile. It was years ago, when his mother was still alive. She and
Adam had been in the garden, picking flowers for a bouquet for the
king’s birthday. Adam had put together a bundle of different colored
roses, carnations, and baby’s breath and ran back to the castle to
give them to the king. And he had laughed, and smiled, and patted
him on the head. He had cared for it until the flowers began to
wilt, and even after that.
This is the man that Adam sees now.
He used to think this man was dead. But
here he is, with more wrinkles on his hands and a lined face that has
suffered a lot more than it used to let on. Here he is.
The man wrapped his arms around his
son, his tears now prominent in his hitching breath, his clutching
fingers. “Adam…I love you, I h-haven’t said that e-enough, but I
do, and I will…”
Adam lets go of Belle’s hand and
returns the embrace, albeit with a little hesitancy. It will take
time, to adjust to this, but even so, his heart is above the clouds,
in both shock and joy. A little of his old life has been given back
to him because of this.
Those, right there, are words I got tired of hearing from my younger brother, Caleb. He’s around eight years old and you know how kids that age are, their imaginations run wild. My parents and I originally tried to soothe him and calm his fears but after months of the same repeated line, we were all tired of it.
College orientation. I been dreading this day since mid-May. Here I am now, guess this is one of the times I’d have to roll with the punches. My grandfather always told me to roll with the punches. Couldn’t help but feel like if he was still here I’d be at the University of Florida. That’s where I was slated to attend, but then the graduation fiasco happened. I was a 5-star recruit at linebacker out of Florida. Three years barring an injury and I would be league bound. I had been on so many official and unofficial visits. The bribes were immaculate, every school seem to outdo the next. I was real life royalty. Now everything was a question mark. I was the big man on campus since my sophomore year. I led the state in tackles for two years, and was second in interceptions my senior year. I was something like the Prince of Zamunda. Graduation was just like any other day from the start. I got up, flipped on ESPN and switched between that and ESPNU.
I had to be at the school at 2 that day and for the 4’oclock ceremony. I was ready for the shit to be over before it even started. Haircut, check. Outfit, check. Smell good, check. Shit was smoother than Jamesha’s ass. Even the ceremony went swell. Probably a little too well. It proved to be just that. As everyone spilled out into the courtyard, I was getting mad love from all directions. Hell, all of us were. Ms. Jones approached me with her fine ass. “So, we still on for dinner?” her teacher voice was so sexy, but her tone off school grounds was on a whole different level.
“Yeah, we’re solid.” I rebutted. I had been fucking Ms. Jones since the second semester of my junior year. That was when I had her for chemistry. It was crazy because our chemistry was tumultuous. She got off on me calling her Ms. Jones. We only showed affection away from school, obviously. Her helping me with SAT prep turned into a whole fling in a span of two nights. I guess since I was officially out of school, she felt it cool to approach, however harmless the initial intent. Ms. Tarver approached from my rear as Ms. Jones and I were still conversing. “Darryl, you look mighty sharp.” Ms. Tarver blatantly interrupted as Ms. Jones was divulging her evening plans of dinner on the beach. There had been tension since the beginning of senior year. Ms. Tarver was my English teacher. She was a redbone, slim thick with an ass that poked to tease the eyes of most. Ms. Jones was a chocolate Stallion. Cakes, chest, smooth skin and had the wettest of pussies to compliment all her luxuries. Ms. Tarver wanted me. She had pressed up on me several times in school but I always managed to be saved. She did suck my dick one time though. It was an ACT prep Saturday class after the season ended. I was walking out to the student lot after everything had wrapped and she happened to be coming out of her class, just as I was passing by. She asked if I was hungry and offered to take me to a spot up the road. She lured me in and me in my youth a nigga didn’t even see it. She suggested we head to her house as the place was crowded, “no pressure” I thought, and just vibed. In my mind I knew what was about to go down, and I wanted her too. Ms. Tarver talked as she moved about the house, while I sat in the den smashing my food. After a few minutes, she came back in a negligee. My fork dropped onto my plate. Instantly my dick began to elongate. She noticed my print and didn’t hesitate. The older women went for what they wanted and to me that was so sexy. She slurped me down extracting my seed, not even pausing. I wanted more but I had a meeting to attend. It was an unofficial in Coral Gables at UM. I never managed to catch back up with Ms. Tarver, but I had every intention of doing so, if given the opportunity. In a perfect world we’d all parlay together, the three of us, but this would never be my reality. Too much animosity and pride would never allow such a magnificent congregation to take place. In fact, I knew they wanted to shoot the fade. I can’t lie a part of me was down to see that shit too.
Here I was on the auditorium courtyard now turned to a good old-fashioned show down. I guess women’s intuition led them to know they were each other’s competition. I never said a word, but I always noticed the side eyes each shot across the hall. Most niggas had students ready to scrap but my ass had teachers on that same shit crazy. “Don’t be rude Cynthia.” Ms. Jones said, giving Ms. Tarver a dirty ass look.
“Bitch please” Ms. Tarver mumbled under breath.
“Excuse me, what was that? See, I’m tired of your shit. I’ve been dealing with your bull shit all year.” Ms. Jones voice began to carry, turning heads.
“Marielle, I don’t have time for your posturing and shenanigans. Have some more class honey.”
Ms. Jones came across her shit with a mean backhand. Seemed like the whole courtyard said ooohhh… The lights from all the camera phones became blinding. I faded back as the crowd closed in rapidly, looking for that World Star moment. I turned around when I bumped into Celeste. She was about the only student who could have my attention. We made eye contact, and both headed to the lot. I asked if she’d mind getting me out of here. Originally Ms. Jones was supposed to take me to dinner but I wouldn’t touch her ass with a 10-foot pole right now. This debacle would surely be all over the net in 15 minutes. Celeste and I briskly navigated the maze of cars and made it to her Accord. As we got in, the crowd was just dispersing. “Where to superstar?” Celeste said it in a smug ass kind of way.
“Shit I’m hungry, you hungry?”
“I can eat.”
“I hope you still ain’t boujee like you used to be.”
“Oh, so you actually know something about me?” Celeste feigned a shocked expression. “I surely thought you were too busy taking trips across country and fucking faculty to remember.”
“What you talking bout lil mama?” I was trying to play it cool, but damn was it that apparent?
“Hmph, imma take you to my favorite spot to eat.”
I had gone to school with Celeste since 4thgrade, but she had always been somewhat of a mystery to me. I knew her well, but she was hard to figure out, if that makes sense. She was undoubtedly the prettiest girl in school, and I always had a thing for her, but I was consumed with all the other hoes that made it easier for me. While most of them pegged me for the dumb jock, but she knew otherwise. I learned early in the game that people would try to be on my coat tails to just be along for the ride. I played the game to get as much gain as I could out of the situation. Lil mama got shelved in the process but she was ever present internally. We rode in silence as I noticed the beach exit was coming up. She banked of to the flyover to head to I-195. She lowered the tunes. “Remember when you wrote that letter to me that summer you were supposed to be moving with your dad? That was so cute.” Celeste chuckled.
“What are you talking about? What letter? I never wrote no damn letter.” I had forgotten all about that damn letter. I had written that shit in like the seventh grade. At the time I felt like that was going to be the last time I saw her, so why not let it be known how I felt? The next school year we still ended up in the same school because my pussy ass pops backed out. That was when shit started getting awkward whenever I was around her. She knew how I really felt about her and I couldn’t handle it. I became reclusive towards her. By the time the spring came of 8th grade I was practicing with the high school and all the coaches and upper classmen ladies were salivating over me for clearly different reasons. I took on the persona and never really looked back. Half way through my 9thgrade season I was moved up to varsity and the local legend was born.
“You know exactly what letter I speak of. You can fool everybody else but I know what it is chump.” She looked over at me with the sweetest sassy look.
“Yeah you probably have more insight than most. Hell, you helped me on every project these last four years. So, what you saying?”
“What? Man, you flaw. How you going to leave it there like that?”
“You still hungry or nah?” She hopped out not obliging a single question. She handled me like others didn’t have the balls to do. But shit at 6’3” 230 lbs, running 4.41 in the forty 19 reps at 225 on paper but really, I’m hitting it 23 times. Celeste pandered to my inner teddy. I could only chuckle as this pretty, brown thing tortured me knowingly. Life thus far had kept me in its favor, yet this little 5’4” bombshell I’d known more than half my life was now my biggest mystery. I watched her ass switch in her dress as she led the way. I wanted to show her all Ms. Jones had taught me. We walked into the restaurant and it was apparent it had been here for eons. My nostrils instantly notified me that seafood was on the menu. I really was hoping to make Celeste my meal. I mean, it had crossed my mind during study sessions, but never on this level, it was always subtle, never this pressing in my frontal lobe. Little papi came from around back and with the most broken English, but somehow managed to get our order down. Though this felt like the kind of place that even if he got both orders wrong, no matter what came from the kitchen it would be bomb. I know she caught me staring into her beauty on several occasions. Like a G, she moved in silence. I couldn’t help but wonder if this would be it. Would this be the last time we’d vibe? In a week and a half I would be back in Gainesville. I had graduated early, in January. I was enrolled at UF and was prime for everything to take off smoothly.
We ate, reminisced, and made eyes at one another. An hour and a half later we found ourselves back at the car. “Let’s go get our feet wet.” I suggested. I wasn’t ready to leave this moment just yet.
“What you trying to do here?” She was calling bull shit.
“Man, what the hell you talking about?” She knew I wanted her.
“They take you for the customary dumb black jock boy, but I see through you. So, like I said nigga, what you trying to do here?”
“Last time was a false alarm but this time…. This time I think it’s real. I may not see you again after tonight, if not for a long time, maybe ever. I’m not sure I’m ready to live life without you.” Speechless she made her way to me. Her hands wrapped my neck, mine found her thick cakes. Our lips sent fireworks into the atmosphere, never mind if they were only visible to us. We crossed Collins Ave. to find the looming darkness approaching from the open ocean. Feet dug in deep now. Life didn’t have a more perfect feel. Crazy all the fame, hoes, and bribes couldn’t compare to this. “Promise me if I make it to the SEC Championship that you’d come see me play in Atlanta.”
“Boy Imma be all the way in Louisiana. How…”
“I’d fly you there.”
“We’ll see.” Our lips again met and hands began to get life. Exploring. Her softness on my hardness. My chiseled flesh brushing her curves. She made a nigga feel like I could take on the world. The tide caught us immersed in passion. No fucks of what the world had going on around us. I picked her up and we drifted with the current until she was waist deep. I squatted making my thighs a perfect place for her to perch. Her dress floated to the surface, leaving just her and her boy shorts at my disposal. She undid my belt buckle. Swollen and ready her hands wrapped my thickness. “Damn you feel good in my hand Darryl. I want you inside me. I been dream of this for years. Its time I let you know how I feel about you.” She pulled me close by my dick. Slid her panties to the side splitting my rod with her pussy. It took a sec foe me to get in with us being in water and all, and here I was thinking water was a natural lubricant. We found our rhythm and we were grinding in the darkness to the motion of the ocean. That was the first time a nigga came in some pussy. Love was never more real than in the moment we shared.
Short lived was the euphoric high. It was a quarter til 12 when we pulled in front of mom’s crib. There was what looked to be media across the street. I thought damn what’s going on over there. Before getting out we sat and wrapped shit up. I didn’t know what this meant in the grand scheme of things but I knew every day until I went back to school I wanted to spend with her. I thanked her and kissed her, I too let it be known I wanted to see her tomorrow. As I stepped out I made it 7 paces before I was rushed.
A million and one questions came from every direction. I managed to see Celeste in the crowd but was unable to reach her. I bolted for the door. Once inside Mom rushed me as well. “Boy please tell me this is all a lie.”
“What are you talking about mom?” She pulled out her phone and showed me the fight from earlier. The caption reads (Teachers fist fight over student they both have an affair with).“Fuck!!!!!!”
So here I am at Southern University’s orientation. I fell from greatness to my favorite HBCU. Here I was still big man on campus, but suddenly my pool was so much smaller than it once was. I was just like all the dumb jocks before me. The key thing Ms. Jones used to make me feel comfortable was the fear tactics of how high school girls could get me cased up and ruin my future, and yet look at me, I still fucked up. So, it was fuck bitches. I had an uphill battle now to live out my dream. The world had birthed an asshole. Losing my scholarship made me so hungry. I was going to shit on the world like it had shitted on me. 2 months of hiding and barely being able to do the one thing you’ve loved and done since you were 5 will do that to you. Savage life for 3 years and we going for the check.
The love I was getting made me feel like I was back home in High School. There were so many bad bitches. I was making a mental note of all the hearts that would be trampled. There was one I made eyes with that reminded, me of Celeste. She was every bit as sexy as my lil mama. Shit was so crazy I hadn’t seen her since that night. This little thing was a hair lighter in complexion and she had an aura about her that let the world know she was every bit of the shit as you thought she was. A room full of dames and I wanted to know her name.
Your stories make me incredibly happy, and I see your thingum (header?) is Chicago. Can you maybe tell a story at some point about the Magnificent Mile and/or the Tribune Tower?
I actually just moved here a few months ago, so I’m not supremely familiar with either beyond wikipedia and an architectural tour! I’ll sure give it a try anyway, thanks for the prompt!
The Tribune Tower is a magical hodge podge nightmare place that Steven sort of wishes would just be transported to another dimension already. As the tower’s watcher, he’s not allowed to wish that, but his boss can’t mind read so.
The tower can fuck right off.
Objectively, it’s quite pretty. Gothic design hoisted high into the air, buttresses, stone, the whole nine-yards. His parents had said things like “scenic” and “honor” and “historic” when he’d first been assigned. Back then, he’d even agreed with them.
Now he knows better.
“Get. Your. Hand. Off. The. Stone,” he says through gritted teeth. He’s not angry; he’s cold. It’s snowing lightly, muffling the world around them. Oh, sorry, the snow’s not muffling the world. That’d be the distraction charm, a charm designed to turn the non-magical eye away, cast by the man crouched at the base of the tower.
The man turns and Steven is suddenly angry and cold.
“Raul,” Steven says, taking his hands out of his pockets. “Now.” The chill races from his hands as he calls fire to them.
“Guardian,” Raoul greets far too cheerfully for someone who’s been caught red-handed. Again. “I was just touching, no need to get all snippy.”
Raoul backs away from the tower, hands raised as if to say no harm, no foul. Steven isn’t about to believe the older man, so he stalks forward, keeping a wary eye on him.
This is what Steven is supposed to be watching. There are stones from all over the world embedded in the tower. The Taj Mahal, the White House, the Alamo. Dozens of historic places have lost parts of themselves to this Chicagoan landmark and, for whatever reason, many of them are at ground level. Where idiot sorcerers like Raoul can just walk right up and touch them.