some of us have been really holding this close to us lately

✿ ———— beauty and the beast sentence starters.

’ How can you read this? There’s no pictures! ’
’ Well, some people use their imagination… ’
’ This is the day your dreams come true. ’
’ I’m-I’m speechless. I really don’t know what to say. ’
’ Say you’ll marry me! ’
’ I just don’t deserve you! ’
’ I want to do something for him/her… but what? ’
’ No, no! It’s got to be more something more special than that! ’
’ This is yet another example of the late neoclassic Baroque period. ’
’ If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had feelings for this monster. ’
’ I thought I told you to come down to dinner! ’
’ I’m not hungry! ’
’ You’ll come out, or I’ll-I’ll-I’ll break down the door! ’
’ Will you come down to dinner? ’
’ It would give me great pleasure… ’
’ We say please. ’
’ You can’t stay in there forever! ’
’ Fine! Then go ahead and starve! ’
’ Oh dear. That didn’t go very well at all, did it? ’
’ If she/he doesn’t eat with me, then she/he doesn’t eat at all! ’
’ Who said anything about the castle being enchanted? ’
’ It was you, wasn’t it? ’
’ Oh, you look so… so… ’
’ Not quite the word I was looking for, but perhaps a - little more off the top. ’
’ Maybe some other time… ’
’ _______, you are positively primeval! ’
’ Why did you come here? ’
’ Do you realize what you could have done? ’
’ I didn’t mean any harm. ’
’ Please… stop… ’
’ Who’s there? Who are you? ’
’ I’ve come for my father. Please, let him out! Can’t you see, he’s sick? ’
’ Please, I’ll do anything! ’
’ Oh, there must be some way I can… ’
’ Then he/she shouldn’t have trespassed here! ’
’ The master of this castle… ’
’ Wait! Take me instead. ’
’ You don’t know what you’re doing! ’
’ Yes. But… you must promise to stay here forever! ’
’ Come into the light… ’
’ You have my word… ’
’ For who could ever learn to love a beast? ’
’ Do I still have to sleep in the cupboard? ’
’ That’s not a request! ’
’ I’ve been burnt by you before! ’
’ I’m afraid I’ve been thinking… ’
’ If you’d hold still, it wouldn’t hurt as much! ’
’ Well, if you hadn’t have run away, this wouldn’t have happened! ’
’ If you hadn’t frightened me, I wouldn’t have run away! ’
’ Well you shouldn’t have been in the west wing! ’
’ Well, you should learn to control your temper! ’
’ Now, hold still. This might sting a little. ’
’ By the way, thank you… for saving my life. ’
’ Couldn’t keep quiet, could we? ’
’ Just had to invite him/her to stay, didn’t we? ’
’ I was trying to be hospitable. ’
’ I want adventure in the great wide somewhere. ’
’ I want so much more than they’ve got planned… ’
’ Well, Your Highness, I must say everything is going just swimmingly. ’
’ I knew you had it in you, ha ha! ’
’ You what? How could you do that? ’
’ I use antlers in all of my decorating! ’
’ I-I-I was lost in the woods, and-and… ’
’ Please, I meant no harm. I-I just need a place to stay. ’
’ What’re you staring at? ’
’ I’ll give you a place to stay. ’
’ No, no! Please! Don’t, no! ’
’ I’d like to thank you all for coming to my wedding. ’
’ Sir, close that at once! Do you mind? ’
’ It is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight. ’
’ Oh, must help her/him to see past all that. ’
’ Well, you can start by making yourself more presentable. ’
’ Oh, it’s no use. ’
’ I don’t know how. ’
’ Come, come, show me the smile. ’
’ There’s a stranger here! ’
’ Pardon me, Master… ’
’ Leave me in peace. ’
’ It doesn’t matter now. Just let them come. ’
’ I’ll show you to your room. ’
’ Do you wanna stay in the tower? ’
’ You must control your temper! ’
’ Of course I came back. I couldn’t let them… oh, this is all my fault! ’
’ You… you came back. ’
’ If only I had gotten here sooner. ’
’ Maybe… maybe… it’s better… it’s better this way. ’
’ Don’t talk like that! You’ll be alright. ’
’ We’re together now; everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see… ’
’ And at least… at least I got to see you… one last time. ’
’ Please. Please… Please don’t leave me. ’
’ Well, perhaps there’s something there that wasn’t there before. ’
’ There may be something there that wasn’t there before. ’
’ Shh. I’ll tell you when you’re older. ’
’ I’ll not have you making up such wild stories. ’
’ Let me go! Let me go, please! Don’t hurt me! I’ll do anything! Anything! ’
’ I’m… I’m about ready to give up on this hunk of junk. ’
’ This castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you like, except the West Wing. ’
’ I mean it this time! I’ll never get this boneheaded contraption to work! ’
’ Well, what are we waiting for? ’
’ I’ll have this thing fixed in no time! ’
’ You really believe that? ’
’ Be our guest. ’
’ Is it dangerous? ’
’ Oh no, he’d/she’d never hurt anyone. ’
’ Hmmm. Could you read it again? ’
’ Why don’t you read it to me? ’
’ You mean, you never learned? ’
’ I learned… a little. It’s just been… so long. ’
’ Well, here, I’ll help you. ’
’ What would you say if you and I took a walk over to the tavern and took a look at my trophies? ’
Energy Based Witchcraft and Quick Practices

All right, so this is essentially the beginning of energy related witchcraft that I’ll be posting about as I try it and learn new things. Feel free to try out some of the stuff I talk about here but please remember that this is your journey and you can and should edit and tweak everything to best fit you.

Types of Energy

Reserved Energy

Reserved Energy floats either just above or below your skin. It should feel like it’s attached to you and resist most attempts to use it. It is minimally pliant, minimally workable, and mostly just exists as a backup or protection.

Latent Energy

Latent Energy is typically a ball of energy that is extremely malleable and easily visualized. This type of energy is more ‘for your use’. It can be visualized anywhere in the body; however, where ever it best seems to fit (i.e. a ball of energy in your stomach, chest, head, etc) is normally where it stays. Latent energy is great to work with to give yourself a better mastery over molding both Reserved and Latent energy.

Neighboring/Immediate Energy

Neighboring (or Immediate) Energy is an amalgamation of your energies and outside forces. It’s best visualized and felt by meditating. If you’ve meditated and felt like you were basically out of your own body and hazy, you’ve felt Neighboring Energy. It’s less you and, as a by product, significantly harder to work with. It’s not as difficult as Reserved Energy since that’s an active rejection to change, and this is simply difficult because you’re reaching beyond yourself.

Visualizing Your Energy

Visualizing energy can be a bit tricky, but seeing your energy, in my opinion, is equally important as feeling it. Being able to see and acknowledge your energy makes feeling and moving it so much simpler. There are a couple of ways to visualize your energy, so we’ll hop into those first:

First Plane Visualization (FPV)

If you close your eyes to visualize your energy and the first thing you see is your body, this is where you’re at. First Plane Visualization essentially means your energy best manifests itself to you as a physical part of you. Personally, I feel this makes it easier to work with Latent and Reserved Energy, but harder to work with Neighboring.

Second Plane Visualization (SPV)

If attempting to visualize your energy brings up empty space with your energy in some form or shape in it, congrats, this is you. This type of visualization makes it significantly easier to work with energy that isn’t yours but more difficult to work with your own as well. Your energy seems to best manifest itself as a construct in your mind, essentially on a different plane than your physical body. To use it, you have to get around your own barrier between it and physicality whereas outside energies that are already on your plane don’t need any extra work for you to work with them.

When you visualize your energy, you’re essentially introducing yourself and greeting it. In the same way you most likely wouldn’t hand a stranger a thousand dollars, your energy isn’t likely to do much for you if you don’t at least know it.

Moving Your Energy

Think of your energy as a muscle, if you never use it, it becomes that much more difficult to begin using and to strengthen it.  Please don’t expect to hop in, visualize your energy once, and suddenly have it do everything you want it to.

First try visualizing your energy with your eyes closed. Spend some time with it, don’t demand anything of it. Is your energy naturally calm? Does it spin lazily as you sit with it? Is your energy a spitfire, constantly flinging out strands of itself and wrapping around everything it can without leaving it’s basic shape? Who is your energy? What kind of personality do you get from it?

Try to learn and love your energy every time you visualize it. When you’ve got the image of your energy firmly in your head, preferably to the point where you can almost feel  it wherever it’s best visualized, try moving it. Try to get a strand of it to detach from the bulk of your energy and pull it towards you. If that’s difficult, simply work on moving the bulk of your energy towards and away from you (SPV) or around your body (FPV). This should honestly take awhile. Remember that you’re not simply trying to visualize it, but feel it. As it moves, you should feel it. Once you’ve got a mastery of that, try opening your eyes and doing it over again.

When you can move your energy in bulk or pieces with a bit more ease, I recommend pushing it to the surface. The easiest place to feel Latent Energy is between your palms. If trying to move your energy with in yourself simply won’t work for you, try this instead, then move back to that later. To push your energy to your hands for FPV, imagine it wherever it tends to manifest itself. Push it, either in whole or (preferably) in part, down or up your body and into your palms. If you need your eyes closed to direct it, by all means, close them; however, once you’ve got it comfortably in your palms, open your eyes and try to get used to keeping a hold on your energy with your eyes open. Allow it to do as it pleases within the space between your palms. Start out with maybe half a foot between your hands and slowly increase the distance as you grow more confident.

For SPV, visualize your energy and bring it towards you. Bring out either two bits of it, still connected to the whole, or the bulk of it towards yourself until it feels like you’ve stepped inside of it or as though it’s encompassed you. Carefully, without losing that feeling, visualize it (either with your eyes opened or closed depending on what works better for you) sparking its way down your arms and into your hands. If that’s too far to visualize, simply imagine it condensing between or in your palms for the get-go. Because your own image is less involved in your own energy, expect to have a harder time keeping it where you want it to be.

Energy, like most objects, rejects movement without force. When you move it at first, it may feel like it snaps back to where it started no matter what you do. Keep practicing and remember that it hasn’t really moved in years, so it’ll take some work to get it to move now.

Energy Exercises

We’re finally at the end of what I can share for the time being. I only have a couple of practices that I’ve been using lately, only one of which I’ll add here, specifically for Reserved Energy because that’s what I’m practicing working with currently. I will update this as time goes on but I do want to be sure before I give put any exercises. For example, one of them uses hunger as a basis and I don’t know how I feel about giving a purpose to staying hungry, so I’ll wait to add that if at all.

Exercise 1

Find a cold room or area, cold enough to give you goosebumps but not enough to shiver. Furthermore, if it’s outdoors, make sure there’s little to no wind. Wear short or no sleeves. Allow the cold to seep into your skin. Visualize your reserved energy; this may be a thin layer above or below your skin.

If it appears above your skin, give it intent, push it to separate you from the cold. In practice, this literally felt like a wash of lukewarm warmth sliding down from my head. The cold felt like someone holding an ice cube near my skin, but didn’t actually make me cold.

If it appears below your skin, incite it to heat itself. The cold should sink into your skin and meet that barrier of energy and fizzle out. I can’t tell you how it feels in practice because my Reserved Energy appears above the skin. If you try this out and are okay to share, I’d love to know how it differs.

Updates

I’ll either update or make new posts on this as I learn. I love energy based craft and I’ve got a lot more things I’m practicing that I’m not confident enough in quite yet to share…but soon. Here’s a mini-list of what you can expect in the future:

Moving Energy Into Objects

Visualizing Neighboring Energy

Using Neighboring Energy

Taking Energy from an Object

NOTE: All of the names I’ve given energy, energy types, etc were made by me simply to make it easier to refer to and talk about. If you call any of the feelings or activities something else, by all means, continue doing so. This is just what makes it easiest to understand for me.

Bad Things- Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: Just glimpses in to Jughead and Reader’s relationship. Heavily based off of the song “Bad Things” by Camila Cabello and Machine gun Kelly because I’m a total slut for that bop

Warnings: SIN SIN SIN SIN SO MUCH SIN IM A SINNER, Swearing, implied smut, actual descriptive smut like guys this is kinda intense.

I DID IT OKAY I SINNED FOR Y’ALL

(Disclaimer: If you are uncomfortable with Jughead Jones smut then Do.Not.Read. This is literal actual smut intended for the Riverdale Tv Show version of Jughead Jones portrayed by Cole Sprouse, as all my other fics are. If you are offended or do not like this kind of stuff, then just keep scrolling. This is requested by my followers and I won’t deny it or not do it simply because a few other people don’t like it.)


            ___________________________________________-

“Am I outta my head, am I outta my mind? If you only knew the bad things I like.”


It was the little things about him that always had me craving him. The veins along his wrists, when his jaw was clenched. The little hints of curls that poked out of his gray beanie, almost as if they were begging to see the light of day. The frame of his body was probably my favorite part. I had never been attracted to buff men, particularly guys like my friend Archie Andrews. He was a whole different story though. He was tall and lean, almost comparing to the body of a track runner, but his body was still toned in all of the right places, and he was certainly strong enough to carry me up my stairs to my bedroom. Jughead Jones made me think the most sinful things, and I couldn’t ever stop. I’m just lucky that the feeling is mutual.

“Y/n?Did you just hear a thing I said?” My best friend Veronica looked at me expectantly, her eyebrows raised and looking frustrated with me. Truthfully, I hadn’t heard a thing she said. I was too busy focusing my attention on something more…interesting.

Jughead Jones had started out as a friend. That’s how they all did, right? We had four classes together, and mutual friends, so of course, we grew incredibly close over time.Eventually, it became something more The boy stared back at me, his blue eyes piercing through mine and in to my head, almost reading my thoughts. I saw as he mouthed a simple word “tonight” and I gave him a slight nod, biting my lip in response.

“Sorry V, she’s too focused on her loverboy.” Archie taunted me, passing by us and to his friend, knocking shoulders with him. Jughead blushed slightly, not moving from his position on the lockers, his arms crossed over him. I could fix that.

I strutted over, my hips moving a little more than they usually do. Jughead uncrossed his arms and they immediately went to my waist once I reached him, pulling me in to his body that was still against the lockers. I leaned up, pressing my lips to his quickly before the bell rang. I broke apart from my boyfriend, my hand sliding down his shirt slowly. I pulled away, winking at him before strutting off. I didn’t even have to turn around to know his eyes were on me, watching my every step.



“No matter what you say, no matter what you do, I only wanna do bad things to you.”



Jughead and I had been together for a good six months before we got in to our first fight. He always had his nose shoved in to his laptop, and I got no attention from him anymore, and I was angry. I had waited a while for him to notice, and he never did, so I took matters in to my own hands.

My boyfriend sat at a stool in my kitchen, his hands in his hair and his laptop in front of him, His beanie long forgotten on the counter. If I wasn’t so pissed at him, I might have offered to release some of that tension, but I wasn’t in a giving mood that day. I slammed the laptop shut, my eyes glaring at him. Jughead looked up at me with a confused look.

“Forsythe, do you remember why I invited you over?” I asked him, my eyebrow cocked while I waited to his answer. His mouth opened slightly, trying to string together something and drawing up a blank. I scoffed, shaking my head and walking away.

“Baby, wait-” Jughead hopped off the stool, following me out of the room.

“Jughead, I asked you to come over because I wanted to spend time with you!! Not so I could watch you on your laptop the whole time! I just want some of you to myself!is that too much?”

“You know how important this novel is to me, y/n-”

“ I know that! But I should be more important!” I shouted. I didn’t care if I sounded selfish. I was pissed.

“ Of course you’re more important! What kind of question is that?!” Jughead looked at me like I was ridiculous and I shook my head.

“Really? Because sometimes it feels like you would choose that book over me if it came down to it.” I crossed my arms, my foot tapping against the hardwood floor. Jughead’s face fell, and the anger on his face was replaced with a sad look.

“That is not true, that is not true at all, I would always choose you.” Jughead closed the gap between us, his arms wrapping around my waist. I pushed him away slightly, my hands on his chest.


“Prove it.” I spoke bravely, my tone of voice becoming different.


Everything happened relatively quickly from there.Jughead’s hands went around my back, lifting me so my legs were wrapped around his waist, and his fingers wrapping around the backs of my thighs. His mouth was on mine and I felt my back hit the wall. Jughead’s lips went to my neck, sucking harshly at the skin until purple bruises adorned it. My hands went to his sweater, almost ripping the fabric just to get it off of him.

“ My room,” I panted, my hands tangled in Jughead’s hair while he sucked harshly at the collarbone peeking out of my tank top. He adjusted my body that was wrapped around his before making his way to the stairs, carrying me up them. I felt my back hit my mattress and Jughead was on top of me, his legs on either side of my waist and his hands already under my shirt. His had already been tossed over a chair in my room.

I flipped us over so I was on top,grinding my lower body in to his. Jughead let out a low groan, his head tilting upwards at the contact. My hands made quick work unbuckling his belt, pulling it off of him quickly and unbuttoning his jeans. Jughead looked at me impressed.

“No matter how many times you do that, I’m still pretty shocked at your skillwork.” Jughead’s arms went behind his head, a smirk now on his face.

“Don’t get too comfortable.” I taunted, my hands going behind my back.

I unclasped my bra, tossing it across my room somewhere. Jughead sat up quickly, his mouth already on my chest, littering my body with hickeys. He flipped us over again so he was in control, and pressed open mouth kisses down my stomach to my hips, his fingers curling under my sweatpants and dragging the waistband down and off of me. My breath hitched in my throat when I felt his lips on my thigh, leaving light little kisses up them until his mouth was over the fabric of my underwear. My back arched off the mattress at the feeling, my fingers gripping the sheets until my knuckles turned white. Jughead hooked two of his digits in to the side of my underwear, pulling them slowly down my thighs.

“Jug… Jug please.” I begged, not really in the mood to take things slow. Jughead pulled the fabric down the rest of my legs, and they went flinging in an unknown direction of the bedroom.Jughead’s head dipped down, and I was breathing intensely, my hands going to his hair and tangling in to the strands, gripping tightly.




“We’re both wild, and the nights young, and you’re my drug.”




Parties weren’t Jughead’s thing, but Cheryl was in fact now a part of our gang, and it was only fair to at least make an appearance. So, on Saturday night, I was getting dressed and ready to go to her party. I wore a simple blue dress a gold belt with a bow around my waist, and some black ankle boots. Veronica and Betty laid on my bed, chatting amongst the two of them while I finished my makeup. I was finishing my lipstick when Archie and Jughead walked in to my door, both of them surprisingly having smiles on their faces.

Jughead made his way towards me immediately, pressing a kiss to my temple and standing behind me, his arms wrapping loosely around my shoulders. I looked at him through my vanity mirror, blowing a kiss at him, and he blushed and rolled his eyes.

“Are you almost ready y/n?” Betty sighed exasperatedly. She say up from the bed, smoothing out her romper, and Veronica wrapped her an arm around her waist, leaning her head against her girlfriends shoulder

“Oh, Bets, let the poor girl take her time. It’s always classier to be fashionably late.” Veronica pressed a kiss to the shell of Betty’s ear and her face went red.

                                       —————————————–

We arrived on time to the party and everyone split up, Betty and Veronica dancing, Archie talking to Valerie, and my back to Jughead’s chest as we sunk in to a corner of the room, to have some privacy. His arms were around my waist, holding my tightly to his body while he pressed kisses to my neck, whispering incredibly sinful things about what he would be doing to me right this minute had we not been at Cheryl’s house.

I know that Jughead would have rather been at my house tonight, cuddled in to each other on my couch watching a movie, or just talking and being in each other’s presence, or even trying out some of the things he had been whispering to me. I felt a little sympathetic for him, but I knew just the way to cheer him up.

I turned around, my hands slipping in to his, and I pulled him towards the middle of the room. An upbeat song was playing and everybody was dancing and jumping around. Jughead huffed, not wanting to go, but I knew he wouldn’t resist if I tried hard enough.

I finally got him to the middle of the room, my hands lacing with his, my back pressed against his chest as my hips swayed back and forth to the music. I could feel Jughead was tense, so I gave him a little incentive by pushing my lower body in to his slightly, and I heard his breath shudder a bit before he was moving his body against mine and his lips were on my neck.

“we should go back to your place."Jughead whispered, his lips brushing against my skin. I tilted my neck so he could have easier access, taking his hands in mine and running them down the sides of my body. With the way his body was moving against mine, and all the things he had been sharing with me earlier, it would be an understatement to say I was worked up. I grabbed his hand again, weaving through the crowds and shouting a goodbye to Betty and Veronica before starting the trek to my house. Jughead and I walked hand in hand, slowing down every once in a while to kiss each other.


"When we get home, you’re in for it.”

“Oh, I know.”




“And you keep me in with those hips, while my teeth sink in those lips, while your body’s giving me life, and you suffocate in my kiss.”


Fuck, Forsythe.” I hissed, my nails digging in to his back. My hips moved slowly down on to his length, my fingers moving up his back and in to his hair. His hands were wrapped around my body, his lips biting harshly at my shoulder. When I felt my body adjust to him, I rose my hips before sinking back down on to him again.Jughead captured my lips with his, his teeth biting gently in to my bottom lip. We lazily kissed as I moved up and down slowly, my walls tightening around him slightly. Jughead held me as close to his body as he could, our chests pressed together.

I was on cloud 9 every time I was intimate with Jug. Everything about him was breath taking, and he was so beautiful when he was like this: his lips slightly parted, his curly hair matted down and sticking to his forehead, and his body shining from the warmth of our bodies colliding.

I started to move my hips a little faster, grinding down on to Jughead’s hips. Jughead buried his face in to the crook of my neck, and his arms wrapped around me even tighter, if that was possible. I used whatever energy I had left to move my hips faster, bringing Jughead and I both to the edge. I could feel the warmth in the pit of my stomach, warning me that I was close.

“F-fuck, Forsythe,I-”

“I know, baby.” Jughead began to meet his hips with mine on every thrust, one arm unwrapping from around my body to press the pad of his finger to my clit. I gasped at the sensation, my nails scratching against his back harder.

“Shit, shit, I-I’m-” I cut myself off, not having enough breath to finish my sentence. I felt my stomach tighten and then I was cumming on Jughead’s dick, a quiet moan escaping my lips. I kept thrusting against him, riding out my high while he chases his, soon I was being hit with overstimulation, but I powered through it, bouncing against Jughead as fast as I could.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, I’m gonna-” strings of curse words escaped Jughead’s lips as he flipped us over, pounding in to me as hard as he could. His lips went around on of my nipples, sucking harshly, and his fingers rubbed quickly and forcefully against my clit, drawing out another orgasm from me.

Before I knew it, I was cumming again, this time Jughead following as he came inside me. Jughead’s body collapsed on top of mine, not before pulling out of me slowly. My hands tangled themselves in his hair and his arms went back around my body, his head laying against my chest. I could feel his heart race against my own beating heart, and I looked down at my beautiful boyfriend, as I smiled.He was all mine.





“The way we love, is so unique, and when we touch, I’m shivering.”





I woke up to the light shining from my bedroom window, the rays of sun peeking through my curtains and casting rays of light along the sleeping bodies of Jughead and I. The night before had been our one year anniversary, and he “spent the night”, Which resulted in to this morning, the both of us naked in my bed. Jughead was already awake, his fingers tracing along my arms.Goosebumps ran along my skin at the feeling of his touch, leaning up to give him a kiss.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Jughead mumbled against my lips. I giggled as his fingers went to my sides, tickling me the slightest bit.

“Good morning, handsome.” I smiled down at him, my eyes practically in the shapes of hearts. I loved this boy to death. He was the most perfect thing I had ever found in this world.

“How are you feeling?” He asked me, his fingers stopping so his arms could wrap around my back. He pulled our bodies tighter together.

“I’m great.” I told him, leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. Jughead’s face scrunched up slightly and I giggle again, my hands cupping his cheeks.

“I love you, so much. So, so, soso much.” I started pressing kisses all over his face and I felt it scrunch up again before catching my lips with his. Jughead wasn’t a super affectionate person in public, so I loved these moments I had with him, hidden away under my covers, where it was just the two of us.





“And no one has to get it, just you and me.”






“I swear to god, you two are the most sickeningly cute couple in..in… In god knows what!” Veronica threw her hands up dramatically before slamming them down on to the table at the booth. She looked at the two of us, who sat across from each other. Jughead and I didn’t break our eye contact, still looking at each other and smiling brightly.

“Come on, V.It’s cute. They’re cute.” Betty defended, sitting across from her girlfriend.

“ I know, but look at them! All they do is stare at each other like its the morning after their first time.“ Veronica scoffed before pausing for a second. Her mouth opened in shock before she whispered loudly.

"You guys fucked!” Jughead and I broke apart at that, looking at Veronica with wide eyes. I was about to shake my head when Jughead interrupted.

“We’ve been fucking, V. Catch up.” Ronnie and Betty’s mouth fell open simultaneously at the confidence in Jughead’s voice.He leaned back in the booth and turned his attention back to me, cheekily winking at me. My cheeks grew hot as I looked back at my best friends, mouths still open in shock.

“You guys, you, you’re-” Ronnie stammered, looking back and forth at each other. Jughead and I started laughing at Ronnie’s reaction, and she sputtered.

“I don’t get your relationship. I seriously don’t.” Ronnie slumped in her seat, her chin resting in the palm of her hand.

“Cheer up, V. It’s y/n and Jughead. Nobody gets it except them.” Jughead and I had already tuned out Betty though, our attention going back to each other. Nobody had to understand our relationship, because it wasn’t theirs. It was ours, And it was perfect.

Just a Dream

So I have fallen completely in love with @thebbros and I encourage you all to check it out and give @blogthegreatrouge the creater of this AU some love! This has made me really excited to get back into writing, which more will be coming soon. Until then, thank you so much for your support, and I hope you enjoy. So without further ado, all aboard for another adventure! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ozzy? Wake up honey, you don’t want to be late for your own show do you?”

The rabbit grumbled a bit before he opened his eyes, the sweet call of his wife enticing the sleep to part.

“Mmm…Ortensia?” Drowsiness coating his voice.

Wait a minute, Ortensia!?

He bolted upright, the covers flying in sudden shock. How? She was dead, he was there! His hands had been drenched in her blood, tears, and that sickly ink. What kind of a sick joke was this?!

A soft hand touched his cheek, making him look in that direction. She stared in his eyes, filled with loving concern.

“Ozzy? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He could hardly speak. She was there, alive right in front of him. Was it all just a bad dream?

He couldn’t help himself, he pulled her tight against him, tears flowing down his furred cheeks. He wanted to take everything in. Her smell, her warmth, her soft fur. He would never let anything happen to her again.

“Oswald? Are you sure you’re ok?” She asked worriedly. She only ever used his birth name when she was worried or cross.

He pulled back, wiping his tears with a soft laugh.

“Heh, yeah. Just…*sniff*…just had a bad dream is all.“

She gently wiped the tears that stained his fur as he lovingly kissed her small, gentle, perfect hand.

“Did you want to talk about it?”

He kissed her lips, soft and slow, cherishing the moment.

“Nah, I’m ok now that you’re here. Besides, we’ve got a show to do!”

~~~~~~

The crowd cheered, the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Man was he excited for today’s act! He held out his hand to Ortensia, glittering in her pink assistant uniform.

“Well, it’s almost time. Ready to make magic and dreams come true Ortensia?”

With a soft purr, she reached out and held his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, smiling warmly.

“Always.”

With a final kiss, and a tremendous magical entrance, they smiled and waved, the cheers of the crowd raising their spirits.

Oswald looked around, it felt like it had been years since he felt this much excitement, this much joy. Everything was alright. He was living the dream.

He turned toward his wife, but for some reason she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Everything suddenly felt cold.

“W-what?”

He frantically looked around. What happened to the crowd, the light? Ortensia? Everyone was gone and he was left alone in the dark.

“Ortensia! Where are you?” His heart beat frantically as he ran, his legs taking him anywhere and nowhere.

The sound of a spotlight turning on startled him. He turned slowly around, fearing what he might find.

“Ortensia!”

She lay there in the light, still, lifeless, her back facing him. Without hesitation, he ran towards her, tears welling up in his eyes. He carefully lifted her light body, turning her face towards him. His hands shook, eyes wide in disbelief.

“O-ozzy? Ozzy please…Help me…It hurts…” Her soft voice, barely a whisper cracked, the words choking amidst the ink. Her once beautiful eyes had now been ripped of color, blinded by the ink ravaging every inch of her midnight fur.

“H-how…?”

She seized up in his arms, the pain more intense than ever, her screams filling his ears.

Why? This wasn’t supposed to happen! What about their hopes? Their dreams!?

Her tears mixed with the ink, her screams of anguish bleeding out in an awful chorus. He held her tightly, his own screams joining in.

“ORTENSIA!!!”

~~~~~~~~~

He woke up with a start, the sheets crumpling under him. His tired eyes surveyed the empty room, cold and dull. His hand, fur rough and unkempt rubbed his once again emotionless face.

It was just a dream.

Stupid.

The door creaked open and brightly, but quietly hopped in one of his many beautiful children. They crept close to the bed, their large eyes filled with youth staring up at his withered eyes.

“Papa? Uncle Goofy and I want to know if you’d like to come with us to go shopping?”

He stared blankly, the fright from earlier long since gone. He reached down and lifted the child up, a quick hug, stiff but filled with a pained love. He nodded solemnly. The words mocked his mind as he walked out the room with his child.

It’s your fault the dream died.

His emotionless face showed nothing of the demons he fed, his hand loosely holding the tender paw. Today was just another day without her. Sure he loved his children dearly, but without her, how could he ever smile again? His baby brother, friends, his own kids always tried to cheer him up, to make him smile even a little. But for everyone, even himself, it would never be.

That would just be another hopeless dream.

A very long time ago @jennthereaper and @simplyn2deep both sent me this prompt, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long, but the other day I was finally inspired to take a stab at it. I hope you enjoy!

From The Way You Said “I Love You” 

#26 Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave

Please, Derek, please, I–“ Stiles chokes back the beginnings of tears and clutches harder at the sleeve of Derek’s jacket. He’s on his knees, having tripped in his scramble to get to Derek from the other side of the loft. “I love you, okay? And I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, I’ve been a coward about this whole thing, but I love you. And I know you love me too. I know you do, and I need you not to leave like this, fuck, Derek, please don’t do this.”

Derek stares down at him for a long time, heart clenched in his throat.

And then he looks up at where the other Stiles is pursing his lips in a hard frown as he watches the scene.

“It isn’t real?” Derek asks for the hundredth time since the other Stiles, the real Stiles, showed up in this apparent dreamscape.

Stiles shakes his head stiffly.

The Stiles on the floor is still pleading with him around tears, but the noises of his despair are starting to fade, as if Derek were now hearing him from a distance. Even his heartbeat, a sound that Derek has been clinging to as an anchor for what feels like forever, begins to disappear.

Derek swallows and steels himself against feeling anything more than determination to get through this newest mess.

“What now?” he asks, tone clinical and firm.

Stiles answers him in a similar tone, his expression betraying nothing about what’s going on in his own head. A far cry from the Stiles that Derek first met a couple years ago, terrified and mouthy and young. “Now you wake up.”

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His || Jungkook || 0.13

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13

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Hair, Sex, and Make-up

Being the youngest hair and makeup artist for the idol boy group BTS was your dream. Since you finally got to achieve it things were great and although it was hard being the youngest on the crew you knew that they loved you. You became close to the boys, but more so to Jungkook since you were the same age. However it seemed like things were going to change.

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6k


Originally posted by officialwookkibby



“Yah, ___. Can you grab my makeup bag for me?”

“Yes, unnie.” You frowned in concentration and looked at Yoongi apologetically before running across the room and grabbing the forgotten make-up bag. Being the youngest hair and makeup stylist for the idol group BTS had it’s ups and downs. The boys loved you and you were close to many of them but the older girls bossed you around a lot.

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for you pt. 7 [m]

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Badboy!Taehyung, angst

Word Count: 5.3k

Originally posted by vminv

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Six Months Later

You walked down the hallway of the academic building slowly, the weight of the paper in your bag causing you to drag your feet. Each footstep bringing more and more uncertainty about the next chapter of your life. You noticed that the door to your professor’s office was locked, and a small sigh of relief escaped your lips.

You didn’t want to have to explain to him how all your interviews had turned to dead ends. You didn’t want to have to explain how you were still going to be stuck in this town. Stuck in the memories of the past year when all you wanted to do was move forward. There was nothing that you wanted more than leaving. If he could leave, so could you. But instead you had gotten hired at the coffee shop in which you first met him. Left to repeat the same memories over and over again.

And as you left the building for the last time, you didn’t feel any different. The emptiness that had filled your chest the day he left was still there. You held your phone up to your ear, the familiar number having been dialed like clockwork. “We are sorry, but the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.” seared through your ears after the first dial tone.

You kicked at a rock while waiting to cross the street. There was no reason for you to continue to call that number. But there was still a large part of you that hoped he would come back. That when you called his voice would saying hello on the other end. But no one had heard from him. Not you. Not the boys. It was like he had erased himself from your universe.

Taehyung crept into your mind during your most vulnerable moments. Like when the sun hit your skin in the middle of the afternoon, reminding you of the hours you would spend sitting next to him in the front seat of his car. Driving the two of you around while blasting old music and singing along so out of tune that everyone else would stare at you from their cars.

You missed him when you couldn’t get a jar open, not because he was strong enough to open them. But because you would hunch over in fits of laughter as you watched him turn red in the face while trying to open it. He wasn’t much of a muscle pig, but you thought his effort was the cutest.

He was in the worn out t-shirt hidden in the back of your closet. A piece of clothing you didn’t know you had until your nose caught the smell of his cologne the first time Mina came over to your apartment to do your laundry since you hadn’t left your bed in weeks. You had her put it down, worried that if she held it for too long you would forget what he smelled like when he held you.

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2

Lots of narratives have been going around about why Hillary lost. Most are placing the blame directly on the candidate herself, ignoring a few key points:

1. Hillary won the popular vote by 3 million votes. Yes. 3 million. To minimize this or not take it into consideration proves you are bias in your analysis of why Hillary lost. You don’t win the popular vote by 3 million if you are a truly bad candidate (Hillary also won every single debate). And for historical reference, Al Gore only won the popular vote by 500,000. Hillary won it by 3 million. 3 million votes is no small feat. You cannot ignore this fact if you want an un-bias analysis of why Hillary lost the election. The last two Republican Presidents lost the popular vote!

Also – both popular vote winners Al Gore and Hillary Clinton were hurt by progressives (Nader and Bernie) who got too comfortable after 8 years of a Democrat in the White House. Our side seems to shoot itself in the foot after 8 years in power. As we learned yet again – every vote counts, especially in the swing states. Because guess what? You can win the popular vote and still lose the election due to the electoral college. Progressives blew it big time for the second time in 20 years and hurt our popular vote winners Al Gore and Hillary Clinton. A cumulative 3.5 million more votes for the Democrats!

2. In U.S. politics, one party usually has power over the White House for only 8 years. Very rarely does a party hold onto the White House longer than 8 years. The last time was when Bush Senior won after Ronald Reagan, but then he quickly lost re-election to Bill Clinton. Democrat Al Gore couldn’t even win after Clinton left us with a surplus and booming economy. This usually happens because the side that isn’t in power tends to rise up, while the side that occupies the White House gets lazy and complicit. From a historical perspective, America was already headed towards a Republican Administration in 2016. Combine that with the racist backlash to Obama, and Trump exploiting the rise of worldwide racist nationalism, it’s no wonder their base turned out and ours didn’t. Remember – under Obama, the Democrats have lost 900 legislative seats nationwide and most of the Governorships and state legislatures, too (in addition to the White House and U.S. Congress). The backlash to Obama has been strong and was bound to hurt us in 2016. Point is – in American politics, very rarely does the same party occupy the White House for more than two-terms. This especially holds true when you combine that with racism and the rise of nationalism working against the first African American President. Conservatives were out for blood after 8 years of Obama, while our side shot itself in the foot by allowing Bernie to run as a Democrat (Nader all over again).

3. Just as in the United Kingdom (Brexit), there has been a worldwide resurgence in a nationalistic white working-class. Trump exploited this in a way Bernie Sanders never could have. Why? Because nationalism is being used to scapegoat immigrants and minorities. The 2016 election truly was an election about which party was going to turn out their base (whites vs. minorities). That’s why Hillary spent her time trying to convince us of the dangers a Trump Presidency posed to minorities. And if we had voted in levels similar to 2008, our base would have triumphed. But a core part of our base was missing – young voters that showed up for Obama but not Hillary. Why? Bernie fucking Sanders. Most of the “Bernie-or-Bust” voters I knew were young male progressives who puked at the thought of ever voting for Hillary. They even called Bernie a “sell-out” when he half-heartedly campaigned for her. What a shame. Because in the face of Brexit, every vote counted. Remember – Trump only won the swing states by a total of 80,000. How many “Bernie-or-Busters” were in the swing states? Seriously – never underestimate angry white men showing up at the polls (Brexit and Trump). Our side is much harder to turn out. That’s why every vote counted. And yes… I’m looking at you, college students!

4. Comey. The momentum the 3rd debate victory produced was lost after the Comey letter. The 3rd debate was the debate where “Nasty Woman” was coined. The closet thing the Hillary campaign came to naturally produced momentum. And it (luckily) came near the end of the election in the final stretch. Hillary was riding high after the 3rd debate domination – 11% polling lead. Everyone thought she was going to win and Nate Silver gave her over a 90% chance of winning. But then came the Comey letter. 

His letter also came after the release of Trump’s “pussy grabber” tape. The media narrative switched from “pussy grabber” to “FBI re-opens Clinton E-mail Probe.” The headlines became anti-Clinton rather than anti-Trump. And in American culture, media momentum is huge. That’s why they call it an “October Surprise.” Late deciding voters heavily broke for Trump due to the Comey letter and that’s what made the difference. 

Hillary ordered a complete analysis of the election and the Comey letter was the only new variable from her 11-point polling bump after the 3rd debate to election day. “Pussy grabber” was old news. “E-mails” became front and center yet again. This is why there is currently an independent review of Comey’s actions as we speak. Official protocol says to never release anything about a case if it may sway an election. Why? Because it might turn out to be false. Just like what happened. Comey ultimately retracted the letter in the final hours of the election, but the damage had already been done. Hillary was finished. Her 11-point debate lead – gone. That’s why there is currently an official investigation into Comey breaking official protocol and swaying the election in Trump’s favor. Once this investigation is complete, I’m sure you’ll be hearing from the Clintons.

5. Sexism. The 2016 election proved a far more qualified woman can still lose to a far less qualified man. Actually, Hillary was the most qualified person (man or woman) to ever run for the Presidency. Any man with Hillary’s accomplishments and qualifications never would have lost. It wouldn’t have even been close. Period.

6. Russian interference. We’ll never know exactly how much Russia swayed the election, but the influx of “fake news” targeting Hillary Clinton definitely had an impact on her public perception, especially in regards to her “trustworthiness.” Putin had a vendetta against Hillary because he held her responsible for the protests he faced after his re-election. He also thought Hillary would be far more aggressive and effective than Obama. He’d rather have a puppet and buffoon as President (Trump) than the brilliant Hillary Rodham Clinton.

7. The media. Hillary’s e-mails were made to seem just as bad as the millions of horrific things Trump did over the course of his 4-times bankrupt career. The false equivalence was mind-boggling. In the pursuit of trying to appear “un-bias” by saying both sides were equally corrupt, they ended up being bias against Hillary and helping Trump win the Presidency. The actual un-bias viewpoint is that nothing Hillary has done is anywhere near the level of deplorable things Trump has done. But the media made Hillary seem just as bad as Trump in order to give the impression that they were being “objective.” 

I truly hope the media did some soul-searching after the 2016 election. Tearing down Hillary and glorifying Trump – giving rise to his “cult-of-personality” has really bitten you in the ass, hasn’t it? Now you have at minimum 4 years of covering a manipulative propaganda artist con-man who just likes to play head games. Have fun!!

8. Republican witch-hunts. Republicans abused their power, which led to 8 separate Benghazi investigations. More investigations than Pearl Harbor, the JFK assassination, and 9/11. Yet Hillary was never found of any wrongdoing and came out victorious after her triumphant 11-hour Benghazi testimony. Unfortunately, after so many fake “scandals,” Hillary’s image had been damaged. Which was the entire point of these fake scandals – even if Hillary isn’t guilty, we can still accuse her of corruption and plant seeds of doubt. But rather than viewing the Republicans as the corrupt ones, manufacturing fake Clinton scandals and wasting tax-payer money, many Americans drank the Clinton hate kool-aid (even progressives).

All of these factors led to the “perfect storm.” Which is why we needed every single vote in every single state. Yet Hillary still managed to win the popular vote by 3 million despite Russian interference, Bernie mania, multiple witch-hunts by Republicans, 11-hour Benghazi testimony, sexism, a media hell bent on false equivalency, a rise in worldwide racist nationalism, one party historically only occupying the White House for 8 years, and the devastating Comey letter. 

3 million more votes. Despite it all. A majority of Americans agree with our vision and our values. By the millions. And that’s not even taking into consideration ID laws and voter suppression of minorities, which greatly decreased the amount we won by.

“But, you know, then at the end, we had the Russians and the FBI deal. She couldn’t prevail against that. She did everything else and still won by 2.8 million votes.

The finest vote counter in America is Nate Silver. He told you what costed the election.” ~President Bill Clinton

A political icon and legend. Was going for round 3 in the White House. And we all know she ran it the first two times.

Watch Me Babygirl [pt.9]

Summary: Jungkook is your brother’s annoying best friend. You can’t stand him but he just can’t resist teasing you. How far will he actually go?

Warnings: language, light smut

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3] [pt.4] [pt.5] [pt.6] [pt.7] [previous part]


“My mom wants me to become more involved at the school,” you sighed, walking with Taehyung to P.E.

The last few days your mom had been hinting that she wanted you to become involved, “like your brother”. You’d done your best to act clueless in order to get her to drop the subject, but she’d finally confronted you and outright told you that she wanted you to become more involved.

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Suga Daddy: Part 4

Suga Daddy: Part 4

Word count: 9k

Genre: smut, angst

So this chapter really means a lot to me so I hope you like it. Let me know if you want. Enjoy! Also, I didn’t have enough time to edit this how I wanted to. Sorry about the mistakes.

parts: one | two | three 




The week had gone by super quickly, much to your dismay. You had hoped for a slow week. You had tried to focus on school and your dance classes. Yugyeom had been a great distraction but sadly he wasn’t over today and neither was Yoongi. You had been so use to him spending the night that when he slept over last night you were shocked not to find him in bed with you. The truth was he had been over every night this week. It was weird to you, he’d hadn’t come over everyday since the beginning. One night you didn’t even have sex, you just cuddled on the couch and made out.

Then again he would barely talk to you. He’d come over and give you some of the best sex, fall asleep holding you and then would be gone once you woke up. You didn’t think much of it though because that’s something you were used to. What you were freaking out about was him texting you everyday about your parents.

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Make You Mine

I’ve kind of had a craving for angry, jealous Dean lately… 

Gator @salvachester - this one’s for you <3

You climb out of the back seat, tugging your skirt down self-consciously. Dean is staring at your legs, his jaw clenched, and even Sam swallows hard, then turns away.

“Does it look that bad?” you ask, worried for a moment that maybe you’re not dressed appropriately to be an FBI agent.

Sam clears his throat, and Dean growls out, “You look fine.”

You straighten your jacket, lift your chin, and get into the head space you need, a little condescending, a little no-nonsense, like you’re used to getting what you ask for. Dean gives you one more glance and, looking like he’d like to eat someone, leads the way into the police station.

You and Sam trail Dean to the front desk, standing a step behind and flashing your badges dutifully when the officer on duty asks if he can help you. “What can we do for the FBI?” he asks, just a touch of snark behind his words, and you can almost feel Dean’s thunderous frown. He’s been on edge for days, and this day seems to be a bad one. His temper has been unpredictable, his level of patience almost zero, and you cringe a little internally at what his reaction might be.

“Is your superior officer around? Maybe the big boys should talk,” he snaps, and the officer behind the desk stands up, all six feet and at least four inches of him, maybe even a little taller than Sam.

“Listen, Agent Hetfield. We don’t take kindly to feds coming in and throwing their weight around. If we can help, fine. But don’t go making demands like we owe you. We work for a living around here, too.”

You can almost feel Dean’s chest swelling, his temper ready to blow, and you step forward, one hand on his arm as you push your way in front of him. “Sorry, Officer – Thomas, is it? Please forgive my partner, this case has him a little wired.” You turn to look up at Dean, your lips tight as you speak to him in a pleasant voice, aware that he will hear the anger beneath. “Agent Hetfield, Agent Hammett, why don’t you go get that coffee we were talking about? I’ll get what we need here and meet you outside.” You narrow your eyes at him, the threat behind them clear.

“Yeah. Why don’t we just do that,” he grinds out, giving a curt nod to the officer and turning on his heel to stalk to the door, flinging it open without a pause. Sam smiles politely, then turns to follow him.

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Perfect Ten

Summary:  Just like his freckles and bowlegs, Dean’s slight pudge has always been a part of himself that he’s never felt completely comfortable with.  After a few miserable days of unsuccessful dieting and choking down rabbit food, Cas reminds him exactly how beautiful he is.   


“You’re getting kinda chubby!”  

Charlie makes this remark lightly, offhandedly, as she passes by Dean on the way to breakfast that morning:  Dean had been stretching his arms overhead in a yawn so that his cotton shirt rode up over his stomach, which Charlie takes the opportunity to poke.

Startled, he looks down just in time to see the disconcerting way in which her fingertip sort of smushes into the soft, freckly flesh.  

Dean halts in his tracks, blinking comprehensively.  “Wait, what?”  is all he can think to say.

Charlie, who’d been nonchalantly continuing on her way down the hall, turns to look at him.  “Well, you don’t have to sound so offended about it,” she laughs.  “I didn’t mean it in a bad way or anything!”

Dean folds his arms defensively.  “Then what did you mean, Charles?”

“First of all, I answer only to Charlie, Ms. Bradbury, or the Illustrious Queen of Moondoor.  Next, I just meant you put on a couple pounds.  Maybe getting a bit of a tummy.  It’s no big deal.”

Dean looks comprehensively down at his stomach.  Now that he thinks about it, he has been eating more these days – he’s been going through sort of a “nesting period” during his relationship with Cas:  lots of baking pies, burgers, etc.  He didn’t think it was noticeable.  

Taking note of the gravity of his expression, Charlie laughs, punching him lightly in the shoulder.  “You don’t have to look so glum about it!  It’s cute.”

Dean glowers at her, tugging self consciously at his t-shirt.  “M’not cute,” he mutters grouchily.  “I’m a warrior.

Charlie laughs again.  “Alright, warrior.  Hurry up and take care of your morning breath – Kevin’s making waffles again!”

With that, Charlie skips off down the hall, leaving Dean to steep in his juices.  He lets Charlie laugh it off, of course – he knows she didn’t mean any harm – but the fact is, Dean’s always known he’s had a little bit of pudge around his midsection, and he’s always been the slightest bit insecure about it.  Just like his freckles and bowlegs, it’s one of the things about himself that he’s never particularly liked.  

His one solace was convincing himself that these features weren’t as noticeable to everyone else as they are to him.  Now, that seems to have changed.  

Dean pulls up the rim of his shirt, noting sourly the way in which his pudge protrudes slightly over the waistband of his pajama pants.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel so hungry anymore.

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Alternate Ways to End Combat in an RPG

Hello, readers! At the moment, I’m super busy prepping a Lovecraft Legacies LARP event, but I didn’t want to fail to offer some DMing advice this week. So I grabbed an old article I wrote for the website GeeksDreamGirl.com. I wrote it with 4E in mind, but it’s lessons translate to any game. Enjoy!

Combat is an integral part of many RPGs. In some, it’s a necessary evil. In others, like D&D, it’s an exciting part of the game. Sometimes, the PCs are facing truly evil and villainous foes that need to be wiped from the face of your campaign world. Sometimes, however, you want to have a battle end in something other than a complete massacre of one side or another. What if the PCs are facing honorable foes who’ve been duped into fighting them? Or what if they’re facing foes who vastly out-number or out-power them? Is a slaughter the only answer? Obviously, the
answer can and should be no.

Here then are five ways to end a fight before the battlefield is drenched in the blood of one side or another. You can use these ways to keep a battle short, or to offer an alternative to simple one-
sided destruction.

A Fight to First Blood

If the PCs are facing honorable foes, or are fighting in a tournament, they may choose to fight to “first blood”, and I’m not referencing any cheesy 80s action films. In 4E D&D, this is an easy
concept: have the players and NPCs agree to fight until someone hits their Bloodied value, and use this as the threshold of when someone finally draws blood on the other.

This has a lot of basis in reality. Knights at tournament wanted to show their prowess at real battle, and first blood was a way to show one’s skill, but to avoid seriously injuring one’s foe. Likewise, a duel that was serious but didn’t need to be to the death would sometimes be fought to first blood. This served as a grim reminder to the wounded – I bloodied you once. Next time might be more fatal.

Holding Out Like a Hero

This is a particular favorite of mine. In it, the PCs aren’t necessarily planning on winning a fight, but only of surviving and holding off foes until a set goal is reached. This is particularly effective for when the king can get to safety if his loyal knights can last ten rounds of combat, or if a wizard needs them to hold until he gets six successes on Arcana checks. Combined with Skill Challenges, this can make for a memorable sequence. Skeletons will keep pouring out of the crypt until the cleric successfully re-consecrates it as a skill challenge of minor actions, or the room will keep filling with water that’s inhabited with shrieking eels until the rogue resets the trap mechanism. It’s up to the party to hold off the skeletons, eels, or what have you.

You can use this device to simulate a scene like Helm’s Deep. The PCs have to hold out a certain number of rounds until the reinforcements arrive. Especially in combination with an ever-increasing number of minions, this can give the proper feeling of literally holding off an army.

Cutting Off the Head

The orcish army feels unbeatable until their leader, Gruzhgarn, is slain. When the necromancer is killed, the undead crumble back to lifeless husks. The wolves will flee in dismay if their alpha is killed. If you make one or more of the enemies the linchpin holding the rest of the monsters together, then you can give the PCs a goal other than simply slaying every monster on the battlefield. Once the leader-type monster goes down, the rest will surrender, flee, return to their home plane, etc. I especially like the feeling of “kill the wizard and his minions will return to the Elemental Plane.” It’s something that makes a logical sort of story sense, and it gives an out to the players.

A variation on this is “this monster is invulnerable until condition X is met.” In my current campaign, a great example was Auntie Mengybone, whom I’ve mentioned in other columns. She was harnessing the life-force of a captive Arch Fey to constantly heal herself, making her effectively invulnerable. Several of the PCs with Controller-type powers kept her busy and away from the other PCs who were freeing the Arch Fey through a skill challenge. Once the Arch Fey was released, she immediately went into retreat mode, leaving her minions to fight the PCs. She didn’t escape, but, if she had, she would’ve likely become a recurring villain in the campaign.

Live to Fight Another Day

There’s an adage that most PCs would rather have their character killed than have them captured. I’m not sure what the psychology around this is, but I agree that it’s true. That doesn’t mean, however, that you have to have your monsters behave the same way.

I befuddled my players in my Eberron campaign by having the changeling villain they’d been fighting step back, go defensive, and offer to surrender, but only if the Lawful Good character
promised him mercy. The party was immediately suspicious, but they reluctantly agreed. This let me draw a fight that was already a foregone conclusion to a quick close and keep a valuable NPC
alive for a future sequence. And when the PCs found out later that he’d escaped the prisons of their patrons, they cursed his name – darned, tricksy changelings!

The other trick is to have monsters flee. They might be running for reinforcements, or they might be running for their lives, but sometimes monsters, especially intelligent ones, might choose to abandon a fight that they’re clearly losing. Earlier editions of D&D had complex Morale check systems to help a DM determine whether or not a monster would fight on or drop their weapons, but, nowadays, story is the arbiter of such a decision.

Stop. Just Stop.

I would never suggest that you should declare a fight against the PCs and tell them they’re all dead. But good news! Your monsters don’t have any ego beyond that which you invest in them.

If you’re down to two half-dead orcs, everything else is dead, and the PCs are still in excellent shape, you can call that fight. Sure, the orcs might do a little more damage, but is it really necessary to eke every hit point from the player characters that you can? I think not.

Some DMs, and some players, don’t like this approach. They want to know exactly who did what, who killed whom, and noodle the fight down to each hit point. That’s not my style of game play. If it’s getting late, and I have an important plot point to make before game ends, and this fight is slowing me down, I’ll sometimes call a fight once it’s clear how unlikely it is that the PCs will lose. “Well, the ogre has 15 hit points, and you’re all going to get to attack before he does. Unless you really want to know who kills the ogre specifically, let’s call it. Someone describe for me how the ogre dies.” My players were baffled the first time I did this, but they’ve
come to appreciate it.

In Closing

Not every fight has to be fought to the last HP. Sometimes, there are reasons why a fight should end early, and sometimes it’s just more convenient to move things along rather than dither down to the bitter end. Using this tool, you can make battles more about the story and excitement and less about drudging down to the last hit point.

Drive

Halsey song lyric imagine

wordcount: 2.1k

Summary:  Y/N and Jughead take a long drive out of Riverdale for a road trip and discover their hidden feelings for each other 

Warnings: swearing, slight smut, drinking

‘Swerving on the 405, I can never keep my eyes off this’

We’d been driving for hours, we didn’t even know where we were going anymore, or what were running from. The sudden impulsive decision to get out of town and take a road trip was decided by Jughead. He had been distressed at school lately and said he had a lot of stuff going on in his head, and he needed to get away. 

Me being the good friend I am, and caring a great deal for him, didn’t want him to be alone so I decided to make the offer on taking him away for a while. 

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Imagine being mute and Daryl saving you from Shane's advances

WARNING : MENTIONS OF ASSAULT/ NEAR RAPE EXPERIENCE

(Wooo Daryl :3 and shame on you Shane -_- lol sorry I made Shane an ass but that’s the request XD so hope it is as requested and you all like it :D Gif not mine/found it on google/credit to the original owner.)

From the start of the outbreak, you found yourself being part of a group that had bonded over while stuck in the traffic.

Despite having difficulty communicating with them, as you were born mute, they had welcomed you and had found different ways to talk to you.

Over the time, you had grown close to Daryl, as he would often offer you help with whatever it is that you needed and just felt like he oddly got along with you a lot.

When he first met you, he was clueless about you being mute and simply thought you were quiet and someone who liked to keep to yourself.

He didn’t want to bother you with what might be some rude questions, so he just kept it to himself until one night by the campfire, he finally figured it out.

He notice how he had made you laugh but as no sound would come out, he forgot himself and asked you honestly, only to get an answer from the others around.

~~~~

Since, he felt even more attached to you and would do all sorts of thing to keep you safe. He had even taken the habit of learning sign language from you just to be able to understand you even more.

Although, he would be confused and just straight up be clumsy, it all made you smile to see his efforts and just as him you felt like you wanted to be closer to him.

You had even taught him something you had never had the habit to do for anyone else but your older brother, the sign you had both made up for “I trust you”.

You put your hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat and with your finger simply crossed an x on him and tapped three times for each of the words.

After explaining to him in your way how special it was, he caught onto it’s meaning and teared up with a big smile.

“You’re silly…Trusting me? You really feel that way?”

You let out a smile and nodded at him. Putting your hand to his, you did it one more time, making him grab your wrist to truly understand the meaning.

He pulled your hand away and reached over to do the same.

It didn’t make you feel uncomfortable whatsoever and neither did it him as to you both, it was the meaning behind the gesture that mattered.

“And I trust you as well…Y/N…”

He looked into your eyes after it and suddenly realized how he had been holding your other hand and got embarrassed about it.

You noticed how he changed and simply shook your head at him. It made him ruffle your hair jokingly and say, “Don’t shake your head at me…You get embarrassed too sometimes…I see you…”

As your smile came back, he laughed along with you and you both stayed by the fire for a little while before heading to your tents.

~~~~

As you sat there, smiling, someone else has had his eyes on you for a while. From his tent, Shane had witness everything and seemed to be particularly interested into seeing you being so casual about a man putting his hand to your chest.

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t sexual, he only saw it as an opportunity that he himself could have.

After Rick has introduced himself to all of you, Lori had dumped and pushed him away from her life and it just devastated him. He needed someone for a while and seeing you so comfortable around a man, gave him ideas.

~~~~~

With what had happened at the CDC and to most of your cars, you all traveled along the road to find a better place to keep you safe for the moment.

The weather was hot and the sun was starting to set, making Daryl move out to go get something to eat.

He quietly parted away from all of you and although you would want to follow him, he signaled you that he’d be back soon enough.

You nodded and with that, you were left with the others to help set up the camp. Suddenly, you felt Lori tapping your shoulder and as you turned to her, she kindly signaled you to help find some mushroom for the late dinner.

She explained herself that she had to stay by Carl’s side for the while as he had gotten sick. You nodded, understanding her reason and took the bucket she handed.

~~~~

You walked further away from the camp and carefully searched for whatever was edible, really.

You touched the ground to feel whatever you could in the grass and eventually got on your hands and knees to pick up the goods you found.

Without noticing, you strayed further from the camp, wanting to completely fill up your bucket. You heard some rusting and crackling of leaves here and there but simply didn’t put too much thought into it.

At some point, the noise grew closer and made you turn your head to check around. Nothing. You kept searching for a moment and heard it all again. You felt like leaving but as you turned around, Shane appeared in front of you.

It made you jumped but only served to make him chuckle. Taking a few deep breaths, you managed to “ask” him, as to what he is doing here.

He simply shrugged and titled his head to the side as it still made him laugh to see you. You were wearing shorts, your shirt inside your flannel was tight enough to give him an idea of your body and the fact that you were mute, made it perfect for what he had thought of doing to you.

Far away, from any prying eye, he knew he could finally make you his and probably even hurt Lori while at it.

With you signalling him your question, he decided to not understand anymore and just hinted at you as to what will come to you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N…I don’t get what you mean…”

He got closer as he said those words and made you back away from him. You knew something was off and strange about him and couldn’t let yourself down.

You responded in a more aggressive way and completely forgot about the bucket, as you let it drop to the ground, in order to use both your hands.

He kept walking towards you and claiming that he really didn’t understand your meaning. You shook your head at him and kept trying to push him away with your “words”, only to suddenly feel yourself being grabbed by the arms.

He hold you closely to him and you knew of his intentions. You panicked and tried to fight him off but it came to no use as he pinned you down to the ground.

He gripped your wrists to have more control over you and with a cocky smile, he said “Don’t fight it…I saw you with Daryl the other night…You like being touched by men, don’t you…”

He proceeded to slide his hand down your chest and instantly you tried to get him away from you.

You moved your arms as much as you could but nothing would seem to make him stop. Quite the opposite, he took it as a sign of to start kissing your neck thinking that it’ll calm you down.

You hated each instant of it and tried to butt your head against his but swiftly he’d move to the other side of your neck. His grip on you tighten when you would try to kick him off and and his lips would only suck on you harder.

You wanted to scream out but nothing but your faint strangled groan would come out. You heard him chuckle and he just had to taunt you.

“Poor you, Y/N…No one can hear you here…You’re stuck here with me…And after this…you’ll just want to be mine…”

He kept at it and you slowly felt yourself growing tired from the fight you put out and your grunts only made you breathless.

You felt his finger slide to your pants and into your panties, you were losing hope and thought of how much of a mistake you made, going so far off the tracks.

You thought as to what the others might say and think and knew he had you in the palm of his hand. With Rick being his friend and how close the others were, you didn’t think anyone would believe your side of the story and that made you tear up.

~~~~

You thought it over and over and tried to forget as to what was happening. Closing your eyes, you denied it until suddenly you heard some leaves rustling again and a familiar and angry voice behind Shane.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

In that instant, you felt Shane being lifted up and saw him being pushed to the ground.

It was Daryl and you couldn’t be any happier to see him. Daryl had straddled Shane and with no hesitation he started to punch him.

He didn’t had to witness all of it to know in his heart you wouldn’t have ever agreed to this. It angered him to see you being taken advantage that way and he couldn’t believe it would’ve been someone in the group.

He started to yell at him in anger and didn’t even wait for any explanation to keep going. Blood spewed out onto him but it didn’t matter to him.

He wanted to protect you and make sure that this kind of behavior never ever happens again.

“You think you can just take advantage of her like that? What the fuck is wrong with you!Don’t! You! Ever! Fucking! Touch! Her! Again! You fucking piece of shit! Do you understand!”

He yelled and kept striking him, making sure his message was understood. He didn’t feel his cuts stinging him so much he cared more to make you feel safe.

You closed your flannel to cover yourself and backed away from him. You didn’t want to stop him at all and just let Daryl take care of it.

Relief, was the only thing you felt to see him and couldn’t had hope for better.

Finally, after Shane had passed out from all of the pain, Daryl stopped. He took some deep breaths and tried to wipe the blood away from his face, only to actually smear it all over with his hand.

He looked for you with his eyes and just felt the need to go comfort you in that moment. He knew what it felt to be that scared, to think that you’re alone in the world and no one could hear you.

He got up and opened his arms as he slowly made his way to you.

“Y/N…you’re alright? Are you okay?”

You could hear and see the concern he had for you and it just made you weak. You couldn’t deny that you weren’t alright and just shook your head.

He finally got close enough to pull you in a tight embrace and you held onto his neck and shoulders.

You felt him stroke your hair and he reassured you that it’ll be okay.

“It’s alright…I’m here…Nothing’s gonna happen again…I promise…Okay…I promise…”

He pulled away to check for any injury to you and as he did, you felt your heart skip a beat and finally smiled at him.

It slightly unnerved him to see you that way and just asked you, “Why are you smiling…”

You wiped your tear away and shaking your head, you got shy from his question. You put your hand to his chest and slowly crossed on his heart before pointing onto him three times.

He understood your meaning and instantly teared up and smiled. He put his hand over yours and made it lay flat onto his chest making you fell his heart before nodding at you that he understands you.

He picked you up on your feet and just walked you back to camp, saying “Then you’ll have to trust me that from now on…I’m always going to take care of you…no more of this…”

Everything Has Changed | Jughead Jones

Originally posted by alwayschach-sprouseblog


Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: After six years away from Riverdale, you head back to live with your grandparents. The only thing on your mind is your old best friend Jughead Jones.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1570

A/N: BUCKLE YOURSELVES UP, FRIENDS. WE’RE IN FOR A LONG ONE. Well, maybe. We’ll see how it goes. There will definitely be a part two that’s for sure but let me know what you guys think <3

 PART TWO | PART THREE


Riverdale.

The town you grew up in. The town that held so many fond memories. The town that you’d been ripped away from when you were nine years old.

It was still your favourite place even though you’d spent the last six years in Los Angeles. Sure, the big city life was fun but it was nothing compared to the tight knit community of your little friendly town. Even though you’d only been young, you still remembered how everyone said hi when you passed by them or how the local diner always remembered your families order and especially how all the kids made sure nobody was left out. That was how you remembered Riverdale. Full of friendly, happy, kind people.

But, the stories you’d heard from your grandparents who still lived there told a whole different tale. Your friendly little town had changed the moment Jason Blossom had been murdered. Everyone in town was a suspect and the whole dynamic had changed. Riverdale was now surrounded by mystery and secrets which made you scared to go back.

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Potion No. 9

pairing: daveed x reader

requests: could you do Daveed X younger reader, where reader is like 18-20 and they start dating and the reader’s parents get really weirded out over the age difference?

summary: it’s time for daveed to meet reader’s parents. that’s it that’s really all i’ve got.

warnings: swearing, smut, semi-public/public sex, D/s, daddy kink, light bondage, praise kink

word count: 4,320

a/n: title is part of title of a sandra bullock movie but i used it as lyrics from lotus flower bomb by wale, which i recommend u start to play during the sexy time at the end ok. i know it’s barely still valentine’s day but I WROTE THIS all in one day it’s been a wild ride. i wanted to get this up ASAP but i’m messy and wanted to write one more sex scene i’m sorry buds but i hope you enjoy it anyway!!!!!!!!!!


“Are you ready, babe?” You peer into the mirror, adjusting the clasp on your necklace. The small heart-shaped garnet glints in the light and your heart flutters, remembering Daveed gifting it to you just this morning.

“Just a second,” he shouts from his bedroom. “I can’t get this fucking tie on straight!”

You snicker, tucking your lipstick into your small clutch. “Come out here and I’ll do it for you.”

Daveed grunts and shuffles out into the living room with his suit jacket draped over one arm and a sour look on his face.

“Why are you pouting?” You ask, fingers deftly untying the crooked knot and starting over again.

“I’m too old to not know how to tie my own tie,” he huffs, shoving one hand into the pockets of his dress pants.

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Dog Days Are Over

Summary: You were already having a bad day, and then in walks Mr. Perfect and his best friend’s puppy. Oh, and he needs you to hurry because he’s got a blind date tonight, and he’s really nervous.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,993

Author’s Note: Do you know how long this has been in my drafts? Anyways, here’s more fluff. Sorry I’ve been the Ebeneezer Scrooge of fluff, but I can’t help it that I’m a cynical, angsty bitch who likes to make people suffer.

Originally posted by thespoilerwitchblog

There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.

Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always! When the customer cries, you cry. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because Mr. Twinkles sheds a lot! Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell likes to pee on people.

Even though you knew these rules by heart, and you followed them every single day of your work-life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara; so when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried, and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing.

Today just wasn’t your day.

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