another note from the extended editions: what is the Aragorn/Eowyn dynamic? watching the theatrical cut it always seemed like a painfully unrequited crush. the extended edition scenes though... either I am crazy or or he DOES like her

could you write something about cardan maybe tricking jude into leaving her queenly duties just so he could spend time with her alone? if it's really fluffy i would adore that

Cardan’s No Good, Very Bad Idea

could you write something about cardan maybe tricking jude into leaving her queenly duties just so he could spend time with her alone? if it's really fluffy i would adore that

Jude taps a long nail across the long mahogany table in front of her. She looks over the lengthy agenda for today’s meeting. The scroll seems to be never ending, and Jude has a feeling she will be trapped here until the wee hours of the night, especially if they wait any longer to begin. She’s been worked to the bone, recently. And Jude is exhausted. She doesn’t know if she has the stamina for this tonight.

Randalin sighs, staring at the double doors on the opposite side of the room, as if willing them to open. But, they remain shut, its gold filigree swirling across the front to create a perfect replica of the Greenbriar crest, unbroken.

“I suppose we should begin,” Randalin says, addressing the rest of the Living Council, though the seat next to Jude remains conspicuously unoccupied.

“I suppose…”

Jude has sat through many of these councils by herself. Since her coronation, the High King has been scarce during political meetings. He’d much rather be drinking in the basement, learning how to be a shadow, or sparring with his cantankerous wife. The latter usually happens immediately after the Living Council wraps.

Today, Jude is impatient and weary. She woke early to an empty bed and a note from Cardan that he was going on “an adventure” and would return for Council. A faerie loophole, Jude laughs to herself. Apparently he can lie in writing.

Just as Randalin is about to begin his lengthy agenda, the doors swing open, the crest splitting apart in two. The loud crack makes the room jump, almost as much as the appearance of The Bomb, looking distraught and disheveled. Her white hair falls into her panicked eyes haphazardly, her wings tittering, agitated, behind her.

Jude stands immediately.

“Her Majesty.” The Bomb pants, out of breath, and Jude can scarcely breathe as she continues. “You must come at once. It’s the King.”

Jude is out the door before the end of the sentence is complete. The Bomb takes Jude’s hand in hers as they rush through the halls.

“Where is he?” Jude asks. “What happened?”

“We couldn’t move him.” The Bomb slows and looks at Jude, the weight of her words evident in her serious eyes. “He asked for you.”

Jude’s throat tightens as she nods and picks up the pace.

The Bomb leads Jude out of the palace, out the back towards the stables where her horse is already saddled and ready to go.

“He’s on the western shore of Insmire Lake,” The Bomb explains.

Jude hoists herself onto the horse and looks down, confused and upset. “You’re not coming?”

The Bomb shakes her head. “We’ve already said our goodbyes. You two need your privacy.”

Jude nods and digs her heels into the horse, spurring him forward, as fast as she can. She races across the palace grounds, needing to go faster and faster. Lush green plants angle themselves as she passes by, the wind curling itself around them, leading the way to where her king lies. If only she could see them in the dark. The stars seem to grow brighter at her desire to see clearer, clouds parting to reveal a dark yellow moon.

She spots him, sprawled on his side, exactly where The Bomb said he’d be. He is completely still and silent, and Jude doesn’t even bother tying the horse up as she dismounts and rushes to his side.

“Cardan,” she pleads. “Cardan.” Tears well in the corners of her eyes as she strokes his shoulder. “Cardan, please,” she chokes back a sob.

Cardan stretches his arms above his head and a sly smirk curls his lips upward as he flutters his dark eyes open. “I really thought you’d be here faster with the threat of your husband in mortal danger.” He pushes himself up on his elbows and finally takes a look at his wife. “Am I truly so meaningless to you, my Queen?”

Jude’s brown eyes darken as she examines him. She realizes he’s in perfectly fine form, and shoves him back down onto the ground, pinning his hips with her straddled thighs and her hand dangerously clasped around his throat. Her glare is like two piercing daggers, and he can’t stop the rumble of laughter that starts in his chest.

“Are you serious?!” she gasps. “I swear, Cardan Greenbriar, if you ever do anything like that again, I will murder you my gods damned self,” she hisses. “I thought…” She swipes at the stray tear that’s betrayed her and rolled down her cheek. “I thought…” She repeats herself, and Cardan’s devilish eyes turn worried.

He places his hand atop hers, stroking her fingers so they release their grasp on his neck, and twines with his fingers instead. He places their joined hands above his head, and she leans over him, her heart still racing with the remnants of panic.

“Please forgive me, my darling,” he coos, his voice holding none of the mirth from mere seconds before. “I’d seen the council agenda and thought I was saving you. I know you’ve been exhausted. I just wanted to treat you. I didn’t think…”

He sits up, still keeping Jude in his lap, cradling her soundly against him. She presses her ear against his chest, letting the thrum of his heart center her. He’s alive and well. Just an idiot.

“I planned us a picnic.”

It’s only then that Jude realizes they’re spread on a large and soft blanket. A host of fireflies hover around the tree they’re perched under, acting as their own personal twinkle lights, which reveal an elaborate feast. Toast with soft cheese and honey. Real mortal strawberries dipped in dark chocolate. Smoked meats and assorted nuts. And wine. So much wine.

“I thought you could use a night off,” he whispers into her ear as he rubs her back, and finally her heartbeat starts to slow.

She looks up at him, her pink lips pursed in contemplation. “I hate you.”

He grins, knowing she’s already forgiven him for his clumsy way of extracting her from her queenly duties. “Shall I feed you? You must be famished.”

Jude frowns. “I’m not a child, Cardan. I can feed myself.”

But Cardan ignores her and lifts a strawberry to her lips. They part slightly as she nibbles away the tip of chocolate and then takes a bite of the ripe juicy fruit.

“Mmm,” she hums as she chews. It’s been so long since she’s had a strawberry. Cardan swipes the berry back and forth across her lips, staining them red.  

He tilts her head up and licks the sweetness from her lips. She opens to him, and lets his tongue explore her mouth, curling around hers softly, until she’s putty in his hands. Their tongues move against each other in languid strokes as Cardan’s hand moves into Jude’s hair, softly caressing the back of her neck with his thumb.

As Jude pulls away to gasp for air, Cardan plops the rest of the strawberry in his own mouth, and then can’t resist leaning down and kissing Jude once, twice more.

They take turns feeding each other and taking sips of wine from the same cup, until they’re both sated. Only then does Jude stretch out on the blanket, curling into Cardan’s side. She kisses the top of his chest, which is exposed in his unlaced shirt.

“Okay, maybe I did need this,” she admits, and Cardan beams at her. A night, just the two of them, with no pressure and no one to accidentally interrupt and no pressing matters to attend to… it’s pretty much perfection.

“A husband always knows,” he chuckles, running his finger down her arm. She shivers under his touch, goosebumps raising like little pin pricks under his hand.

“Are you cold?” he asks, worried, and Jude shakes her head. She looks around the darkened lake.

“Are we really alone?” she asks, and Cardan’s smile curls into something far more salacious as he grasps her waist and pulls him astride his lap.

“Take whatever you want, my dearest.” His hands rest under his head, goading her into action. And so she does. Over and over, well into the night. And when they head back to the castle, locked like intertwining puzzle pieces galloping and racing against the rising sun, Cardan reminds himself to plan this again for next month. Only maybe he’ll tell her before time.

~*~*~*~*~

tags: 

@hizqueen4life @wordsafterhours @cursebreaker29@x3hopeless-dreamer @sarahjmaasslave @thewickedkings @aesthetics-11 @thewayshedreamed@studyforthestars99 @feed-the-madness01 @brit-alltoowell @gabs-2002 @m-like-magic @sophiekarim @the-third-me @babycardan @justfangirling @isardinesinacanblog @youknowpurple @snusbandxknifewife @youknowpurple @cosmosstarstudio @wannawriteyouabook @aneurwin @bookieworm @bamchickawowow @taco-taco-belle 

Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 47

After a long day of therapy with only breaks to use the bathroom or eat and a break before lunch to work out on a cycling machine, Angel finally was allowed to go to bed.

Angel had spent the whole day pretending to watch porn.  Under ordinary circumstances, it would have been considered a good day, but since Angel had spent the whole day thinking, he was relieved to finally get to rest his brain.

Of course, Doctor Red was there to make sure Angel complied to all his rules, including what he had to wear to bed.

Just as before, Angel complied to all the rules.  Once he had brushed his teeth, dressed in his white undershirt and gray boxers, taken a sleeping pill, and used the bathroom a final time, Angel let the gargoyle demon to strap him to his bed, cover him with heavy blankets to keep him warm in the cold room, and pull up a stool next to his bed so that he could brainwash him with a final bedtime story.

Angel felt exhausted and beyond humiliated.  All day and all evening, Doctor Red had been infantilizing him in every way imaginable as a “way to make up for the attention his father never gave him.”

The spider demon had complied the best he could, but the effort it took for him to hold his tongue and keep a straight face while he planned was draining, even with the medicine inside him to keep him calm.

It was Angel could do to keep a straight face while Doctor Red read him his disturbing anti-gay propaganda.

“And the gay witch burned at the stake and all her victims lived happily ever after,” Dr. Red read, before dramatically closing his book.  “The End!”

Angel let out pretend moan of pain to gain the doctor’s sympathy.

“Oh, Anthony, what’s the matter?  Why so blue?” Dr. Red said, gently rubbing his stony fingers through Angel’s hair.  “You won’t be burned at the stake.  You’re going to be straight in no time.  You’ll see.”

Angel merely replied with another fake moan.

“Just have faith, my good boy,” Dr. Red replied just as he looked down at his watch.  “Oh, it’s getting late.  It’s almost 8:30.  It’s time for me to eat dinner with your father and time for you to go to sleep.”

The gargoyle smiled, ruffling Angel’s hair a final time before picking up his stool and carrying it out of the room.

Angel remained still and expertly maintained his catatonic expression.

“Alright, Anthony,” Dr. Red said as he pulled the blankets more evenly over Angel’s restrained body.  “Your sleeping pill should take effect in an hour.  Sleep tight.  I’ll be back for you in the morning…”

Kiss.

Dr. Red kissed Angel on his forehead.  It felt like he was a toddler getting tucked into bed.

Angel was so surprised he almost lost his composure, but the gargoyle made his way back to the door and turned out the light without missing a beat.

“Goodnight, Anthony,” Dr. Red said softly with his ruby eyes sparkling to reflect the light outside the room.  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, doctor,” Angel replied as emotionlessly as he could muster.

The good doctor shut the bedroom door, made his way up the stone stairs, and exited the basement.

No sooner had Dr. Red left the basement than did Angel unleash his third pair of arms and vigorously wipe the kiss away.

Angel sighed and laid back on the bed, basking in the irony.  He was rejecting kisses from men.  Maybe he was becoming straight after all.

Angel breathed another deep sigh and settled back under his covers to enjoy a long night of sleep.

He relaxed that way for a few minutes until the air conditioner shut off.

Then Angel heard a familiar voice echoing through the vent, “You call this shit food?!  Why don’t ya let me outta here so I can really give ya something to feast on…Oh, yeah?!  If ya fuckin’ hurt Angel, I’m gonna come after ya after I finish off Sir Pentious tomorrow!”

Angel knew that sassy voice anywhere.

“Cherri!” Angel practically screamed.

In less than a minute, Angel loosened all his straps and ran over to the vent grating.

“Cherri!” Angel called through the vent with a smile of relief.  “Cherri, are you there?!”

“Angie?!” Cherri asked from the other side of the vent.  “Angie, is that you?!”

“Yeah,” Angel said with a sigh of relief.  “Thank God!  I thought they would have sent ya back to Sir Pentious already.”

“That ain’t happenin’ till tomorrow,” Cherri replied.  “I’ve been here since last night.  But never mind me, how are you?!  Are you okay?!  I thought I heard ya screamin’ earlier.  What have they done to ya?”

“They gave me electroshock therapy earlier when I was putting up a fight, but besides that, not too much,” Angel said with a slight chuckle.  “They gave me drugs and made me watch porn after that.  Then, after he strapped me into bed, Doctor Red read me a bizarre homophobic bedtime story.  They’re doing everything they can to turn me straight.

“Holy fuck, Angel,” Cherri replied anxiously.  “How can you be so calm about this?  They’re really tryin’ to mess you up.”

“Blame the anti-anxiety medication Doctor Red made me take,” Angel replied.  “What has been happening with you?  My Dad and brother told me what happened between you guys, Charlie, Alastor, and them, but they wouldn’t tell me what happened after that.”  

“After your Dad dropped off Alastor and Vaggie at his mansion, he drove to Molly’s apartment and forced her out of the car.  She was furious.  The poor thing tried to chase down the car, but your Dad drove like a bat out of hell and lost her pretty easily,” Cherri explained.  “I would have helped, but I was restrained with a straitjacket and your unconscious body…”

“Sorry about that,” Angel interrupted.

“No problem,” Cherri replied before continuing.  “Your family brought me here, removed the straitjacket, and shoved me in this stupid room with its stupid bombproof doors, windows, and walls.  They’ve kept me here all day and have only entered the room to give me plates of food and water bottles at gunpoint.  Apparently, Sir Pentious isn’t going to be ready for me until tomorrow.”

“Goddammit, Cherri,” Angel said with angry tears at the corner of his eyes.  “I’m so sorry.”

“It ain’t your fault, Angie,” Cherri said sarcastically.  “Besides keeping me locked in an empty guest room with only a mattress on the floor and giving me plates of food and water bottles at gunpoint, they’ve been pretty nice to me.  Except for your brother.  He offered me freedom in exchange for certain favors.”

Angel busted out laughing and replied, “My libido-less brother tried to get you to sleep with him?!”

“I swear to God.  I’m being completely serious, Angie,” Cherri said with a chuckle.  “After they tossed me in here, your brother showed up around an hour later wearing heavy cologne and holding a bottle of champagne and asked me if I’d like to spend some time with him in exchange for freedom…”

“And?” Angel asked curiously.

“I threw a smoke bomb in his face,” Cherri said with a proud smirk in her voice.  “That got him out of my hair really quick.”

Angel chuckled out loud and said, “That little shit.  I’m so sorry, Cher.”

“Don’t be, dude,” Cherri said reassuringly.  “This room ain’t all bad.  It has a bathroom with magazines in it.  I got to have a bath and wash my underwear and sock.  Your Dad said this was a guest room they had renovated and hadn’t moved the furniture into yet, but that is bullshit.  What kind of guestroom has bombproof walls, windows, and doors?”

“You’d be surprised with our line of work,” Angel replied.  “But besides that, they’ve been treating you well?”

“Yeah, but never mind about me, Angie,” Cherri said, her tone shifting back to serious.  “What about you?  They’ve been trying to brainwash you all day to turn you straight!  Jesus, man, that is really fucked up!”

“Yep, my therapist Doctor Red is a real piece of work, too,” Angel said.  “God sent him to Hell for for doing this shit to other people and he thinks it was because he failed to convert anyone.  He's gullible as hell though.”

“What do ya mean by that?” Cherri asked.

“Let me put it this way,” Angel explained.  “Doctor Red thinks he can fix me, and I’m just playing him into my hands.”

“I gotcha,” Cherri replied.

“The plan was to have a meal with my father and brother before they went to Alastor’s wedding if I behave for the week,” Angel explained.  “Then, when the end of the week comes, I take the opportunity to bust outta here and run to the wedding to save Vaggie.  That was the plan anyway.  Now, I gotta help you.”

“Aw, you don’t need to worry about me, Angie,” Cherri said.  “I can break out of Edgelord’s place easily.”

“Cherri, I ain’t leaving you with Sir Pentious,” Angel protested.

“Angie, you don’t need to worry about…” Cherri tried to protest back.

Angel quickly cut her off, “Cherri, listen to me!  Sir Pentious is an over-ambitious, incompetent simp, but you and I both know he is still strong enough, smart enough, and dangerous enough to be a threat to you and most other demons.  If Sir Pentious didn’t take you right away, that means he is setting up something special to deal with ya.  You couldn’t take him on alone before and I doubt you’d be able to this time.  I am not letting that happen and that’s final.”

Cherri sighed loudly and said, “I know there’s no changing your mind, ya overprotective nut, but what are we gonna do?  Sir Pentious will be here to take me tomorrow, you’re gonna be tortured in the basement, and I’ll have to fight a legion of your family members alone.  I don’t even have a hope of breaking out of here before then with this fucking bombproof room.  God, I should have just said yes to your brother.  If your Dad thought we were a couple, I would have been allowed to stay.”

A lightbulb went off in Angel’s head.

“That’s it,” Angel said.

“What?” Cherri asked.  “What’s your plan, Angie?”

Angel sighed deeply and said, “I know you ain’t gonna like this, but how about we get married?”

“What?!” Cherri asked incredulously.

“Hear me out,” Angel explained.  “If I pretend that I’m madly in love with ya, Dr. Red and my family will be inclined to keep you around to spend time with me to aid in turning me straight.  Then when I’m finally let outta here to spend time with my family, they’ll let you out, too.  Understand?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Cherri said with a smile in her voice.

“All you gotta do is pretend to like me back,” Angel added.  “Do you think you can do that?”

“Ugh,” Cherri groaned.  “You’re like my older brother.  This is gonna be so weird.”

“Cherri…” Angel pleaded.

“Alright,” Cherri agreed with another groan.  “I ain’t no actor like you are, but I’ll try my best.”

“Just follow my lead, baby girl…” Angel said just as a sudden noise got his attention.

It was the sound of the cellar door opening.

“Shit,” Angel muttered to himself.

“Angie, what’s the matter?” Cherri asked in concern.

“The doc’s back, gotta go!” Angel replied in a rush.

Without waiting for a reply, Angel quickly hopped back into his bed and reshackled himself.  He then made his third pair of arms disappear and shut his eyes.

Thankfully, the doctor reached the bottom of the stairs without taking any notice of any noise.

As soon as Dr. Red walked past his door, Angel tossed and turned as loudly as he could while keeping his eyes shut and began calling Cherri’s name.

“Cherri!” Angel called out while dramatically tossing himself to one side of the bed and then the other.  “Cherri!”

Angel heard Doctor Red opening the door to his room and asking himself, “What in the world is this?”

Angel smiled internally and kept up his performance.

“Cherri!  Cherri!  Cherri!  Cherri!  Cherri!”

Angel kept his eyes shut and continued calling Cherri’s name repeatedly while Doctor Red took notes on his note pad.

“Interesting,” Doctor Red muttered in a pleased tone.

Suddenly, another voice called out from the top of the stairs.

“Hey, doc!” Arackniss’s voice called.  “Have you found your notes yet?  The Don’s waiting for ya!  What’s goin’ on?”

“An interesting development,” Dr. Red said gleefully.  “You must come and see!”

Angel didn’t hear a response over his own cries, but he heard his brother walk down the stone stairs.

“What’s going on?” Arackniss asked.  “What’s Anthony doing?”

“He’s calling a woman’s name in his sleep,” Dr. Red said excitedly.  “Please observe.”

The pair were silent while Angel continued pretending to sleep and call Cherri’s name.

Arackniss scoffed and said, “Oh, he’s calling for his gal pal, Cherri Bomb.”

“Cherri Bomb?” Dr. Red asked.  “Oh, right!  The kingpin who tried to help Anthony and Alastor’s fiancée run away.”

At this point, Angel ceased yelling Cherri’s name and pretended to settle back down so that he could listen to the conversation.

“The very one,” Arackniss replied.  “She’s locked in the guest room on the first floor.  We’re selling her to her rival Sir Pentious tomorrow in exchange for weapons.  Anthony hasn’t seen her since that night, so he’s probably just worried about her.”

“Interesting,” Dr. Red said writing more notes in his notebook.  “Have they known each other long?”

“Anthony’s helped her with her turf wars for about 40 years from what I’ve gathered,” Arackniss said.  “From what I’ve heard, they’re pretty close.”

“Interesting,” Dr. Red said.  “40 years is more than long enough to develop a romantic attraction.  It seems that the treatment is working faster than we thought.  My scientific opinion is that Anthony is developing a longing for this demoness.”

Arackniss snickered under his breath and said, “After only a day of therapy?  There’s no way.  She and Anthony are only friends.”

“Don’t be so sure, Arackniss,” Dr. Red said confidently.  “Perhaps your brother and Cherri were only friends, but I’ve found that often in pursuing homosexual relations a patient might be suppressing desire for a heterosexual partner.  Now that we’re pushing away the homosexual attractions, the suppressed attraction to his female friend.  Oh, this is so exciting.  I must get this demoness involved in the therapy.”

“How do ya plan on doing that?” Arackniss asked.

“Gradually, of course,” Dr. Red replied.  “We mustn’t throw Anthony into it.  We must ease him into the heterosexual relationship like a glove.”

“I still don’t know about your theory but easing Anthony into a heterosexual doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Arackniss said, making a puffing noise that let Angel know that he was puffing on a cigarette.  “So, what do we do first?”

“First, we must discuss this with your father,” Dr. Red replied.

Arackniss and Dr. Red then shut the door and headed upstairs.  Angel waited until the moment he heard them both shut the door to the basement before he unstrapped himself and dashed back to the vent.

Angel reached the vent and said, “Cherri?!”

“Angie?!  What happened?!” Cherri replied concernedly.

“Dr. Red came down to retrieve his notes, so I started crying out your name,” Angel said with a smirk.  “He came in to watch me, called my brother down, and now, they’re going to talk to my Dad to get you integrated into my therapy.”

“Hot damn, Angel Dust,” Cherri Bomb said with a proud scoff.  “How’d you pull it off?”

“Thank my 50 years of acting, sugar tits,” Angel bragged.  “Dr. Red is now convinced that you’re my repressed crush.  My brother ain’t convinced, but it doesn’t matter.  Either way, you ain’t going nowhere.”

“Holy shit,” Cherri said.  “You never cease to amaze me, Angel.  I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it, Cher,” Angel said.  “Now, we just gotta act our way out of here.”

“Oh, God,” Cherri said in a sudden panic.

“What’s the matter?” Angel asked.

“Do you think they’ll make us have sex while they watch?” Cherri asked.

Angel paused for a moment and said, “Oh, God.  I didn’t think of that.”

Just then, Cherri heard some hands fiddling with the locks outside her door.

“Angie, they’re here, talk to ya later,” Cherri muttered out in a hurry before she zipped back to her mattress and curled up into a fetal position, pretending to be asleep.

Arackniss pushed open the door, and Dr. Red flicked on the lights and entered the room.

“Doc, what are you doing?  You’re gonna wake her up,” Arackniss protested in a whisper.  “We put her in the bombproof room for a reason, you know.”

Dr. Red ignored Arackniss and continued to look around the room and grimace at the conditions.

“Doc,” Arackniss whispered again.

“I heard you the first time, Arackniss,” Dr. Red said.  “I know very well what Miss Cherri Bomb is capable of.  I do not intend to wake her.  I only intend to make observations...”

Dr. Red took a moment to look at Cherri and continued, “Cherri Bomb is a scrawny little thing, but she is pretty.  She looks cold and hungry though.  You must improve these conditions.  A man who falls in love must be comfortable.”

Arackniss sighed out his cigarette smoke and said, “I suppose we can add some blankets in here.”

“That’s not enough, Arackniss,” Dr. Red chided.  “You need to furnish the room, give her proper beauty products, give her books to read, and clothes to change into.  You need to feed her better as well.  Women are delicate creatures, Arackniss.  You need to take care of them.”

“If you’re sure,” Arackniss replied skeptically.

“Of course, I’m sure,” Dr. Red retorted.  “I used to give courting advice, you know.  Now, we must go speak to your father, but for tonight, fetch Miss Cherri Bomb some blankets to put her in a more pleased mood.”

Arackniss grumbled, “Very well.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Dr. Red asked.  “Hop to it.”

“Hey,” Arackniss protested.  “Watch your tone, doc.  We’re employing you.”

“And your father told you to do whatever I asked,” Dr. Red quipped.  “Now, go.”

Arackniss silently stewed for a moment before he rolled his eyes and left the room to find the blankets.

While Arackniss was looking for the blankets, Dr. Red sat down on the mattress next to Cherri’s sleeping form.  Cherri felt him sit down next to her, but she managed to maintain her relaxed composure.

That was until Dr. Red started stroking her hip.

Cherri made a yelp of dislike and twitched her leg away.

“Oh, dear,” Dr. Red said apologetically taking his hand away.  “I’m so sorry, love.  I didn’t mean to wake you.  Go back to sleep.”

Cherri turned over to the side of the mattress facing away from the doctor and pretended to try to go back to sleep.

Fortunately, just then, Arackniss entered the room with a stack of blankets and a pillow.

“I’m back,” Arackniss announced.

“Good,” Dr. Red replied taking the pillow out of his hands.  “Now, let’s get her more comfortable.”

Dr. Red gently lifted Cherri’s head and placed a pillow under it while Arackniss covered her body with the blankets.

Once the blankets covered her form, Cherri pretended to relax in her pretend sleep.

As Dr. Red shut out the lights and left the room, he said, “She’s a good one.  I can tell.  Miss Cherri Bomb is extremely sensitive to the touch of a man.”

Arackniss groaned jealously as he left the room and shut and locked the door behind him.

Once she was sure they had gone, Cherri zipped back to the vent to explain what had happened to an anxiously waiting Angel.

The pair shared a few laughs and discussed some more details of their plan before they finally parted for the night and went to sleep.

A Pirate’s Life For Me

Chapter Three.  Pirate!BTS Maid!Reader 

Warnings: tiny bit of blood, talk of scamming, little flirting  Summary:  You had always wondered about pirates, about a life outside of these walls. On your 23rd birthday, you would finally find out what both were really like.  Word Count: 2.5k

You had been on the ship for just over a month, and you were settling in fairly well. So far, they had taken you to an island, letting you shop until you dropped.

‘So, I can buy whatever I want?’ You made sure, holding the bag of gold in your hand. Feeling the weight literally and metaphorically. This was a lot of cash you held, more than what the Palace allowed you. Yoongi just nodded, following you into the small, family run stores. You didn’t buy much, realising this gold wasn’t all for you, you all needed this to survive. Picking out a couple items matching the style of what Yoongi already gave you, you were happy enough. Although, the boys made you pick out some dresses, insisting they would work for raids they had planned. You didn’t argue, happily taking the dresses, the soft silk and pretty cottons making you forget the prices momentarily. Although, feeling the difference in the money bag weight after kind of brought you back to reality.

You insisted they shop some for themselves too, forcing them to buy new sheets and shirts. Not knowing the last time, they shopped for themselves, they agreed, grabbing necessary items before deciding that was good enough. Yoongi eyed up a blanket for a while, in two minds about buying it.

‘I like it, it’s pretty.’ You hinted, hopefully helping him to reach a decision. He just smiled at you, grabbing your chin between his long fingers.

‘If you like it, then we shall have it. No questions asked.’ Really, Yoongi hadn’t bought a new blanket since she betrayed him. Rather fester in the pain than move on, but something about you made him ready to move on.

They ate good that night, Jin making a feast fit for royalty, the rum splashed about between them all.

‘Remember that time, Jungkook got kicked in the nuts by that whore?’ Jimin reminisced, causing Jungkook to physically wince. You looked between them for an explanation, getting nothing bar laughter and dirty looks thrown this way and that way.

‘Please explain, I need to hear these stories!’ you whined, pout on your lips as no one told you anything. Jungkook thought you looked adorable, momentarily having a brain fart.

‘Basically, we took some one-night stands onto the ship when we docked, taking them to different areas of the ship for privacy. Anyways, when Jungkook was finished, he basically went up onto deck, leaving the girl alone. He came back to Namjoon balls deep in her, he wasn’t phased not until-‘

‘Not until, my girl came over sour faced because she was neglected. Jungkook tried to put on the moves then he-‘ He stopped in a fit of laughter, unable to contain himself anymore. Jungkook just groaned, realising he had to finish the story.

‘I wasn’t all that used to the sea yet, I went up onto deck to throw up. I thought I was done but turns out I wasn’t. I was hitting on her and spewed, then she kicked me in the balls... Haven’t been with anyone since.’ You felt sorry for him, wondering how long he had been here without getting his dick wet. You also, couldn’t help the snort of a laugh that slipped from you, setting all the other boys off. Slightly tipsy by this point, you put an offer on the table for him knowing it would make him blush further.

‘You know, if you ever need anything, like that. You know where I am.’ He knew you expected him to blush, to fold in on himself, but he was far too tipsy and far too ready to take you up on that. Leaning into your body, face inches from yours, he whispered against your lips, causing a blush to creep up your face and arousal to pool in your stomach.

‘I might take you up on that sometime, I can’t tell you how painfully hard you make me already.’ If Taehyung hadn’t cleared his throat, you would have jumped the younger boy’s bones. Right there and then. Jungkook dragged his eyes slowly off you, slipping casually back into conversation.

‘So, wait two questions, you are happy sharing women? And Jungkook how long has it been since you got laid?’

‘We don’t mind sharing unless she’s strictly off limits. Yoongi had a girl, she was off limits. Otherwise we don’t mind, as long as she doesn’t.’ Hoseok spoke, answering one of your questions. You nodded, averting your gaze to Jungkook, he just blushed avoiding your eye.

‘Poor Kookie here hasn’t had any in three years, isn’t that right? Poor lad is scared for life!’ Jimin chortled, Jungkook whining in protest.

‘As if you haven’t had your fair share of bad fucks. What about that time...’ And so, the conversation continued, naming and shaming the escapades of these experienced men.

About a week later, the captain proposed the first raid since you joined, all of the men agreeing instantly. Apparently, you were short on food, Jungkook running out of supplies too. You nodded along, Yoongi pulling you into his office again. The boys seemed to already know the plan, Taehyung briefing them as you walked away.

‘You’re a main part of our plan, I need to make sure you are okay with this before we continue.’ He began, letting you sit before he continued. You perched yourself on the edge of the shared bed, crossing your legs waiting for him to continue. He smiled, shaking his head, walking to sit beside you.

‘The pretty dress we bought you? I need you to wear it, go in crying. Make a scene, he’s a sucker for a damsel in distress. He will put his guard down while we grab our things, I don’t want things to get messy, but they might. I’ve assigned Jungkook to you though, he’s a fighter. If anything goes wrong near you, he will be by your side instantly. I promise.’ You fell into his every word, listening intently at every instruction he gave you. Nerves bubbled in your stomach, regardless of having a protector for the raid.

He pulled out the dress, handing it towards you. Smiling, he turned around, giving you minimal privacy again, not like you minded really. Slipping the old clothes off, you folded them on the bed. Old habits die hard. Slipping the dress over your head, you struggled doing the lace on the back up. Now you knew why the princess insisted on being dressed, this shit was hard. Although where she had around six maids to dress her and make her beautiful, you had seven male pirates.

‘Yoongi, could you-‘ Before you could finish the sentence, his fingers were already on your back, gently pulling the fabric for you. You could feel his breath on your skin, his fingertips lightly scraping your back. You hoped he couldn’t see the chills forming on your back, and he hoped you couldn’t feel the clamminess of his hands.

‘There, that should be it, is it okay? It’s been a while since I laced up a dress...’ He mumbled, letting you move about, to test he had done it right. You smiled at his handy work seeing the little bow in the foggy mirror.

‘You did good captain, mighty good.’

‘The boys have docked the ship; we are just waiting on you.’ He had such a soft voice, something you were slowly growing fond of. He wasn’t a pirate in your eyes, the crew never striking you as violent in the slightest. You nod, walking out of the office, to gather with the other boys. Their eyes trailed your form, almost forgetting the shape of your body under the baggy male clothes you usually adorned.

‘Okay, you know the drill. Grab what you can, don’t take anyone back with you, don’t hurt anyone unless absolutely necessary. Jungkook, keep an eye on our damsel here. Get going.’ You chanted in unison with the others a clear ‘YES CAPTAIN!’ before heading to the rowing boat. The boys kept quite most of the time, until Jungkook spied your feet.

‘You don’t have shoes on...’ You smiled at his observation, wiggling your toes for him.

‘Sells the whole distress thing more, no?’ He just sighed, rolling his eyes at you. Namjoon being the one to speak up.

‘Please be careful where you step, we need you, okay?’ You just nodded; a warm smile sent his way. They rowed the boat away from the docks, onto a remote little beach so you weren’t all caught together.

‘I’ll stay with the boat so we can make a quick get away, everyone please be careful.’ Namjoon spoke, everyone splitting direction. You wandered into town, gathering up the courage for your big display. Stepping into the store, you trip on your foot, setting the crocodile tears off.

‘Miss, are you okay?!’ The man yelled, rushing to your side. He grabbed you under your arms, lifting you off the ground. He got you half way before you forced your knees to crumble under you. Letting out another choked sob, you crumpled into the floor, sobbing into your hands. The man just holds you for a moment, letting you sob into his chest. You would feel bad, you could feel bad, but you didn’t let yourself. Instead, pulling the sobs back until they were quiet whimpers.

‘There was someone chasing me, I’m so sorry to have caused you such bother sir.’ You whined, peaking behind the man to see Jungkook, his eagle eyes glaring at the man’s hands on you. The man just rubbed your arm comfortingly, pulling you up from the ground. You watched Hoseok tap Jungkook on the shoulder, the latter giving you the signal to wrap the show up and get to the boat.

‘Why don’t you come inside? I can call the officer over?’ He questioned, genuinely wishing to help. You shook your head, dusting the dress off and wiping your face with the back of your hand.

‘I think he might have gone sir, thank you so much for your comfort, here take this!’ you pulled the gold coin Yoongi gave you for this out of your breasts, handing it to the man. He gulped, hooded eyes looking you over. Planting a chaste kiss against his cheek you ran off, quickly towards the boat.

‘That was some performance angel, impressive.’ Jimin praised, helping you into the boat. You giggled as he patted your ass, climbing in behind you.

‘Why thank you kind sir!’ Your knee hurt a little though, from the dramatic fall through the door. Jungkook noticed you rubbing it, lifting your dress up to look. It was scraped slightly, a bead of blood trickling down your leg. He shook his head at you.

‘But hey, my feet are okay, also this could have been so much worse!’ You chide, much to his disappointment. You were like a child he had to protect, despite you being a year older than him.

‘Not the point babe, I’ll deal with it when we get back on the ship.’ He let you pull your dress back down, covering your legs once again. Realistically he knew you were right. This could have gone bad quickly. You thought about that the whole ride back, how anything could have happened. If something were to happen, would Jungkook be fast enough? Would you be okay if something happened? You decided to voice your concerns later, maybe get one of them to teach you some basic self-defence.

Clambering back on the ship, everyone went straight to Yoongi, handing over the gold and telling them the happenings. Jimin instantly pulled the anchor, sailing away as fast as possible.

‘Where is Jungkook and Y/N? She’s not hurt, is she?’ He worried as soon as he didn’t see you, Taehyung just smiled.

‘She’s not super hurt, she skinned her knee.’ He replied, making the captain roll his eyes. Jungkook would really tend to anything when it came to you, he was slowly starting to realise. He could almost bet gold on the fact you would come back up with a bandage, wrapped tenderly around your knee.

‘How does that feel?’ He questioned, tightening the bandage around your kneecap.

‘Kookie, I’m fine really, don’t you think this is slight overkill?’ you mumbled, leaning closer to his face. He just looked up at you, brushing fallen hair out of your face. Why did he like it so much when you used that nickname? The one he hated so much from everyone else. They made it sound like a childish nickname, with you, it sounded warm, like you were fond of him.

‘I don’t want to see you hurt or uncomfortable. Even if it is a little scrape, even if it’s me making you uncomfortable. I want to make sure I do everything I can, to make sure you are okay.’ You blushed at his words, the weight that they held. Honestly you wondered a lot of things about these boys. They were far too nice to be considered pirates. Just what happened? You leaned in closer to his face, him moving closer himself.

‘I’ll remember that, when my leg is falling off and you can’t do anything about it.’ You whisper, taunting him.

‘I may not be able to do anything right now, but I’ll learn. For you, I’ll learn anything.’ Inches away from attaching your lips to his, you leaned down, lips brushing lips.

‘Guys how’s it going down here?’ Your lips had just puckered, the shortest and softest kiss in history due to your interruption. You both pulled back, him tucking his things away as you pulled down the skirt of your dress.

‘If you’re done, meet us for dinner up top, Jimin says its smooth sailing from here, pardon the pun.’ Jin spoke, giving you a cue to get changed.

‘I have a question for you.’ Taehyung spoke, everyone tipsy from the rum going around. You motioned for him to continue, curious as to what he could ask.

‘Why did you choose to stay? You could have been dropped off, gone back to your normal life. You could be normal. Why not run?’ You pondered it for a moment, not really needing to think. More wondering how much to divulge to them.

‘I had no reason to go home. No love interest, no family, no friends. Why go back to nothing but a job and a room in a Palace?’ They let your answer sink for a moment before you spoke up again. You did have a nice room, with a private bathroom and a big bed. It mirrored the princess’s room, but why wouldn’t it when you were in the room beside hers?

‘What about you? How did you all end up here? Let’s start with Captain, shall we?’

A Time Traveler in Viking Court - Part 7/?

“What was that about?” Hvitserk called after you once you’d left Kyle, Ubbe, and Ivar out of earshot. 

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t seem like nothing.” 

You shot Hvitserk an annoyed look over you shoulder. “It was nothing.” 

After that, you both walked in relative silence as you wove through the trees. 

It was a beautiful end of spring afternoon; the birds were singing, sunlight beams lit up the forest through the thick foliage, and off in the distance the sound of a running river could be heard. You took one attentive look around and immediately dismissed the foul mood you’d been put in. 

Hvitserk noticed the awe in which you stared at your surroundings. He sped up a bit and continued to walk side by side with you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

You only nodded. It’s like a whole new, magical world out here. 

“I love this time of year; the world seems so alive.” A dreamy tone oozed from his every word. 

You turned your head to look at Hvitserk, catching mostly his profile, and smiled. 

He isn’t so bad; I DID think he was gorgeous when I first saw him. So what if he’s a little clingy?

 Without warning, Hvitserk started running ahead of you. “First one there wins!” He shouted back to you through a fit of laughter. 

“First one where?” You yelled back but he didn’t answer. 

Seeing no other alternative, you hiked up your dress, held on tightly to the basket full of food, and ran after him. You were giggling the entire way. 

You clumsily jumped over roots, fallen trees, and even a few animal traps. Yet, no matter how fast you tried to run, you couldn’t catch up to the young viking. 

“I win!” Hvitserk called out with a lovely grin as he took a seat on some rocks by the river. 

You had left the forest a few yards behind and were now tiredly running across a small clearing towards the edge of the river. 

“You cheated.” You spoke through heavy breathes while clutching the side of your cramping abdomen. 

“I don’t cheat.” Hvitserk stood up, took the basket of food from you, and began to dig through it; he ripped off a piece of bread and began to chew it slowly. 

“Whatever.” You playfully rolled your eyes and sat down on the soft, green grass. “I bet I could beat you with a thirty second head start, too.”

Hvitserk sat on the grass facing you, the river to his back, and placed the basket between the both of you. “Dig in.” He spoke through a mouthful of bread.

You took a peak into the basket to find chicken, bread, and nuts. It might not be a feast, but it is a lovely lunch. 

You reached for the largest piece of chicken. 

“That’s my piece.” Hvitserk spoke as he finally swallowed the bread he’d been chewing. 

“Oh, is it?” You lifted the chicken out of the basket and flashed Hvitserk a sly smile. 

“Yes. I won it.” 

“Oh, we were racing for chicken?” The playfulness in your voice cause Hvitserk’s smile to stretch even further. 

“Yes. And I won.” Hvitserk moved the basket off to the side and began to close the space between you two, his hand reached for the chicken but his eyes remained locked on yours. 

“Oh, well in that case...” You pretended to hand over the piece of chicken before swooping it towards your mouth and taking a huge bite. 

Hvitserk let out a laugh. “Oh, now you’re going to get it.” He gently tackled you to the grass. 

The chicken flew out of your hand and onto the grass as you fell backwards laughing. Hvitserk began to tickle you, causing you to kick the air in delight. 

“No! No! Stop!” You yelled through a fit of giggles. You tried pushing his hands off of you, but found that you couldn’t. 

“Alright, alright.” Hvitserk withdrew his hands a few second later, once tears of laughter began to fall from the corner of your eyes. 

You were left panting and with a stomach ache. I haven’t laughed that hard in a while. You used the sleeves of your dress to wipe away the tears. 

Hvitserk rolled off of you to lay beside you, your shoulders were centimeters from touching.  

“So much for a romantic picnic.” Hvitserk rested his head on his arm and stared up at the blue sky. 

You closed your eyes and inhaled the spring air. “Romantic?” You asked while simultaneously exhaling. 

You still had your eyes closed when Hvitserk turned to face you. “Yes. I can do romance. Ask anyone. Ask Margrethe.”

Your eyes shot open. 

Margrethe. Why’d he have to bring her up?

You couldn’t help but feel slight disgust at the thought of him sharing his brother’s wife. 

“What’s wrong?” Hvitserk sat up and turned to you. 

You took in a deep breath before sitting up. You fixed yourself so that you two were facing each other again, like you were before he’d tackled you. 

Where to start?

“Look,” you made your facial expression softer, “I like you. I really do. But It creeps me out -”

“That I share Margrethe?” Hvitserk finished for you. The playfulness he’d shown mere seconds ago was now replaced with a cold look. 

You nodded. “It’s weird.” You lowered you voice. “It’s pseudo-incest.” 

Hvitserk scoffed at you. “I don’t know what that means, but it is clear you are uncomfortable.” 

He stood up and you were left craning your neck to look up at him. “I am. It’s wrong.” 

Hvitserk rolled his eyes and took a few steps towards the river. You stood up and dusted your dress off. 

“Hvitserk,” you spoke to his back, “I won’t pretend to understand why you accept that arrangement, maybe you’re in love, but she is your brother’s wife.”

Hvitserk ran his hands through the tips of his blonde hair before turning to you. “I am not in love.” 

“Then why do it?”

“Because I can.” 

For the first time since meeting him, you saw something dark in his eyes. You weren’t sure what it was, but it sent a shiver up your spine. 

Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.  

There was a long pause between you two, you couldn’t find you voice. Hvitserk scoffed once more, this time at your silence, and walked back towards the woods. You’d managed to put him in a bad mood. 

You watch him as he crossed the clearing and disappeared among the trees. 

What the hell? What the hell?

After a few minutes of just staring at the forest, you walked over to the piece of chicken you’d thrown on the grass, picked it up, and blew a few blades of grass off of it. You considered taking a bite from it. 

“Better not.” You whispered to yourself before throwing it into the river. 

You walked over to a boulder on the edge of the river, sat on it, and let the running water capture your full attention. 

It was well past sundown by the time you got back to Kattegat. It had taken you more than a solid hour to find your way back through the dark forest; somewhere along the way you’d dropped the basket, now empty, and were unable to find it. 

“There you are.” Kyle called out to you as you entered the throne room. “I was getting worried.” He stood up from one of the wooden tables that adorned the room and walked over to you. 

He took you by the elbow and led you towards the backroom of the throne room. 

“Have you seen Hvitserk?” Your voice was small and careful, just in case there was anyone in the backroom that would hear. 

“I have, but he’s still angry at you.” 

You stopped walking, yanked your arm way from Kyle, and turned him to face you. “How do you know he’s mad at me?” 

“He came in yelling about it a few hours ago.” Kyle took hold of your arm once more and began to pull you into what looked like a supply room. 

You and Kyle had been using the throne room’s backroom, where they kept decorations, food, and miscellaneous objects, as a place to sleep since the day you’d both arrived. You didn’t mind sleeping on the floor with nothing but a pillow and a thick blanket so long as it meant being with your best friend. 

“I really should apologize.” 

“Yes, you should. Tomorrow.” Kyle closed the door once you were both inside, unfolded his blanket, and placed it gently on the floor. “Right now we need to sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day.” 

You began to unfold your own blanket. “What’s going on tomorrow?” 

Kyle laid down on his thick blanket and rested his head on his pillow. “Ivar agreed to teach us how to fight.”

You stopped what you were doing and glanced at him before finishing setting up your make shift bed. “Why would he agree to that. I’m pretty sure that after today he hates me.” 

Kyle turned on his side to face you. “He doesn’t hate you, and we need to start gaining his trust.” 

You finished perfecting the placement of your blanket and through yourself onto it. “Right. We need to help him.” You looked up at the wooden ceiling. 

“And the best way to do that is to have him trust us. If we’re lucky, well be home by this time next week.” Kyle shifted on his blanket until his back was facing you. “Now, go to sleep. Viking training looks difficult.” 

You took in a deep breath before closing you eyes and falling into a dreamless sleep. 

@salty-holographic-stickers @doklausoneverysurfacepossible @iamwarrenspeace @fandoms-and-flannels @thehunterofthelord @thefangirlsoul

[John K. Ross] Short Circuit: A Roundup of Recent Federal Court Decisions

Zestimates, Big Girl Panties, and Scabby the Rat

Please enjoy the latest edition of Short Circuit, a weekly feature from the Institute for Justice.

Suppose a La Plata, Md. public school teacher compelled a Christian student to write part of the Shahada: "There is no god but Allah and Muhammad is the messenger of Allah." First Amendment violation, right? Fourth Circuit: It was homework for a world history class. About what Muslims believe. Judgment for the school.

Allegation: Rumor spreads at Sterling, Va. warehouse that an employee was promoted only because of her sexual relationship with a higher-ranking manager. The highest-ranking manager at the facility helped to spread the rumor, barred her (but not her paramour) from attending a mandatory all-staff meeting where the rumor was discussed, and told her he'd no longer recommend her for promotions. She's later fired. Fourth Circuit: Because "traditional negative stereotypes regarding the relationship between the advancement of women in the workplace and their sexual behavior stubbornly persist in our society," she might very well have suffered harassment because she is a woman. The case shouldn't have been dismissed.

Using Sherlock Holmesian powers of deduction (unbalanced tire, worn lug nuts, nervous driver), police officer suspects drug trafficking is afoot. He touches the suspicious tire, which feels (and is) suspiciously full of meth. Fifth Circuit: And under the revived property rights theory of the Fourth Amendment, touching the tire was a search (but the driver is still going to jail).

Female nursing assistant at Pascagoula, Miss. assisted living facility is daily subjected to lewd and sexually violent behavior by a dementia patient. When she voices concerns to facility higher-ups, they invite her to "put [her] big girl panties on and go back to work." After she's fired, she brings Title VII suit against the facility. And her hostile work environment claim can go to trial, says Fifth Circuit.

Vacant-property owners in Saginaw, Mich. must register their properties with the city; the registration form states that an owner must allow the city to enter her property if it becomes dangerous. Does this system unconstitutionally require an owner to waive her Fourth Amendment rights? Sixth Circuit: Nope. The Fourth Amendment allows warrantless searches of dangerous buildings provided there's a pre-search hearing to determine whether the building is dangerous.

Upon returning to his Detroit, Mich. basement apartment, man finds it ransacked. Storming upstairs, shouting expletives, he encounters a stranger who shoots him three times. Yikes! Turns out it was a federally deputized member of the Detroit Fugitive Apprehension Team task force, on the hunt for a fugitive. Man sues task force members for excessive force and other alleged misdeeds. Officers: Actually, we shot him only after he pulled his own gun on us. Which, says Sixth Circuit, is precisely the kind of factual dispute that must be resolved at trial. No qualified immunity.

In 2013, a chaplain with the Michigan Department of Corrections tells Muslim inmate that he can't attend Eid al-Fitr, a religious feast marking the end of Ramadan. Chaplain tells inmate he's the wrong kind of Muslim and can attend the feast only if he changes his religion. Access to the feast is allegedly denied again in 2014. Inmate sues, asserting First and 14th Amendment violations. Qualified immunity? No, says Sixth Circuit—not least because a court in a different case "had already issued a binding order enjoining these defendants from preventing Muslim inmates to participate in Eid." And "reasonable officials follow court orders."

Pro-life sidewalk counselors are prohibited from approaching within eight feet of any person in the vicinity of Chicago abortion clinics if their purpose is to counsel, provide literature, or protest. Seventh Circuit: Well, the law is nearly identical to a Colorado law upheld by the Supreme Court in 2000, and even though that case is hard to reconcile with more recent Supreme Court cases, it has not been overturned. The law stands.

"Scabby the Rat has returned." Scabby—a giant balloon rodent evoking a Nutcracker nightmare—often pops up at union protests, including one in Grand Chute, Wis. in 2014. That is, until the town ordered deflation under the local sign code. Seventh Circuit: Which was OK. The sign code was content neutral and enforced fairly. (Real hypo from trial: Would Scabby count as a holiday decoration if he had a Santa hat?)

Drug defendant is shackled during pretrial hearings because that's what Central District of Illinois court security thinks is safest—as a blanket rule, for every detained defendant. Which means chained wrists, chained ankles, and a chain between them. The defendant, on interlocutory appeal: The judge can't do this without deciding that I, specifically, am dangerous. Seventh Circuit: Meh. Come back after you're convicted. Dissent: This indignity diminishes the courts. And how is he going to get effective review later?

Website Zillow uses an algorithm to generate "Zestimates" of home values based on the home's location, the selling price of nearby parcels, and other factors. Given the 100 million properties for which Zillow creates Zestimates, the company does not inspect whether houses have special features that might make them more (or less) valuable than the estimate. Plaintiffs, dissatisfied with the Zestimates on their homes, sue Zillow, claiming that the Zestimates have made it more difficult for them to sell the homes at their real value. Seventh Circuit: Zout of luck. Zestimates "are opinions, which canonically are not actionable" under the deceptive trade practices law the plaintiffs invoked.

Rarely do an opinion's opening sentences double as a Short Circuit entry. The Seventh Circuit shows everyone how it's done: "Is it reasonable for officers to assume that a woman who answers the door in a bathrobe has authority to consent to a search of a male suspect's residence? We hold that the answer is no."

DHS Secretary suspends various laws to permit replacement of segments of border fencing (or, y'know, whatever you prefer to call such physical barriers). Ninth Circuit: Which was entirely within the Secretary's statutory authority.

Golden Beach, Fla. police officers submit sketchy timesheets: They might be getting paid twice for the same hours. They're arrested for fraud, but eventually the charges are dropped. They sue. Was the application for the warrant to arrest them deliberately missing exculpatory info? Eleventh Circuit: Doesn't matter. The info wasn't that exculpatory.

Two African-American couples were murdered in Walton County, Ga. in 1946, as a large crowd of people looked on in what is considered to be the last mass lynching in American history. A grand jury was convened, but no one was ever charged even after 16 days of witness testimony. Seven decades later, can the transcripts be released to a historian? Eleventh Circuit: Yes; though grand jury records are usually kept under seal forever, these can be released as a matter of exceptional historical significance. Dissent: The rules clearly prohibit the disclosure of these materials. Imagine the harm that might come to descendants of the suspects, witnesses, and grand jury members when all is revealed.

And in en banc news, the Ninth Circuit will reconsider a ruling that the Second Amendment prevents Hawaii County, Hawaii from banning the open carry of handguns.

Last month, the Food and Drug Administration closed a public comment period over whether it should continue to allow plant-based products to use words like "milk" and "cheese" in their labeling. But such a crackdown would "confuse consumers, harm small businesses across the country, and raise serious First Amendment concerns," IJ argued in a submitted comment.

A rough fucking

And so, sports day for this year is all said and done. Time to eat, or at least that was the plan. Scored me a massive plate of ribs with that new sauce. Gonna enjoy.......Wham! Now the great feast is all over me, like I just murdered someone. It's messed up that I can't enjoy some food, now I can't even get in my own car. Oh, but wait......I got my winter jacket and pants. It's not cold, in fact it's quite in the hundreds, but to get out of this current mess is better than messing up my seat. I'll just change in the latrine at the laundromat since it's just a little walk from the field. There. Much better. Rinse these pt's off in the sink and.....yo, who is she Must be new. Ok stop gawking at her. Somebody's fucking her it's just not me. Plus I don't think she wants to talk to a GI who don't have anything underneath his winter pt's but something that she might need a higher quality of. So I just make small nice conversation. "Hi." "Hi" she says "aren't you hot with all that on" "Yeah, but a bunch of food spilled on me and this is all I had left in the car to change in." What I really wanted to say was "you're hot with or without any clothes on." But that's just something that will get me in trouble on post. Speaking of trouble, oh shit! The MP's are at my car. Am I'm getting a ticket This is what I get for taking too long. So I dart out of the laundromat, but my pants are falling off my waist. Looks like I really did lose a lot of weight, and I think I might have shown her my ass, by accident, or course. But no matter, gotta talk this dude out of the ticket. "Hello. I was just about to move but I had food spilled all over my..." "Save the excuse. You parked your car next to the fire hose all day! I've been driving back and forth, and you still haven't moved it. Here you go, and if I were you, I would hop in your car right now, being way out of uniform and all." "Roger that Sergeant." What a fucking douche. Just want to punch this guy so bad, but whatever. I can take care of this next payday. Time to leave. Turn on the car, it's almost time for the flag. Fuck! At least get out of here before he comes back and I knock him out. I'll drive to the laundromat, salute and be on my way. Oh look, she's still there. And there goes the flag. Time to get out and show my respects. Dun, dun da duuuun, dun dun da Dunn..... BOOM! And not paying attention, my pants come down again! How embarrassing and she saw it all. And here I am saluting while my left hand is clutching my pants. I just hope no one else saw that. Ok flag completed. Time to get outta... "You! Get over here!" Oh great. Some big wig not in uniform is about to chew me out for being out of uniform. "Just who do you think you are just being all jacked up" He shouts. "Well, sir, food spilled on my pt's and this was all that I had to change in..." "That's not what I want to hear. I want to hear you tell me your unit, you first sergeant and your Commander. And you're at a housing area like you can just get away with that. You need to leave here, ASAP." Wow, just wow! This is really getting quite lame. As I drove off I find out it just so happens that she is his wife. Well, it is what it is. Now can I get off post without pissing someone else off Start the car and I'm rolling again. Passing by the shoppette and, fuck my life! Out of gas! This is what I get for rolling the dice one time to many. At least I can roll in just short of the pump. Lord knows I dont want to get out for anything else. Well I got gas money... or do I I forgot that I left my wallet at the house and just brought my ID's with me. So now I'm just stuck out and need a ride to my house or someone to loan me cash and follow me to the house. What a day. I'm just gonna lay my head on the steering wheel, hoping things will go my way. "Excuse me, is there something wrong with your car" That voice sounds familiar. Looking up I saw the familiar boobs. It's her. "Why yes ma'am. I'm out of gas and I left my money at home. I'm sorry for being such a pain, I'm really not. I just want to go home and forget all of this." "Well, I can put some gas in and I can follow you home and you can pay me back." she says. "Ok, cool. Much appreciated." This can't be real. The wife of Captain Douchebag is helping me This must be a joke, and I bet anything he's gonna come from nowhere and turn me in to the MP's. I lower myself so no one else sees me. Next thing I know, she's done pumping gas for me, and she tops off my car! I was just gonna put in like ten. Then again, I get to see her walk in. Nice ass indeed. Got my dick chubbing up, but I need to stop. She don't even have to do all this. I'm lucky right now. And her she comes. "Ok, I'll follow you." she calls out to me. Now I know this could lead to something. Luckily, I just moved apartments so no one knows me over there. Then again, why am I even thinking like this She wants her money, and she's being nice....too nice, but let's see how it all pans out..... Finally home. Still scared, I look around to see who else will bust me for being out of uniform. Fuck it I'm off post. I see this all the time, and my apartment is just a few steps away. I hear her car door close. We enter through the door. "Ok, here is what I owe." I tell her as I hand her the money. "Oh, that won't be what I want." with a deep hungry look in her eyes. "O. K. So how am I going to pay you back" While pulling down my winter pt pants, "with this........" she says. Next thing I know, she deep throats all of me, with no gag reflex. Looks like its game over for me, and I didn't even get to do anything to her. However, she's literally sucking out the last drop of my load. I was super soft, but then she took off all her clothes and I started heating back up again. Wanting to redeem myself, I was gonna go the rough route. I grabbed her by the throat. "Look, your husband pissed me off, and now that youre here, I'm gonna really fuck him over." "Good. That makes two of us." she whispers. At that point it was on. I put her in a reverse headlock with my left arm, while I played with her clit with my right hand. She was resisting, but I had a feeling she was gonna be down for this. Now her ooze is all over my fingers, so I put my hand all in it, while I banged her head against the wall. I took my hands out of her pussy and smacked the shit out of her stomach, all while still having her in the headlock. I could feel her body going limp, but she was moaning like shes never had big dick before. And so, it's time... I walked her to the couch and slammed her face down on one of the cushions. She moved slowly, then assumed the position. The first stroke was fantastically wet and she went into OMG mode from there. After that first nut from earlier, I was ready to fuck the shit out of her. I grab her right titty, lifted up her left leg and went into beast mode, eventually taking my hand off her titty and smacking her ass taking out all my frustrations from the last hour. Then I wrapped her hair around my hand and gave her some back handed goodness for good measure, each stroke her twat got even wetter than before. Then I pulled out, placed my left palm to her neck, and started smearing her nut off of my dick and on to her face so she would wipe her face off with her hand and lick her fingers. "How does your pussy tastes now" I asked "Like desert for the Fucking Gods." she answered. And without warning, I jammed my dick right up her ass. At this point I let her have control of her body, and she rode that dick like a champ. Next thing I knew, I wrapped my arms around her and I tried to squeeze the life out of her as I busted a huge nut in her ass, and as I did that, I saw her straight squirt her pussy out, followed by the sexiest moan any bitch could do, but couldn't fake. Then I threw her back on the couch faced down. I gaped the shit out of her asshole, and the cream pie was perfect. She turned to look at me, smiled, and passed out. I put a blanket over her and then I surfed the Internet. Two hours later she woke up, not even worried about her husband or the bruises that I left on her body. She knew what she wanted, and thanks to her my day went from tragic to epic. I didn't even do anything else that weekend, cause she came over a few more times. I pretty much put that pussy through the Olympics. Sunday night, as she left, I had to ask. "Why did you you help me out at the shoppette" "Because I hate it when good guys get caught up on some simple shit that these clowns trip about too much. Plus I saw what you were working with, and for you to treat me like a slut made it even better. Never in my life have I've been fucked like this. I could literally die a happy woman." She said. "Don't know if I'll ever see you around after this, but if I do, just know this pussy and asshole would just squeal if they got to take in more of your dick." Fair enough. That made me feel like a fucking boss, and right as she closed the door, I get a phone call from my Platoon Sergeant. Gotta show up to the battery at four in the morning. Looks like The Chew out session as expected. So I get there a quarter till three, and my Platoon Sergeant, my Platoon Leader, my First Sergeant, my Commander, and Captain Douchebag were already there. Next thing I knew, I was getting my ass chewed between my Commander and top. In between keeping eye contact with everyone and the whimpering, "check, roger that, Sir First Sergeant" I see douchey giving me the look of his personal satisfaction that he did this to me, like he was the man. Thirty minutes later, he was satisfied, and shook the hand of both my Commander and First Sergeant, and he left. The office went silent for two minutes. It started to get really weird. Finally, my Commander broke the silence. "Ok. First off, we are not mad at you. We all knew your situation and there are people that vouched for you. It's just that this guy wanted to really see us lay it in on you for some reason. Like you fucked his wife or something." "Sir, you do know who is wife is, right" asked First Sergeant. "The manager from the shoppette over there. She always talked about suckering that dude and then divorce him for all that he has because he treats soldiers bad. That captain is that sucker." "Interesting." replied my Commander. "but whatever. Word on the streets is that he's getting kicked out for being passed over for the rank of Major too many times. But enough of that," as he turned towards me. "How was your weekend" "It was ok. Didn't do much of anything, other than being out of uniform." Payback complete.